Avast! It be Talk like a Pirate Day so be ye of good cheer, saucy wenches!
And many thanks be to the Bitcherrrry readerrrrs who sent me the following instructional video, should you need a primerrrr on how to Talk like a Pirate.
So grab a tanker of grog, and keep your roger jolly, eh? Yaaaaaaaaaar!
Hmmm… I learned from this clip!
convention
I’m taking my cue from the pirate Jean Lafitte, who according to his biographers was eloquent, funny, charming and bright. Here’s an example:
Lafitte was visiting various plantations, whose owners hosted him while he was avoiding Louisiana Gov. Claiborne, who’d issued a warrant for Lafitte’s arrest. While visiting at Elmwood, a carriage pulled up with another guest—Gov. Claiborne’s lovely wife:
“The horrified mistress of the manor sent away all of her servants except for one who was ‘told to address Monsieur Lafitte as Monsieur Clement’. Lafitte was much amused by this ruse and entered into it ‘with all his ease and natural grace.’ Throughout the afternoon and evening Mrs. Claiborne was charmed and coquettish, never realizing that the man she was flirting with and her husband each had a price on the other’s head. When she returned to New Orleans, she ‘was extravagant in her praise of the most remarkable man she’d ever met.’”—From Patriotic Fire—Andrew Jackson and Jean Lafitte at the Battle of New Orleans by Winston Grooms.
As I said, that’s my kind of pirate!
Yarrr! I forgot about this. I shoulda told me kids before they went to school so they coulda annoyed their teachers all day.
I would, you know, but I have a job interveiw today and I don’t think they’d be impressed.
Yarr, I’ll be takin’ this opportunity tae discuss one o’ the burnin’ questions that have lain heavy on me mind since I first came tae this-here board: how be it that romance novels seem tae be so fond of the smelliest men in all history, what wi’ the pirates, and the Highlanders, and the cowboys, and the Vikings? None of ‘em was e’er known for their hygiene, if ye ken me meanin’. ‘Tis enough to scupper me poor scurvy-addled brain, so it is!
Sphinx, ye salty sea-urchin, it be because this be fantasy pirates, cowpokes, an the like! Ary a peek at the dentition o’ them reality-based knaves’d be enough t’send us all a-staggerin’ for the Listerine!
Arr!
Yaaar, Sphinx, it be the fantasy element of the stanky hero that renders him stankless and sexy, yo ho ho!
I be regalin’ me readers with th’story of me time on Cap’n Dyke’s fair ship, the Mound of Blue Dykes. Thar be skin, and action, and whippin’ t’spare.
Did anyone besides me see the guy that started this whole phenom on Wife Swap last night?
Thar be a link to the wench-swappin on the signal flag Ye Bitches ran up at the start ‘o this thread.
Avast, ye scurvy Bitches, what is a Pirate’s favrit’ letter o’ the alphabet?
The letter “P” because it looks like an “R†but it’s missin’ a leg!
Harrrrr!!!!
I do love me a Pirate, or a Viking, or a Highlander. Cowboys not so much. Vikings were actually kind of clean; they had communal steam baths in many of their settlements.
Arrr, gimme a Pirate any day, mateys.
Arrgh. It is never too late, Captain Morning Wood, to link to Cap’n Dyke. Do link, tho, or ye may hafta walk the plank.