Blogarama
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Location: the waves, the ocean

Hoist the sails, raise yer bloody goblets, ahoy & onward me laddies!

Thursday, May 05, 2005

Anon, for I Sail!

Laddies, tip o' the cap to ye all, & a fine mornin' 'tis. Methinks the air seems cleaner & fresher in me lungs after a healthy day of pillaging & combat. Me ship be full of it, lads, with new treasures aplenty & me crew engaged presently in cleaning up the sanguine remnants of yesterday's tantrum, aye. Yer dear cap'n, as they say ashore, awakened on the wrong side of bed, such that any prompt led imminently to slaughter. But this morn, as I say, me lungs pull in the azure of the air & me eyes peer o'er the vast possibilities of the seas. After some consultation as a matter of form with Crow's Pussy & Longsince, methinks we'll southwards turn, aye, & make course for the Cape of Good Hope, where me li'l parrot tells me we'll make good on the new bounty. Sailing for Southern climes puts a jig in me bones, lads, & turns me to whiskey where Northern waters promote the healthy & leisurely imbibement of rums & ports. Aye, whiskey to fuel me journey, lads, into those remote & savage waters of the equator. Laymen, & here I mean pussilanimous young stains on the record of human existence, laymen ask me why me ship so constantly sails the seas, & why me anchor drops for not more than a day. When they ask, I generally & by way of the Pirate's Principle afford them a slap to the face with me good hand & a hook strategically maneuvered to turn questions into operatic exclamations, aye. Methinks it best when stupidity gears righteousness to suspend the courage of the idiocy. Aye, lads, me means to say if ye've the balls to ask me such questions, I'll take 'em from ye that ye should shut yer traphole. Alas, though, me ship does turn equator-bound, towards midnight blue waters & green coral mirages seeming to float below the surface. Methinks I'll be away from me post some three days ere ye hear of me again. Until then, lads, listen careful for the cannon's report, aye, & keep wide yer eyes, for there be plenty of amateurs afloat on these very waves. Enough. Anon, I sail, laddies, for the Cape!

3 Comments:

Anonymous baby medusa said...

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

3:02 PM  
Anonymous the bo'son said...

Yar, to be in the south seas and warm me bones . . . 'tis cold as a bucaneeress' bosom 'pon me ship, and I've pulled midnight duty for the forenight. I say, to the botswayne of the Mary Talbot a jaket, if you will, maties.

7:09 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Fleas and rats, the lot of you, pirates. Your ship smells like a thrift store on tuesday. Never plundered any soap, did you? Bath salts, loofahs?

1:39 PM  

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