If I hadn’t been sailing around in a fog for the last month, I would have gotten my t-shirt made and would be wearing it today. I planned on it, thought about it, bookmarked the website, and just in time didn’t do it. Folks, I post more pone than most people ever dream about; in fact, I put the “Pro” in procrastination. Now that it’s too late to wear the t-shirt, I will get right on it and show you my creation as soon as I actually get it done, which will be sometime between now and Christmas, whichever comes last.
I also failed to find out where the nearest Krispy Kreme donut shop is. Online (here) I read that you will get a big surprise if you walk into one of their donut shops and say, “Arrr! Avast! Ahoy! Betwattled or be marooned, you chocolate-bellied, sugar-sprinkled landlubber! Hand over the booty! I be needin’ a free donut!” The website says you will be given a free donut if you talk like that, but the real surprise could be that you will be restrained and held against your will until the police arrive. Apparently, if you wear full pirate regalia and talk like that, you will receive a dozen donuts. I suppose it’s worth a try. The worst that could happen is that you end up at a place where lots of other people talk like pirates, think they are Napoleon, or think they are some kind of god. (And no, I’m not talking about your workplace.)
But back to the day and my shivering timbers. Pirate talk is a combination of growling German Shepherd, Dutch, Irish, and High Deppish (derived from classical John). So, to celebrate, I thought I would splice the main brace and add a wee bit of rum to me coffee, then crack me some cackle fruit to scramble. Unfortunately, I don’t have any rum or eggs in the house. Also, I have to go to work and arriving there squiffy is frowned upon by me Captain, who could very well make me walk the plank to meet Davy Jones.I don’t know about you, but he’s not someone I want to monkee around with.
Spit wit’ ye eye to eye later.
If you want to translate your words into Pirate, go here.