Blogarama

h. dagger's adventures at sea

Name:
Location: the waves, the ocean

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

Monday, November 21, 2005

Me Journals

Aye, so what of it, me inchoate eye trained on that West of yore? Aye, I've seen penguins too Cap'n Gov'nerbottom, but where be their renderings? Where their stolid beaks? Nay, yer naught but a one timer, a sleuth & sloth coupled. Ye maggot, go off with ye & dance a jig with Hjort.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Lock Safe & Vouch

There be in me cabin a number of sundries, lads, aye, that would make for an exposition of hefty merit. I'll not to me list making, but me good eye spies little that seems worth me while to write of present. The seas be calm, aye, & the waves spread out endless o'er the vast blue sphere, lads. Our course be set & our sails sturdy & naught but wind & water 'tween here & there. Piracy can test a man's patience, 'twixt fighting & famine, spoil & solitude. When we loot, aye, there be a fire in me veins, but here, adrift 'pon the roiling sea, there be little but the music of man's nerves & sinews. Drat, laddies, & blasted be the silent cannon.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Odin & the Sabre

Hear this, Hjort, ye galloping troglodyte, ye malodorous taint, yer Odin be naught but a dream of making a Viking's life worth living. Aye, for all yer toil & trouble in the Viking life, ye've naught to show for it but a half-eaten mutton leg, an empty bottle of skolled-away lambic & a bounty of insidious rashes. Aye, tis true, ye sloth, ye ferrit, ye lumbering manchild, yer salvation lies in Odin's promise, aye, which entails that ye'll eat mutton again, aye, & find yerself in the company of yer mates, aye, until the sun sets on eternity. Blasted Odin! I'll not speak for me maties, but be ye sure, ye dilapidated, lichen-covered, termite infested frame of a man, that 'tween me life of constant revelry & victory at present & the promise of a Valhalla full of half-dead larva with horned helmets salivating & throwing tripe scraps about their flowing beards for all of eternity, I'd pick me life of the present. Aye, ye can run & hide behind Odin all ye want, ye scowling turd, for at least then yer person is hidden from me good eye & the rising tide of vomit & bile that me tastes in me mouoth every time ye surface can abate for a moment's respite, ye scabrous festering rhinocerous.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Aye, all Brunic

Aye. I've a melotron, it plays, it plays & the scrolls of the sea unfurl. Aye, aye, I've a golden ear what hears the choir of the world. Lads, lads, be ye strong, ere the leaden siren nears. Toil, toil, aye light me way, for toil tattles all yr fears.
What the fuck then lads. Where be the bounty of yore?