Happy International Talk Like A Pirate Day!

Avast, me earties! One of these ere page's bilge rats knowed us t be right fine sell-outs t any sort o keel-hauling oliday; why, we're the greatest sluggards in all skullduggery. We be the sorts as wink off at the slightest smidgen of a chance, at's right.

So when that lubber throwed us a rope on ow this be Talk like a Pirate Day we knowed we'd ave ourselves a right fine going at it, aye! Me earties an I vowed we'd neer stop at nothing. We'd go down t Davy Jone's locker afore we let the day go by without a smart turn from us. So we weighed anchor an hoisted the mizzen, an the three Jack Tars of us (which we says acause there's three of us) set off across th bounding main in search of a merry yarn t spin back ere. Yaharr.

Jack was so good as t bring along his ornpipe an struck up a skivvy, an blow me down if it wasn't the worst piece of ear-splitting t be eard in this section o ocean since Jack learned is skipper ad spirited away with is motherload an is wench. Arrr, when Jack tracked down that mangy dog e tied is miserable salt t the yardarm an didn't bring im down till is back teeth showed. Then e made is wench walk the plank. Jack learned his tars a mighty fine lesson at day, aye! Shiver me timbers! At's a man as really know how to skuttle is skippers.

But enough on ol Jack. Me have more tales to tell o him than are lubbers to fire out to portside. It's time to uncork me bung hole an let forth on what happened on me own ship, to say so. Me an these scurvy scallywags oisted the colors an set course for the sunrise in all manner o fine trappings, when who should come along but the greatest grand beauty yer er to clap eyes on. I do mean the mother o all buxom beauties, the sleekest schooner in all seven seas. Arrrrgh! Me an me bilge rats are shocked to the very boney.

Jack's th first to come by is wits. "Thar she blows!" says e, an e strikes up a merry ello with the beauty. "Prepare to be boarded," e says.

"Yarrrrr!" We shout, "dogs ahoy!" and we oist our grog skyward for t show we're behind im. Aye, Jack is a real barnacle, Jack is.

"Avast, ye varmint," she says. "I'll be skuttled afore I haul keel with the likes o ye."

"But me's lost af me lice when me schooner went down off Tortuga! I'm a clean one, that I be."

"Well, you can swim if you can't sail, arrrr! Now avast afore I crack yer skull atwixt me knees. Savvy?"

"Yarrrgh," Says Jack, for e knows e's been beaten. He scuttles back to the rest of us an makes us a fine proposition, aye. He says as we've been doing this merry oliday for nearly alf an our now, we'd best be making back to home where be grog and salmagundi an ridding ourselves of the booty.

So we did. And we will talk normally for the rest of the day.