| (no subject) |
[Nov. 6th, 2005|02:58 pm] |
Arrrr, ye wouldn't expect such a scurvy scum ridden folly from Captain Black Davy Bonney's crew! Me crew would o' gotten thur jewels an' thur ladies! If that be Black Davy Bonney's crew, well, ye best be knowin' that more than a few o' those weevil shaggers would best be dancin' the Hempen Jig fer such shite!
Me crew and I be in the Cook Islands, fer those o' ye who be wantin' to know. The Queen o' Atlanta be headed to-wards the coastal regions o' Australia soon but to-night I be off to crack jenny's tea cup, if'n ye know what I be sayin'... |
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| Brave be ye, Dread. |
[Nov. 3rd, 2005|09:42 pm] |
Ahoy, me hearties!
Aye, perhaps ye hast been wonderin where yer pirate friend hast been. Perhaps ye hast not. If this be the case, find yeself a plank an' be walkin' it, scum ridden weevil shagger.
Last I chronicled me adventures, me great big boat was docked in the port of the Island of New Yorke in the Americas and me jack o' cups, the Dread Pirate Kidd, was out plunderin' in the village o' Greenwich. Well, ye would never guess where I found the boy -- in a pub, dancin' with dandy boys! Shiver me timbers! Never would o' guessed such a thing be truthful, but 'tis. And here I always be thinkin' he just had a fancy for older lasses, considerin' his likes for Bea Arthur, Cher, and that Liza Minnelli.
After Kidd's confessin', he decided to be stayin' on in the village o' Greenwich. One o' me maties (and me new jack o'cups takin' Kidd's place), Bloody Bart Wiggins, tells me that Dread Pirate Kidd had been tryin' to woo him but I shan't be believin' such nonsese. A man might be gettin' some crazy thoughts out on the ocean but between me and ye, if a man had to choose between a son of a biscuit eater like Wiggins and a fine captain like meself, well, we all know Kidd would o' been pickin' the likes o' me to woo -- not, ye understand, that I be wantin' him to have tried such a thing, ye see, because I have what ye would call an eye for the ladies, but ye know the truth as 'tis.
Any-way, the Dread Pirate Kidd last I heard, said that he would be askin' for his Acts o' Pardon in order to be makin' a life in the village o' Greenwich. He and Fernando (who Dread be callin' his "life partner") be plannin' to get themselfs couple o' those orphan childrens from the Far East. The Dread Pirate Kidd can drink his grog and commandeer with the best o' pirates and if'n any o' ye bilge rats got somethin' dif'ernt to say about me former jack o'cups, well, I don't recall askin' ye for yer thoughts, ye scum ridden weevil shaggers!
Arrrgh, there be a storm a brewin' and I best be gettin' me crew o' bilge rats to work. Weigh anchor! Hoist the mizzen! |
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| 'Tis been a-while, maties! |
[Jul. 22nd, 2005|08:58 am] |
Avast!
Me crew and me ran into a bit o'...problems...while we traveled to-wards the coast o' Africa. Me crew and me were surely in Davy's grip that time! Lucky for the hogshead t'was there to be calmin' the scurvy sons o' biscuit eaters!
Things not be so scurvy now that me crew and me be on the island of New Yorke in the Americas. Some o' me mates had the Davies about a place such as this one. "'Tis in the Americas!" they cried. "T'will want to be takin' a-way all our rum and ladies!" Surely they t'was just recallin' warnin' tales o' travelers to the mid-western lands in the Americas. I hast been there once meself, to the island o' New Yorke, I told them, and the island o' New Yorke t'isn't like that a'tall.
A bit worried I am about the Dread Pirate Kidd, though. Ye see, after dockin' the great grand ship at the docks o' Chelsea, me jack o' cups found hisself wanderin' over to the village o' Greenwich with a dandy boy. That be al-most four day a-go that he left. I hope he found hisself a lady of expansive sensibilities while in the village o' Greenwich.
Me and me jenny (a native strumpet o' course) is stayin' in a place called the Trybeka. Least that be what the natives of the Americas call this neighborhood o' the city o' New Yorke; some o' the time I be wonderin' if they not be makin' some o' this shite up. Trybeka an' Sewhoe? A civilised society shan't be givin' their territories names like that!
We shall be leavin' this grand island in a fort-night, methinks...
If any o' ye landlubbers want to be askin' me any queries about life on the great grand seas, sure I be to answer it 'fore I leave New Yorke as long --
Avast!
Me jenny hast brought rum and cackle fruit! |
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| Belay that talk! |
[Apr. 13th, 2005|05:50 pm] |
Avast!
'Tis a tirin' sort o' day to-day. In th' port o' Portugal, we gathered a bit o' booty, most of it in ladies of expansive sensibilities an' a bit in doubloons. Word be that me crew will comandeer a noth'r great grand ship late to-night.
We be sailin' to wards th' coast o' Africa to-morrow mornin' but as for to-night, me buckos, I shall find a bit o' fun with a jenny whilst me crew takes care o' that great grand ship I've told ye about.
Blimey, me jack o'cups sent me a samplin' o' ye scurviest writtins'. Make a man lose his supper, some o' these stories do. Aye? I be leavin' views a bit too smartly some times. To-morrow aft me great grand ship start sailin' th' sea, I may be leavin' some words o' wisdom to these strumpets 'nd scurvy sons o' biscuit eaters. |
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| Bilge Rats! No quarter for ye! |
[Apr. 8th, 2005|02:59 pm] |
Avast!
Apologies for not writin' to ye sooner, t'was a mite busy -- what am I sayin' here? I be not apologisin' to ye scurvy bilge rats! What be th' problem with ye, maties? Ye all be sons of biscuit eaters. Take a good drink o' ye grog an' get over ye problems. Arrr.
Me crew and I docked me great grand ship in Leixoes, Portugal th' night before last. T'will be here a fort-night or two, then go on th' account again. Depends on what we can find, ye see. Went to a tavern for some o' me grog and got spliced off th' mainbrace. Found a lady of expansive sensibility, if ye knows what I means. Buxom beaut, she t'was.
Arrrg. I be a bit on th' bored side to-day. Me jack o' cups haves not found any o' ye scurvy writtins' so I be waitin' 'till a new list be up. I be needin' some more o' me grog, but that son of a biscuit eater wench is takin' too long. I could go for some salmagundi and a nipperkins or two right about now.
Where be lunch, wench? |
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| Avast |
[Apr. 4th, 2005|06:59 pm] |
Arrr. Today has been a bad day. Th' beer wench is late with me grog -- she be a bilge rat. Me bucko the Dread Pirate Kidd and I catched up on a bit of readin' to-day. Blimey -- so scurvy t'was that I had to wipe me eyes from laughin' so hard at it!
I'm off to go splice th' mainbrace with me newest buxom beauty. |
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