NOTE: This post complies with ISO 9001 and Talk Like a Pirate Day standards.
Avast! It be Dread Pirate J. Things were to be back to normal in the stormy political seas of Washington D.C. (there be dragons there), but some meddlesome bloggers are trying to spoil the plundering of booty! I ought to run them through with me cutlass! Arrr!
Aye, the port of New Orleans was a fun place to spend the doubloons between pillaging, and miss it I do. But some landlubbers think the colonies’ taxes should go to helping the citizens of Orleans instead of the usual treasures – treasures they dismissively call “pork.” I say they should worry less the pork and worry more the grog, but they want people (pillagees, I call them) to tell the Parliament to cut this pork so there be money for the flooded New Orleans. Leading this be Reynolds, scourge of the puppies, the scurvy Bear, and blog-wench Malkin.
Arrr! Fools! All of them! Sure, you go to ye member of parliament and tell him to cut the pork for your state, then that just leaves more for the rest of us! Har har! Everyone else will be getting freeways named after their Senators and bronze statues of their Representatives, and you’ll have nothing to play with but your bilge pump! But I guess you’ll be happy because ye be helping the less fortunate.
Har har har!
Gave me a hearty laugh, there. The less fortunate just means more fools to plunder, lest ye be too chickenhearted for a good pillaging.
Now, I’ll be signaling my Senators to keep bringing home the pork… lest I keelhaul the lot of them.
Furthermore: Arrr!
don’t you mean too chickenhawk hearted?
mninb,
Arrr! That has to be the lamest thing I’ve heard a troll utter, and I’ve heard many a troll in me travels cross the seven seas.
Gar! When do we get to send the fearsome corsair RoverBlending Reynolds to Davy Jones’ locker?
Gar, mninb. Ye be walking the plank now, ye scurvy bilge rat!
Pirate’s Code Rule #1: Don’t piss off yer cap’n, in this case the Dread Pirate J!
With all this Pirate talkin going on, I have to wonder, where are the Crunchberries?
Oh and Shiver Me Timbers and soforth.
Aye, if pork ye be lookin for, and the tax-grubbin land-lubbers in the land o’ DC, be on ye guard mateys. With that much hot air comin from their hornpipes (i.e. gas), then there’s bound to be beans o’plenty. And bad beans they be.
Shiver me timbers, that be not the kind o pork n beans be to me likin.
‘Tis no good bein’ a troll, ye land lubber. Me wrinkley green skin scares most of the ladies away. An’ da ones dan’t aren’t scared, dey be da ones that keep me shiverin’ awake at night with me pistol an me knife, ready ta shoot any wench dat comes tru my cabin door.
Arr. And if you be about the city a’rapin and a’pillagin and you happin to run accross a gay young lass with blonde locks and orange “tights” feel free to remember Sir Winston Churchill’s assessment of life in the Royal Navy “Don’t talk to me about naval tradition. It’s nothing but rum, sodomy and the lash”… Feel free to apply all three liberally!
Sorry AquaQueerMatee ARRR!!!!
Lol, at least Jimmy Carter wasn’t a chickenhawk
Methinks mninb been playin’ too much with his bilge pump. Rattled his brains, he has.