Category: Talk Like A Pirate Day

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
The people of Hamlin were desperate, so they called on George to rescue their children from The Pied Piper.
George came back the next day with crates full of rats, and he released them.
“No, you idiot,” said the mayor. “The Pied Piper led those away first. When we refused to pay, he led away our children.”
“Ah, ok,” said George. “Sorry.”
The next day, George came back with The Pied Piper.
“My rate has doubled,” said The Piper. “Oh, and I prefer Bitcoin.”
George took a 10% commission.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Any time he led a raid on another ship, things didn’t end well.
Unless you count that time George led a raid on that Filipino cruise ship.
They were going to rob the casino, but people mistook them for actors playing pirates.
“This is better than the shows in Vegas!” said the cruise ship’s captain. “Can you do this for every one of our cruise ships?”
George’s captain signed the contract, and they made more money playing pirate roles than actually being pirates.
George kept busy stitching up costumes.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Most sailors speak in ways that are saltier than the seas, but George did his best to avoid swearing.
He had a swear jar by his bunk, and every time he swore, he’d put a piece of eight in it.
His shipmates would steal from the jar, and George would shout “WHERE THE FUCK IS MY MONEY?”
And he’d drop another piece of eight in the jar. Which his shipmates would also steal.
His shipmates eventually stole enough money to throw themselves a party.
No, they didn’t invite George.

George was a dervish, but he wasn’t a very good dervish.
He tried to whirl, but he’d get dizzy quickly, and he’d trip over his own feet.
So, he tried to whirl the other way, and he’d trip over his feet even more quickly.
That’s when George decided to give up whirling, and he’d stand perfectly still.
“What good is a dervish who does not whirl?” growled his dance master.
“Does not the earth turn?” said George. “And orbit the sun? Which orbits the galaxy?”
The dance master pondered this, and then slapped George on the back of the head.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He sailed the world, adventuring with his shipmates.
But unlike them, he would take in local culture and cuisine.
He’d be sipping coffee at a sidewalk cafe or enjoying some delicacy in a hole-in-the-wall while they’d be lining up at the McDonalds for a Big Mac and fries.
And then they’d plunder and loot the place, burning it to the ground.
George didn’t try to convince his crewmates that going local was better than franchise food.
Because he didn’t want them plundering, looting, and burning his favorite places, too.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He spent most of his time on Facebook, telling his friends about his adventures.
Instead of actually doing anything. You know, like pillaging, looting, and plundering.
This annoyed the hell out of his shipmates, and they cut off his access to the ship’s WiFi.
But even the Guest access could access Facebook.
“It’s so that the people we kidnap for ransom can beg their relatives for money,” said the captain. “Or they can start a Kickstarter or something.”
The frustrated crew threw George’s laptop overboard. Then they threw George.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
You know how there’s no such thing as “bad” pizza or blowjob?
Well, don’t ask George to handle your bachelor party.
Rummy Bill learned that lesson the hard way.
One pizza. One stripper.
And the stripper turned out to be his fiancee’s sister.
She ate all of the pizza and threatened to tell her sister about the party.
Rummy Bill paid her off, but the next day, the wedding was off.
The sister snitched.
As Best Man, George felt relieved. Renting a tux was so damn expensive, you know?

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
One day, he and his shipmates took over a cargo vessel, filled with wooden crates marked “covfefe.”
“Did they just spell coffee wrong?” asked the captain.
“I don’t know,” said George. “Maybe we should open one of them?”
The captain agreed, and George got out a crowbar to open a crate.
That’s when he heard… something… something strange.
Claws scratching on wood. The snarling of a wild beast.
Two days later, the Royal Navy found George adrift in a lifeboat, covered in blood.
All he could say was “covfefe.”

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He worked off his frustrations by performing interpretive dance.
Along the pier, he’d twirl and leap and tumble, throwing his hands to the sky and screaming.
After a while, he got pretty good at it.
Pirates from all around would dock at the pier and watch George, and they’d applaud and give him money.
They became big productions, with a full stage, set designers, stage lighting, and a full orchestra.
It caused George so many headaches and frustrations.
So, he worked off his frustrations by being a pirate again.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Some suggested that he was some sort of agent, spying on pirates for the Royal Navy.
Which would explain George’s lack of pirating skills.
And the Royal Navy tattoo on his arm.
Oh, and the fact that all his mail was addressed to “Undercover Royal Navy Agent.”
George would take that mail and say “Oh, that must be a mistake. I’ll bring it back to the post office.”
He’d write notes in a little notebook, and take pictures of things.
“It’s an exchange program,” said the captain. “Don’t ask”