Cap't Buzzkill and the Aftermath

[Buzz and Cold Pimpin' are in an alehouse, at the business end of beery afternoon]





An' ye know what tha' worst thing is? She's gone an' put a restrainin' order on me. I canne' contact 'er even if aye wanted too!







To be fair, you did attempt to feed her to the crocodiles.








Aye merely ORDERED it, ya' lily livered genteel!







I'm afraid, good sir, that in her eyes the difference may be negligible.






She bloomin' got away, didn't she? So where's the 'arm? Ay've been tryin' ta' think of another way of talkin to 'er, you know, to tell 'er bout me feelins'. So aye wrote 'er a poem, aye did.






Oh capital. Please impart your distilled wisdom on mine ears sir, though I surely consider them unworthy to receive the impending script.






Put a cork in it ya' dandy, and jus' 'av a listen.

let go me son, let go, aye say
for rope stretched taught will break
those learn'd knots will fault aye say
regardless sweet sail make

ye boughs are warped
ye keel askew
ye mast bereft asunder

tha' water leaks
tha' floorboards creek
tha' crew make known their wonder

'oo knows these tides that break our front
each wave widows anew,
of monsoon scale
this evenin' gail
that 'opefuls sail into

Rubbish.

Aye think me metaphor might be a
lit'le 'eavy 'anded.











I think you should give serious consideration to never writing poetry again. Tell me, have you given limericks a crack? I believe their construct might be a little more malleable to your talents.










Ta' be 'onest, it be an old poem anyway, so aye prob'ly shouldna' use it. Aye just dunne' know what else ta' do mate.










Listen, my fish fouled friend, I have a proposal. Quite recently I have become the sole proprietor to a large fortune of engagingly proportioned 'hoes'. Perhaps you would consider accompanying me to get 'jiggy'? It has been my experience that nothing settles a partitioned mind quite like the embrace of a well endowed biatch.









Nay, nay. Ye a generous soul, aye grant ya', but me mind shan't know no rest until its 'ad its parlay.









Well said sir. Perhaps then, you might consider breaking your silence and just talking to the maiden?









An' say what exac'ly? That me bones ache to tha' point of agony from tha' drought that 'er absence 'as created? That aye'd do anything ta' be with 'er? Cap't rowboats for a livin', 'ave a 'alfwit theivin' scoundrel for a boson an' ne'er speak a word to 'er but 'appy ones?








Well, quite, although perhaps with one or two less pirate references. The sentiment is nice though.











Ay've always 'ad a 'abit of 'oldin that "to 'ave an' to 'old" 'oo 'aa in 'igh esteem.













Never would have guessed.

Cap't Buzzkill and the Breakup

Buzz, honey, I'm sorry to pull you out of your 'Captains with hatpins' meeting like this, it's just that I really needed to talk to you about something.






Oh ferchrist. 'Ere it comes.






I've been offered a position on another ship Buzz, I'm leaving you.







Ack! Bajesus! I be gobsmacked. Of all the scurvy... lowdown... Lily livered..

Why by thunder? Why?






Well, he just offers me such great opportunities Buzz! We'll be involved in all sorts of legitimate trading opportunities in the West Indies, he's been good friends with my family for years, and well, he's just.. so.. educated.. Buzz.






Educated? Blow me down. EDUCATED? I be educated too ya know!






You took night school Buzz.







I BE LEVEL FOUR IN SHIVERING TIMBERS BY THUNDER!







The board expelled you when they learned you'd been selling bootleg liquor to minors moonshined yourself in the mixed dorm bathtubs Buzz. Three of those kids got acute alcohol poisoning!






I thought they be just POSING as minors. And anyway, those hypocrites on the board would 'av 'ad nay'r a problem if I'd 'av plundered the grog meself! "Pirates don't brew" they told me. Scoundrels!






Really honey, this is all beside the point. I've made up my mind. It's not that I don't love you, it's just that all this nefarious behavior has to end at some point, and I just don't see you wanting the same things as me. Remember last week when I told you I thought our relationship needed more spark? You bought me a new canon. You just never listen Buzz.




That canon cost me 50 doubloons.

*sniff*






I'm sorry Buzz. I'm leaving now. Too many people will be hurt if I stay.








I be understandin' completely. Allow me tha' honour of sayin' just one more thing.






Of course Buzz.







I hope ye taste good. I wouldna' be wantin' to give acute scallywag poisonin' to tha' crocodile.

FEED HER TO 'EM ME HEARTIES!






Aye Aye! *shove*

The 'Bow and Leave' Technique

My Mum's great. She has an abundance of artistic and creative talent, cooks a mean Bolognaise, and gives great but often unwarranted advice. Yep, you sure can say a lot of things about my Mum, except for maybe one thing: Her comedic faculties are a little skeewiff.

Don't get me wrong. She laughs a lot. In fact, I've seen the whole team of Kenyon floozies in uncontrollable dinner table hysterics that would rival any 6 year old hearing his first ever fart joke. So, it's not that she doesn't love fun, it's just that she hasn't really been known to make up any jokes. Good ones anyway.

Until last Christmas holidays that is.

It was getting toward the end of a quiet night. Dad had trundled off to bed and Mum and I were spending the last remaining hours finishing off a bottle of red wine and watching Mum's VHS copy of Pride and Prejudice (BBC version of course). As embarrassed as I am to admit it, P&P has become a bit of a security blanket for me over the years. I once saw that a guy that had created a support group on Facebook called 'I know every line to the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice' and I was like 'Oh, what a great idea'. I guess for me it represents all the good things in life: Love, unrequited love, family, intelligence, quick-wittedness, Miss Eliza Bennet... meow.

But most of all: massive, rich, decked out, county estates. With lakes to fish in and horses to appear gallant on. My kingdom for such lavishness. I swear.

Anyway, enough discussion of such things. I can feel what small grasp I have left on my manliness slipping through my callous-free fingertips.

As we were watching the video, I was playfully giving Mum shit about the degradation of the film quality due to it's overuse. 'Dust!' she proclaimed, but I wasn't buying a word of it. Why would dust collect specifically around the area where Darcy asserts how much he 'ardently admires and loves' Lizzy? You can't fool me you old romantic.

During a ball scene, we watched a socially uncomfortable Darcy leave mid conversation by bowing stiffly to his contemporaries and simply walking away.

"Wouldn't that be great?" mused my Mum. "Imagine being at a dinner party and being stuck in a boring conversation. You could just bow, then leave!"

What. A. Concept.

Still rude to be sure, but so noble. Back in Sydney, I spread the word immediately. The Bronte crew thought it was the most inspired thing they'd ever heard of, but then they're easily amused. Particularly when it comes to new inappropriate ways to conduct themselves.

We began practicing the technique at a rather morose barbeque, and everything was progressing nicely until someone deemed to question my behavior after what I assumed was a perfectly executed bow and leave.

"What are you doing?" He asked, looking very confused.

"I'm bowing." I said. "Then leaving. It's a new thing we're doing."

"Well it's weird. And very impolite." He shook his head and walked away.

"Oh fine, just leave then!" I bellowed after him. "No wonder they say gallantry is DEAD!"

I quickly wanted to gesticulate just how much this breakdown of social formalities had affected me, but considering I'd already bowed once, I kinda just turned and skulked away.

My 'turn and skulk' technique definitely needs work.

Annual strategy and brainstorming meeting for Doorsigns Inc.

CEO: Well, we've had a pretty prosperous year all things considered. The 'No junk mail' signs have been a big hit, and I think we'd be wise to invest some heavy marketing dollars into the public awareness of them during the first fiscal quarter of this year.

The long term outlook for our 'Beware of the dog' signs have suffered to some degree due to a resurgence in the popularity of cats, but I think that with some broadening of our colour scheme we can safely reclaim some of that allusive market. I hear that cerulean and magenta are hip with the younger 'x-treme' generation, who could be key in this area. Take a note, Brian.



Now I'd like to open the floor to anyone who might have some new ideas for potential signage.



Bob: Personally, I'd like to see some 'No prostitutes here' signs introduced. You know, so that people know not to knock on my door when they're looking for hookers.



CEO: Bob, you've done it again.

Not. Even. Fuckin. Joking.

Stuff you really don't want to go to jail for

Oh crap, what have i done, why me, jail sucks etc.

Greetings Fish! And welcome to prison. My name is ARGH! COBRAS!, and I'll be your roomie for the next, oh, 8 years or so.

Oh. Um.. pleasure to be here i guess.

The pleasure is ours sir, i assure you.

Would it be rude for me to ask what you are in for?

Well, in a real-life jail context it would be considered the height of rudeness, and I'd probably have to shiv you. However, we live in a fabricated world that is the idle meanderings of a blog addicted web nerd. The likeness of me that you see on the left was screen captured from an early 90s PC game called 'Countdown' running on an software emulated x386 box*. You're that guy from 'some mothers do av em'.

So... we're cool?

As a cucumber.

Swell. So, what are you in for?

I am incarcerated presently due to an unfortunate incident that began amidst a lucid discussion regarding late fees and ended with me stabbing a librarian to death with a fork. I then ate her. With the same fork.

Oooo.. very nasty. Well done.

Thanks. You?

I erm... sold unpasteurized milk.

....

A fair bit of it actually.

....

Over many years.

Sooooo, do you wanna be my bitch now or later?

Later, if that's cool.

No dice. Fold my clothes, bitch.







* My Friday nights are getting weirder and weirder. You should have seen the convoluted process I had to go through to get this image. Marcus can testify. In my defence, we did go to a warehouse party afterwards. By my reckoning, the whole night can be looked upon as the social version of going carbon neutral.