Change o' the Wind

Avast me land loving varments. It be yer favorite capt'n with some powerful distressen' news. It seems that my gatheren' at the Blue Admiral must be moved on acount of me parole hearing. The Good Amiral has been doing his best to reform me, and doing terrable job I am pleased to say. However, it turns out on one of my "nights off fer good behavior" somebody, accidently sliced open the mayor and threw his still screaming, still bleeding body down the well. gyarr, teach him to pay what he owes the great, be'wigged walrous. It was quite a shoke me boy'os when little Marry Beth, maid o' the baker and his wife, pulled on the rope to find she couldn't lift it. The whole town gathered and tryed getting that bucket up, and after the women all screamed, let it go back down real quick like. Of course, they blame yours trully, because of something they call sercumstasuary evidence or some blasted thing. So I have a hearing on Saterday. SO WE WILL HAVE TO DRINK ON FRIDAY! That's right lads and lasses, be at the Blue Admiral on Friday and get ready to get yer drink on, yer wench on, and yer song on. Tha's right, song on, chouruses of, "Drunken Sailor", "Saucy Bold Rober", and anything else we can thinking of. All amixed with chears of "yarr!" Such great bold fun ye have never had. That why I want one and all to come and join. Because a party with out song is like a captain with out a crew. So, gather yer parots, yer patches, yer garb, but not yer swords. And come on down.

Count Down

Gyarr, lads and lasses of the high seas it be almost time fer a new instolment of everybodys favorite tale, Pirats of the Caribbean . I be awaiting to be blasted over board with the stories of my cousin and his crew. Its high time that the high seas get some mention and merrit. Most now folks be in fear of tearrorists and firewalls and I's find this highly laughable, har har har. Though don't be getten' me wrong land lovers, walls of fire be still somethen' that afear the ol' captain. I mean look at those poor Egypians runnin after those Hebrew folk. I may be a foolish fellow, but one does not mock the works of the all mighty, fer fear of the price ye pay maybe more than just deblunes! But the rules, as they say, those I might not adhear to on acounting it would make the pilaging less fun! Yes captain again. But that be a long story with plenty a gorry details tha rattle yer bones and send yer stomachs in quakes. But, there's a time and a place. Needless to say, I don't be hanging at the Blue Admiral as offten as I like. A trip to the brige and an officer clamming he could, "Reform me into a model citizan." Tiss to laugh, but did grant me my feedom from that acusesed prison. I will be on leave, yes, and back to the Blue Admiral after my favorite cup o' stout and a tale or two from members of me old crew. Friday, the 21st I shall return. And all of ye lasses are personally envited by yer noble Cap'n to take in the festivities and yer share of admeral fellow. Thow wenches be warned yer madenship may come in to question after this affair be through. A good loud and long row of song and mariment that I hope to start. No man, woman, nor child shall be turned out of this dubious celebration. Yarr. But, I have Cabin duties as apart of my, "Reform Criterian". So I bid avast and may the wind always be at yer backs and sails never slack.

A New Dawn

Avast!! and who be ye, scurr, scumm, come ta drag me off'a yer pub floor? I've just seen the bottom of Davey John's Locker and ye tell me ta "scram." I wont have it! Stand and unfold sir, oh, the floor be a might more unstable then I thought. What? Of course I'd been a drinken' I've been drinken' fer the las two days! Lossen a hand er two is one thing, but to loes 'em all at once. *slam's table with glass* That sir, that is an unjustice. Those bastered hated Brits think they control the seas. No, no offence meant, I wasn't a talken' bout the good citizens who give a plank fer the rules as the rules give a plank fer them.

No, I was a talkin' bout the govn'mnt officals who where big hat, with big feathers all to compensate fer the extra space in thar britches, gyarr. But wh..But what ye may ask yerself, is a scurvy, sorry buckanear doing alone with out a pitance to his name..ugg..I mean the with out extra pitance af'er this fine grog... got enough fer that o' course. No... now ye got me shirt coller a fralled, no, I got it, or ye better get it. There that's the ticket, no ye may wonder, what I be do'en here with so little coin to me name. Well, it be a long story, full of twists and turns. Ye want to hear it ya say, well sir. How's about ye buy me a drink o' the best and I will get on ta tellen'

Cold!

I've come to the conclutions that It be cold outside, and this ain't no leap o' the rock. When ye see yer breath rise and it ain't smoke chanceses are its colder then a whiches teet out there. Now what I can not stand is those whiners that come up to me and says," It be cold outside!" Well, no shite! And then they complain at me like the three minuets that they've been walking at 9 is somehow worse then 2 hours I spent walking this morning at 7. But I digress! Do to ice me ships been stuck in port and me men are getting restless. I think the dream jurnal is do'n then good, but I don't know quite yet. They keep on mutteren' about the spay of the sea and the smell of gulls and other such...and wouldn't you know it, I miss it more then the lot of them. We are stuck in town now, and forced to take up jobs (only temerary) until we get back to sea. Some are haven' more sucksess then others. But more on that later. Thar' be an important mandate cummen' up from teh gov'nment and she's got me a bit shaken. Something about proposing and working on projects. I think I might have somethen to do with you know what. And I told 'em a houndred times if I a told them once. I ain't the marring kind. Mind I got a list long as me arm o' lasses tha'd like to be me misses. But then you got to cut down on the drinking, and the smoking, and the dancing with monekys, and the whoring ye got to cut down on the whoring or they get tight in a bind. And then she 'specs ye to get a "decent job" and take out the trash. Barnickles I says, I don't need that not now no-ways. So admerial Mogan can hold whatever he wants over me head, I ain't a getten married to appease him!

Me Blog Sucks!

Well, it be that time of the mounth. Sleepen' on me couch? No, it be that frivalous holiday, My Blog Sucks Day. Were all whining land lovers get together and go on complainen about the enequities of their reports. I feel that I must contribute to this phonomanon, *doo-doo-de-du-du* but specifyen' how I want to make me reopten more efficent {includen' some plans and goals). Fers' I plan to do updaten' a bit more offeten. I hope ter provide ya lot with more links to other piratey things. Sharon has offered to allow me to use a picture of her dog, which might be a bit over board, and I want to through in some more music links. Not only performed, but to shanty lyrics. They can keep you in yer right mind, when yer away from port for nigh on a fortnight. I also hope to through recipies fer grog and other sailen' necesites. As well as look fer comments and intrigrate it into future posts.

So thems the plans, if ye have a problem with it ye can wash them over yer poop deck. Gyarr. Though potty humer is somethin' I am never striven fer. Also reporten' sober from time ta time would be good. But I don't think necicary.

It's 3:00 AM, Do ye know where yer parrot is?

Fer All The Deblunes

Well, I don't believe it, I've been keep'n me good eye on the viewen of me reports. Gyarr, it through me fer a loop, right over the side ya' see. Fer the total number of view, despite the bad spellen, is over 200! (including reloads) Though I may be tuggen me own bierd but fer 10 days in I think thas' pretty good. Time to celibrate...to the Admiral!

Somethen Fer The Whoole Family

Well, its about that time agian. Many propriaters of pilpher-free profesions be maken plans, hopen to visit thier family and friends and enjoy this nice weather. Well, I am sorry to say me crew ain't goin' to to like me vury much. A weekend of hard work be planed, and ye can bet there'd be scrubben invalved. Though the more we plan the less we can drink. *scanning room* Wait, why ain't I 'a drinken now? Where tha' port go? All right, that's better. Now, the more we work the less we can drink, the less we can drink...the less we can drink! I think I am spotten a pattern. An epihpany! Why don't we drink instead of work. I mean we can always try to get booty later, harharhar. Alright, prepair fer an all ashore. I'll see ye all at the Admiral. Gyarr..