Another mindless thread to get the Pirate thread count up

[black bart]

Aaaargh I be exhausted arter makin a voyage wiv Green Cap'n Smiff...

Every inch o the way all we got was: 'Watch out for that Dolphin, Mind that Whale, Careful there be a Rare Shark orf the Port Bow...

I even had ta make Vegetarian Fish Head Stew!

[anthrobabe]

Ah oi well amemberd Capn Green---- 'e were a speshul pirate 'e wuz. "E taught me so many new tricks.

[Griffin]

Aaaar! 'e wer so speshiul 'e wer jest loike me auntie.

[black bart]

Dear god has ye all forgotten The Easter Island debacle?

Surely ye aint forgotten the toim when Smith's crew ate the last Dodo?

Then there was his ill fated scheme ta replace the sails on his ship wiv solar panels...

The man's a disaster I tells ye!

[anthrobabe]

them solar panels be on tha roof o the Benbow now-- member tha made 'is ship almost sink

but that aint tha kinda tricks 'e taught me-- anyway the solar panels don't work as this be a misty foggy town.

ye he were a right git.

[Auntie Blackbeard]

Arrr, me dearies, oi be lookin fer sum strong young cabbin bouys to 'elp me hinstall solar panels in me Crow's Nest. Stop by yer Auntie's an lend a hand. Or a hook. There's good lads.

[black bart]

Arrrrgh...Ye be jus tryin ta get into Green Cap'n Smith's good books.

[The Black Spot]

Bah! Don't talk to me about Green Cap'n Smith.

The other day ee sez to me "Meet me tomorrow night for a drink and a curry. I'm buying." Well, that sounded alright in my book, so I meets 'im in The Mahatma Kote Restaurant on the high street. I were starvin' - I'd deliberately 'ad nuffin to eat all day, an' I were ready to eat a dinner that'd put a big hole in Smith's wallet.

"You're in for a treat tonight," said Green Cap'n Smith. "This restaurant does a very ecological menu; everything here is prepared so as not to harm the environment in any way."

Anyway, the first course turned up; it were a very thin, very pale soup. No lumps or nuffin innit. I sipped it - gah! It 'ad a nasty, insipid, slightly soapy flavour. I spits it out all o'er the table.

"What's this muck?" I sez.

"Nutshell broth," sez Smith. "People just throw nutshells away. Here, they make a healthy, nutritious starter from them. Cleans the palate wonderfully."

Cleans yer palate, I thought? Tastes more like one o' these tree-huggin' bastids had decided to recycle the dishwater. I slung the bowl at the nearest waiter an' told 'im to bring the next course out.

I needn't 'ave bothered. What turned up next were summit that looked like a bundle o' twigs wi' a spoonful o' cold sick poured over it.

"What the hell be this?" I sez, pokin' it wi' me fork.

"Chicken bone rissole," sez Green Smith crunchin' a mouthful o' the muck. "You see, most people just throw chicken bones away. Here they--"

"Smith," I sez. "Has ye ever thought about why people throw these things away?"

"Of course," 'ee sez. "It's because they're wasteful barbarians who have no thought at all for the planet. If..."

I missed the rest o' what Smith were sayin' coz I were so pleased with the nice "clunk" noise the pile o' chicken bones made when they bounced off the waiter's head.

"No, Smith," I sez. "They throw 'em away coz they be bluddy 'orrible. Everything in 'ere be bluddy 'orrible." I picked up a menu. "Look at this," I sez pointin' at the menu. "Eggshell fritter! An what's this - beak and claw flambe! And here - baked antlers!" I went to throw the menu at the waiter, but 'ee were hidin' in the kitchen. "Yer all bluddy nutters!" I shouted, an' stormed out an' went down the Admiral Benbow fer a pie made out o' the good bits o' an animal.

I tells ye, if Green Cap'n Smith ever invites me to a meal again, he'll get me carbon footprint up the arse o' his trousers.

[Mad Willyum Bonney]

BAH ! Capin Smith an' 'is "Newvow Cooseen " , why ... ye be leff 'ungree fer moors !
Mateys ... Ye canna go rong wiff ChowMein's reckquizzit cookbook ,

" Gore May Cooking Fer Thee Commun Pie Rut " . !

@#$%& ! Dang it all , iffein sum @#$% dun stole me copspee ! ( bless thee theven @#$% maggit ! )

[Moral Minority]

Grandpa p'd his pants again, he don't give a damn.
Brother Billy has both guns drawn, he ain't been right since Vietnam.
Daddy's doing sister Sally, Grandma's dying of cancer now.
The cattle all have brucelosis, we'll get through somehow.

[Rev. Rowan Redbeard]

<insert mindless "aarrgghh" here>

[black bart]

Bah! Don't talk to me about Green Cap'n Smith.

The other day ee sez to me "Meet me tomorrow night for a drink and a curry. I'm buying." Well, that sounded alright in my book, so I meets 'im in The Mahatma Kote Restaurant on the high street. I were starvin' - I'd deliberately 'ad nuffin to eat all day, an' I were ready to eat a dinner that'd put a big hole in Smith's wallet.

"You're in for a treat tonight," said Green Cap'n Smith. "This restaurant does a very ecological menu; everything here is prepared so as not to harm the environment in any way."

Anyway, the first course turned up; it were a very thin, very pale soup. No lumps or nuffin innit. I sipped it - gah! It 'ad a nasty, insipid, slightly soapy flavour. I spits it out all o'er the table.

"What's this muck?" I sez.

"Nutshell broth," sez Smith. "People just throw nutshells away. Here, they make a healthy, nutritious starter from them. Cleans the palate wonderfully."

Cleans yer palate, I thought? Tastes more like one o' these tree-huggin' bastids had decided to recycle the dishwater. I slung the bowl at the nearest waiter an' told 'im to bring the next course out.

I needn't 'ave bothered. What turned up next were summit that looked like a bundle o' twigs wi' a spoonful o' cold sick poured over it.

"What the hell be this?" I sez, pokin' it wi' me fork.

"Chicken bone rissole," sez Green Smith crunchin' a mouthful o' the muck. "You see, most people just throw chicken bones away. Here they--"

"Smith," I sez. "Has ye ever thought about why people throw these things away?"

"Of course," 'ee sez. "It's because they're wasteful barbarians who have no thought at all for the planet. If..."

I missed the rest o' what Smith were sayin' coz I were so pleased with the nice "clunk" noise the pile o' chicken bones made when they bounced off the waiter's head.

"No, Smith," I sez. "They throw 'em away coz they be bluddy 'orrible. Everything in 'ere be bluddy 'orrible." I picked up a menu. "Look at this," I sez pointin' at the menu. "Eggshell fritter! An what's this - beak and claw flambe! And here - baked antlers!" I went to throw the menu at the waiter, but 'ee were hidin' in the kitchen. "Yer all bluddy nutters!" I shouted, an' stormed out an' went down the Admiral Benbow fer a pie made out o' the good bits o' an animal.

I tells ye, if Green Cap'n Smith ever invites me to a meal again, he'll get me carbon footprint up the arse o' his trousers.

Have a bit o sympathy for those poor waiters Spot...that be just their evenin job, durin the day they works at the Fish Head Stew factory siftin out the bones to make toothpicks.

[pieces o'nine]

Yarrr, Black Spot, ye fergot wun.

Oi yused ter have sun lanlubber frens (they woz pyrates, too, but in a lan-locked, Hexcel spred-sheetin, nektigh-warin sort o' way) who regularly dined at a local hestablishment wot catered to their parrrticularrr crowd. Hennyways, thee moste popularrr appa taser were "Potato Skins". Roight hexpensive they were, too.

Oi asks ye: ware do yer fink thee "Potato Skins" come frum iffin not the "Baked Potato in Jacket" jus served to thee necks table ovver?

Managers not be thee sharpest cannonballs in thee bilge, sumtoimes...

[anthrobabe]

ye be rite Spot! rite on it

Stops by an ol Gert'll not five ye nuffin but a foine mess of meat, an potato wif lots o luverly gravy poured all over tha top o it all......

(note to self-- puts that one in the non-physical pickup line list--- )

[Rev. Rowan Redbeard]

Just throw Tiddles at him.