Location: the waves, the ocean

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

Monday, June 27, 2005


Aye laddies a long while it's been since me sat in earnest to relay the various & sundry details of me time asea. The tonic of horizon-line waters can be damning to a pirate, aye, & make 'im idle as a viking at that. Pushed into troublesome & sordid bouts with kidney stones, aye, & a man's wits turn not to the page, lads, but to the finer art of withholding bloody murder at the sight of 'is own yella piss. & aye, we've turned now from southern climes & rallied towards the quaint bays of New England, lads, where in the Golden Era (1701-1720) there fluorished any number of ports wherein a pirate could find repast & repose with politicos, aye, from Manhattan to Providence & beyond, verily. These days the welcome is harder fought, lads, & me ensigns be those of a merchant vessel for the time being. Our stocks be low, though, lads, & traded we have the majority of our finer items, in favor of whiling the time with rum & song. Aye, we came upon a school of wholphins in our travels, lads, that nestled fine alongside a man, indeed, comparably to a porpoise I might add. Tide & wave as far as a good eye can visage, lads, & no gentle company at that. Methinks betimes the life of a pirate be savagely inhuman, lads, ere the evenin' rolls round & me be enchanted all anew of it. Aye, the dirth & dirge of steady drink lads, when it be mornin' & the bright & brilliant sun be blindin' ye through yer cabin glasspiece as ye rise, aye, rise & walk from yer patched parrot to greet yer crew. Dear lord, the African rum stays with ye & finds its only combatant in either fine port or Spanish brandy, aye, lads, mark ye these words of mine. Me time away 'as served me to a poncie, lads, & ere I find meself begarbed in feathers & gowns methinks it wise to sully me blade with the ole crimson aye. Me good eye can't focus on such as an argent & unspotted blade, lads -- it be a tale of woe & depravation to hold a tool divided of its purpose. To New England then, lads, & to the ivy walls wherein a bounty of plenty awaits.


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4:37 PM  

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