Shiver me timbers!

It is only a few fleeting days that I have been reading the thrilling saga of Gus Openshaw's Whale-Killing Journal. Whenever I kick the pack of scurvy dogs out of the grog shoppe have no customers in my parlour I take the time to read of Gus' adventures in search of sweet revenge. Revenge on the rogue carnivorous sperm whale that ate his family (and his arm).

I'm so glad I stumbled onto Gus' sea-going log, it came highly recommended.

In spite of mad Vietnamese cleaver-wielding cooks and rather incompetent and none-too-bright pirates, Gus never wavers from his course; find the "blubbery b4$+4rd" (ooh, language! I do apologize) that devoured his happiness.

I should like to help, but there is very little that I, proprietress of a modest maritime-themed haven from the world's problems can do. However, needs must, do or die, all ship-shape and Bristol fashion! I shall "do my bit" in the search for the blubbery B. and hope that my efforts may aid the cause.

For now I content myself with watching for strange news from the high seas, such as the giant lobster found guarding a still-ticking watch... I'm sure there's a connection. Gus was wearing a watch on his missing arm. There can't be that many arms running around loose in the ocean.