Posted on 09/19/2008 6:18:30 AM PDT by Lucky9teen
Yo Matey.......Where’s the head??
The market is going crazy!! I can’t lose any money.The
taxpayers will bail me out!
Try the poop deck.
Blow me down, you did it. Take me to him...
The Treasure....Where's the treasure??
On the Island....400 paces North....North of the.......................................
Hygiene is just that thing that happens to other pirates. You like what you like. Taking a cannonball to the head in your younger days hasn't helped. Not one to take risks, you enjoy quiet evenings communing with the other vermin down in the lower holds of the ship. You're a collector. You like things. Not, "nice" things - just things. Some people think of you as a blight on humanity - a carbuncle on the alabaster skin of homo erectus. In the Age of Pirates you'd have spent a lot of time below watching the rats fight for scraps of food. In the 21st Century, you'd be the kind of person who plays online games for four days at a stretch without showering, living solely on Mountain Dew, ramen noodles and Cool Ranch Doritos. What you lack in physical attractiveness you more than make up for in interesting skin conditions. On the job, it's almost a sure bet you work in a cubicle in a large office where nobody remembers your last name but they all talk about you, a lot.
What's Yer Inner Pirate?
brought to you by The Official Talk Like A Pirate Web Site. Arrrrr!
Yes they did! However, the state of this will quickly recover, much to the deomocraps sorrow.
“The King and his men
Stole the Queen from her bed,
And bound her in her bones.
The seas be ours
And by the powers
Where we will, we’ll roam
Yo ho! All hands!
Hoist the Colors high.
Yo ho! Thieves and beggars.
Never shall we die!”
To err is human.
To ARRR is pirate.
What's Yer Inner Pirate?
brought to you by The Official Talk Like A Pirate Web Site. Arrrrr!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_FqE0kgJBk
Popeye the Sailor man, age 750 ...
Popeye says, "I am what I yam."
Subject: Aunt Karen’s story
The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment: Get their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it.
The next day the kids came back and one by one began to tell their stories.
There were all the regular type stuff, spilled milk and pennies saved.
But then teacher realized, much to her dismay, that only Ernie was left.
‘Ernie, do you have a story to share?’
‘Yes ma’am. My daddy told a story about my Aunt Karen.
She was a pilot in Desert Storm and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory and all she had was a flask of whiskey, a pistol and a survival knife. She drank the whiskey on the way down so the bottle wouldn’t break and then her parachute landed right in the middle of twenty enemy troops.
She shot fifteen of them with the gun until she ran out of bullets, killed four more with the knife, till the blade broke, and then she killed the last enemy with her bare hands.’
‘Good Heavens’ said the horrified teacher ‘What kind of moral did your daddy tell you from this horrible story?’
‘Stay the F@#k away from Aunt Karen when she’s drinking.
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