Category: Talk Like A Pirate Day

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Disney liked the concept, and bought it for millions.
But after two successful movies, they brought in a director who rebooted the franchise.
Instead of George, they featured Georgette, a black lesbian pirate who was the best at everything pirates do.
Hundreds of millions of dollars went into a Disney Plus series, and even more money was spent on reshoots.
Fans of the original George who criticized the new Georgette were called racists, sexists, bigots, and homophobes.
Despite terrible ratings, a second season was ordered, and it was worse.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
And you know what they say about those who can’t do.
So, he ran a summer pirate camp for kids.
Instead of making arts and crafts, they pillaged and looted.
Paddling their war canoes across the lake to raid other summer camps for their arts and crafts.
At the end of the summer, the kids would collect the ransom payments, pack their treasure, and head back home.
George wouldn’t see them for another year.
Well, except for the kids who signed up for the after-school pirate camp, that is.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Then again, when it came to women, he had a girl in every port.
Sometimes, two or three.
The problem was, after a while, the women got to talking, and they felt like they were getting played by George.
One minute, George was at the bar, drinking a tankard of beer.
The next, he was being dragged out by several of his former girlfriends.
They’d slipped a little something into his beer.
Three hours later, he woke up, hanging from a lamp post.
By what, I dare not mention.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
So, he gave up being a pirate and became a barber.
He partnered with the tavern next door so that customers could have a drink or two while they waited.
At first, some customers got drunk and rowdy, but they learned to police themselves, and only got a little tipsy before George would say “NEXT!”
He made good business, and the information he gathered from those tipsy customers was priceless.
Her Majesty’s Navy were delighted to listen as they came in for haircuts.
And they tipped George quite handsomely.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
The Pirate Party of Sweden called George and asked him if he was interested in running for parliament.
“But I’m not Swedish,” said George.
“Nobody is anymore,” said the Pirate Party representative. “Damned immigrants.”
George ran a sloppy campaign, but he more than made up for it at the debates.
He killed two of his opponents, and horribly maimed a third.
Running unopposed and under indictment for murder, George won the ballot easily.
“Now what?” said George, standing in Parliament, surrounded by people in suits babbling in incomprehensible Swedish.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
When he wasn’t pirating, he was playing amateur baseball.
He’d been hoping to be discovered by a scout, but the scouts all knew he was just as bad a baseball player as he was a pirate.
The rare times he managed to get to first base, he’d try to steal second, and get caught.
So, after the game, he’d steal second, third, home, first, the pitcher’s rubber, and pretty much anything that wasn’t nailed down.
He never played professionally. Instead, he umpired.
The bribes he collected were quite generous.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Every time someone said “booty” he’d giggle.
“What’s so damn funny?” yelled the captain.
“He said booty,” said George, trying not to laugh.
“What are you, three?” said the captain. “Now go swab the poopdeck.”
George laughed out loud and earned a night in the brig.
George made an audio tape with those words, and he ran it in a loop while he slept.
But he listened to it way too loud, temporarily deafening him for a month.
At least he stopped laughing at the words booty and poopdeck.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He once kidnapped a baby from a wealthy couple and held it for ransom.
While the parents negotiated with George, he had to change diapers, do midnight feedings, buy clothes, help with homework, and do everything else necessary in raising a child.
The negotiations took twenty-two years, ending when the kid graduated college.
“It was cheaper to let you raise him and then pay the ransom,” his parents said.
Their grown son, raised to be a pirate, made his parents walk the plank.
“That’s my boy!” said George proudly.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Pirates need a variety of skills to survive on the seas, and George’s skillset could best be described as “fake it till you make it.”
“Sure, I know Spanish,” said George, crossing the gangplank to the galleon they’d just captured.
He looked over the manifest and pointed out what to take and what to dump.
“Keep pants on your head and watch turtles!” George shouted at the captured crew, as they watched crates of gold go overboard while George had barrels of preserved corpses hauled out of the hold.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He was a decent medic, though, so even if he couldn’t fight well, it was after the fight that George shone.
He’d tear strips of cloth to use as bandages, heating the edge of a knife to burn wounds shut.
“We wouldn’t need a medic if we had you fighting alongside us,” said the captain.
Which George tried to take to heart, and he fought as well as he could.
Until the captain was wounded. “Medic!” shouted the captain.
George sheathed his sword and picked up a medical bag.