Category: Talk Like A Pirate Day

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He liked to send a lot of unsolicited email, and people reported him as a spammer.
“I’m a pirate, and we pirates loot and pillage towns and ports,” said George to his hosting provider. “And sometimes I notice that when some of my shipmates can’t get it up when they’re ravishing and raping, I make a note to send them an email about this herbal remedy I distribute.”
“Sounds reasonable to me,” said the administrator, and they turned his account back on.
George smiled, and sent out more email.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
While the other pirates went to the taverns, George went to the theater, ballet, and opera.
“Landlubber tripe!” his mateys said, and they laughed.
George didn’t mind them.
But George did notice a man at the ballet who bore an odd resemblance to the captain.
“My niece is the lead dancer tonight,” said the captain. “Not a word.”
To keep him quiet, the captain let George be captain for a day.
The crew, terrified of what might happen, spent that day at the theater, the ballet, and the opera.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Shipwrecks had fallen to rot and rust on the blood-soaked beach.
With every wave, bodies washed ashore.
A few, he recognized.
Collect wood to start a fire.
Sit a while, warm your hands.
Pass the bottle of whiskey around.
Tell stories of the old days.
Great battles and massive treasures.
We could have lived like kings.
If only… if only…
When is enough enough?
George looks around the fire.
He is alone.
Tossing the empty bottle into the fire.
Laying down on his side.
Closing his eyes to sleep.

Tomorrow, Ann was going off to college.
It wasn’t easy deciding what to take and what to leave behind.
She wouldn’t have enough room for everything.
This poster stays, this blanket comes with.
She looked at the shelf with her teddy bear collection.
Every one, her father had given her after he returned a business trip.
She held the bear with the eyepatch and bandanna.
“This one is from Puerto Rico,” he had said.
“George,” said Ann. “His name is George. George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.”
She put it in the box and smiled.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Even though stores in New Orleans sell replicas of the street signs, people want the real deal.
So, George went out with a hacksaw and a burlap sack to collect the actual street signs.
After George filled his burlap sack, he got lost because there weren’t any street signs.
“Siri, how do I get back to the ship?” he asked his iPhone.
No response. The battery was dead.
After he got arrested by the police, he used the police station’s phone to call the captain to bail him out.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Other pirates had scars and rashes and sunburn.
George’s skin was smooth and flawless.
He never went outside without waterproof sunblock.
And he covered his face with a bandanna to protect it against the sun and wind and sea spray.
“Are you going to cut holes in it so you can see?” asked the captain.
“Only when I can find a pair of sunglasses with full ultraviolet protection,” said George, feeling around.
“Oh, they’re over here,” said the captain, leading him to the railing.
And he pushed George overboard.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He didn’t like to loot and pillage like other pirates.
Instead, he liked to run his lemonade stand.
After all, sailors need Vitamin C to prevent scurvy, so might as well make it convenient and refreshing.
Even if sailors had their own supply of lemons and limes, there was something special about George’s lemonade that made it so popular.
Many came from all around to buy George’s lemonade.
After George retired from the lemonade stand, he finally divulged his secret ingredient.
“Rum,” said George, winking.
(Actually, it was vodka.)

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He heard stories of Blackbeard, who put candles and cannon fuses in his beard, giving off a thick black cloud that made him look like a demonic figure.
So, before the next battle, George covered himself with candles and cannon fuses, and lit them.
George was quickly engulfed in flames, and he ran around screaming.
The men on the other ship thought George was a demonic figure and quickly surrendered.
George’s shipmates knocked him overboard, dowsing the painful flames.
“He’s an idiot,” said the captain. “But a useful idiot.”

George was a pirate…
Well, more like he used to be a pirate.
George was always forgetting things.
But it became much worse over the years.
He’d just stand there, confused.
Right there in the middle of battle, in his underwear.
“Oh, right,” he’d say. “Yes.” And just stand there.
“Early onset dementia” is what the doctors said.
His shipmates came to visit him in the home.
“I’m Rummy Bill, remember?” said Rummy Bill, offering a swig from his jug of rum.
He didn’t remember.
Now, they say George was a great pirate.
Love makes people forget the bad times.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He had a lot of knowledge about piracy, but it was book knowledge, not experience.
For some things, you need that practical hands-on knowledge and years of experience.
Piracy is one of those. Heck, George even read that in a book.
So, George put the book down, and started to pillage and loot the library.
“SSSSSSHHHHHH!” hissed the librarian.
George apologized, and tried to pillage and loot quietly.
After a while, George became an expert at pillaging and looting quietly.
“Yar,” he’d whisper, and tiptoe softly as he plundered.