Friday, April 29

My New, Even More Brilliant Career

Groggy SteinMy dears, I have taken the plunge. I have decided to offer on sale a few items that may be of interest to the imbibing piratical community that favors this establishment with their custom.

Strictly as a lark, mind you. If there is sufficient demand (indeed, if there is ANY at all) I may add more items of interest to all and sundry.

As the community is a rather diverse one, I shall endeavour to provide a wide range of sizings should I decide to offer apparel. On review of the available products, I see that I shall be able to offer a "dog shirt," which is apparently popular in the former Colonies. Mr Carlisle and Sea Rover will no doubt be happy about that. Regrettably, there appear to be NO "bird shirts" or "cat shirts" or "whale shirts." Again, it appears to be some sort of sizeist prejudice on the part of the cafe pressers. There aren't even any "figment shirts" but we've always gotten around that particular obstacle by believing in them anyway, haven't we?

Still, for those of us somewhere in the middle there seems to be a reasonable selection.

I do hope you'll drop by and give my little swaggery a butcher's. I was thinking of some rather droll bons mot to put on other items of clothing and such. Mr B is quite enthusiastic about photographing your humble publicanatrice but I did have to put my foot down about the costume; I should think a single red rose is definitely what NOT to wear.

Wednesday, April 27

A Skiffy Movie Preview: Serenity May 5th

My dim but enthusiastic American friend advises me that one of those science-fictiony movies is coming out soon, and there's to be a double-secret sneaky preview on May the 10th in one of 10 American cities. The movie is called "Serenity" and of course it's about those nice people ("shiny," she called them) from a telly show called "Firefly" that was cancelled rather too soon a brace of years ago.

She made me watch it when I was visiting. I must say it was a compelling, even a ripping space yarn. I did quite like that nice but rather scary Captain Tightpants fellow... actually, I quite liked everything about it. She also tells me that the sneaky preview will be held in one of ten cities:

  • Seattle

  • Austin

  • Sacramento

  • Boston

  • Altanta

  • Chicago

  • San Francisco

  • Las Vegas

  • Denver

  • Portland (the tree one in the Far West)


The double-secret part is that one must be a member of a secret fanny organization (I beg your pardon) in order to get tickets and the locations and times for the sneaky previews. Interested persons may join via the link thingy.

Friday, April 22

Piracy Trend Still At High Tide

Apparently the Skiffy lot (the gentlemen responsible for much of the science fiction on 'Merrikan telly) will be flogging a pirate game next summer.

That is, they shall be marketing a game about pirates. No pirates were flogged in the making of this game (so far as is known, but anything's possible).

Thursday, April 21

Happy Birthday, Mr Da V.


Now it can be told... it seems that this Da Vinci cove was somewhat smitten after our recent correspondence, though it's not a very good likeness. Still. I'll take it as drawn.

Thursday, April 14

Dead Celebrity Soulmate Search

How thrilling! I got a n'instantaneous response to my personal advert:

Leonardo da Vinci responds...
"I really need to finish these sketches for my latest invention, and then start work on the mechanical lion statue that has been commissioned by the King, but your beauty and intelligence captivate me. Let us meet, and soon!"


I wonder if dear Leibniz is registered? He is spoken for, of course. But he is dead and moderately famous, so he fulfills the two main requirements.

Hmm. I expect Mr. B. might like the "ideal date" idea: disrobe and lie on a couch in the artist's studio and be immortalized in sculpture. That might be good for a few amusing snaps.

Wednesday, April 13

Whale Ho! in...New Joisey?

Dear animated scamp Bugs Bunny said it best: "I knoo I shudda taken that left toin at Albuquoiquee."

It's a fascinating language, American. So exotic, colorful, and bumptuous.

Tuesday, April 12

Gus Tops Gaiman

This is worth a chuckle - it seems that at least on this one list, dear literary Gus's whale-killing journal is ahead of some obscure science-fictioner writer's blog. Fellow name of Neil Gaiman. P'raps you've heard of him? Wrote a few books, comics, and the odd short story or two.

(actually, Mr. Gaiman's work is excellent and well, well worth the read).

W00t!

Now one wonders if dear Keith (and his ninja-powered inhaler) will go on n'any book tours to the provinces (of course, in place of Captain Gus, who is likely busy with things now that he's home and all).

Oooo-er! Pirate Fonts

Note to self: this font comes compleat with bottle of grog and Jolly Roger.

Arrgh Ya Free Saturday Night?

This looks like a lovely fashion item for the piratically inclined... except... that gentleman in the corner has a winkie! And the lady (roll the mouse thingy over the "mens" icon) has bosoms! Who knew that mens and womens were so explicit on the Interweb?

Well, that certainly cuts to the quickie. P'on my word, it does. I do think that nearly-dear Nelson might have had a hand in it.

(DRAT! After all this time, too. Pardon.)

Thursday, April 7

Miz B's In Love


I fear I have fallen irrevokably in love. Mr. B will be ever so vexed. This is that rascally rogue Nelson's pet, who now has his own blog.

Yes, really. If you believe in daring sea captains blogging from durance extremely vile in Venezuelan jails smelling of insufficiently continent elephants, or modern day pirates living in extremely exotic tropical lairs, then you will also believe in a blogging dog.

After all, he's certainly not the first dogblogger, nor catblogger neither. But he is ever so engaging. Here he is after an adventure chasing catfish; he now knows the difference between the fishy sort of cat and the sort of cat that likes fishy.

Nelson, dear rogue, continues to regale us with yaaaarns about the Sugar Islands, which are definitely not The Grenadines though both island archipelagoes' economies are probably based on a certain syrupy sweet commodity.

It appears that Sea Rover favors a particular sort of cheese crisp; he even has a house brand according to the imagery shown on his fetching (Fetch! Fetch, Sea Rover!) blog.

As a continuing publican service, I shall display a copy of dear Gus' picaresque novel. I do wish to point out that this feature may occasionally be repeated, but it will most certainly not make it a re-publican service, as I have always voted the straight Labor ticket (though I've been having rather dark moods about that wet thicky Blair git for some years now).

OH! that reminds me. Speaking of Loooove, some more guests began appearing from all over the globe some weeks back. Almost all of them have been very nice people.

Just this morning, two very raffish chaps turned up just in their bathing costumes and the most gob-smackingly naff winter headgear I've ever laid me lamps on. Regardez:

Incredible as it may seem, the answer to your unspoken question is "Yes, they dressed themselves. Deliberately." It appears that the older brother bludgeoned a small mammal to death in order to fashion his chapeau. Was it perhaps...a marmot?


Coincidence? I think not.

But they are absolutely charming boys nevertheless. They seemed eager to renew their acquaintance with the blonde twinset - there are two pairs of attractive females currently in residence, and damme if I can tell all of them apart. They're all so much of a girlish muchness. Still and all, I think the one with the rather too-noticeable tailbone tattoo is... oh, bother. They all have names like "Courtney" and "Brittany" and "Buttercup" and "Kungalucia" in the States nowadays.

In any case, 'tis Spring and it appears Love (or its nearest modern equivalent) may possibly be In Bloom. And if so we shall have ever such a tactfully low-key tizzy over the rooming assignments in my nicer en suite accomodations, as the recently arrived darkly handsome Brothers may wish to enter into relations, diplomatic and otherwise, with the artificially blonde Not-Sisters.

Tuesday, April 5

Help Wanted: Vikings!

For any of Gus' former shipmates who are looking to make a career shift into a less dangerous line of work, the Midgard Historical Center is hiring Vikings.

In what is described as a "rare employment opportunity for Vikings," the center is hoping to hire some non-pillaging, non-looting, more friendly-like Vikings to interact with tourists, educate them in Viking ways, and most assuredly not inconvenience them in any way.

NOTE: it is a myth that Viking helmets had horns on. Thus, Vikings were not as horny as depicted in English monastic chronicles of the Middle Ages.

Saturday, April 2

Piratical Icons

If anyone should be in need of pirate-themed art for iconography and so forth, that nice accordion-playing Canadian-Filipino Joey lad has made some.

Friday, April 1

Adorable Pirate Doggy!

Dear rapidly-redeeming-himself-in-the-eyes-of-all-shipmates Nelson! He has posted the first ever pirate home video. It reveals the interior of his current lair and shows a recent training session with his new doggy, Sea Rover.

Snuggs! It's time to do a little gardening! We shall have to make sure the Pet Enclosure and Exercise Garden is ready for this season's guests!

I do apologize for being so remiss; this Blogger interweb thingy has been a bit wonky of late and it completely gobbled up an extremely diverting tale of a few days ago, which left me completely vexed and flummoxed.

It was something or other about Nelson's recent forays into the world of literature and his BLARG and so forth.

Speaking of the world of literature, I have been getting ever so many chuckles out of dear captain Gus' novel wot he wrote with the assistance of his clever but rather weedy stooge, Keith.

I became quite excited that he had put rats in, but alas! they were no relation to sweet li'l num-nums Bob.

Still, it's the thought that counts. And so far there have been several incidents that bear a slight relationship to Gus' actual real-life adventures, but of course in order to avoid legal problems with the Venezuelan federalies, he has had to change much in order to conceal his identity.

But he has followed the cardinal rule: write what you know. Clever of him.

I have not yet finished perusing the oeuvre, so please do not mention any spoilers or I shall have to cut you off quite, QUITE ruthlessly. However, I've read enough to go on with the book club meeting. Is anybody still lurking about?

And surely it's time we start planning a little tequila mayhem between the dears Gus and Ken and Senor Rojo Caballero Wotzisname?

And I do assume the wedding is still on? Otherwise we shall have rather diffy conversation with the caterer's concerning the shower nosh.

Wednesday, March 23

Venezuelan Land Pirates

Apparently ownership documents dating back to 1830 count for nothing with those jumped-up Venezuelans; they have confiscated a British-owned ranch. I expect that Vermin rotter is at the back of it.

While I applaud the concept of giving fallow land to poor people, I deplore the concept of government-sanctioned land piracy.

And once again, these people have no fashion sense.

Saturday, March 19

The Pirating News

It seems the late tragedy of the Asian tsunami cut back on the numbers of pirates in the Malacca Strait.

However, some pirates recently overpowered a... tugboat? and took some hostages.

Well, they have to start somewhere.

Shipped, Mates!

Such exciting news: the terribly nice and clever people at the publishers have decided to release dear captain Gus' book early from durance vile, or whatever it is they call literary limbo. I have been informed via my rather dim chum that I shall soon receive my copy of Pirates of Pensacola.

I suppose we had better get cracking around here and get that Book Club meeting scheduled. I wonder if the author (the true one) will be making any appearances? I suppose not, as Great Britain undoubtedly has extradition treaties with a number of inconveniently friendly former British colonies in the Caribbean.

Drat. However, it appears that my dim chum may be able to get her paws on a signed bookplate for me. We shall have to play spies and arrange a blind drop. It wouldn't do to have Nelson, or those bad hoodies that were after that Keith person know our home addresses. The information could be tortured out of them, and then we could receive many unsolicited pirate software and pharmaceutical emails.

I shouldn't mind so much about the unsolicited pirate emails so long as it was really about pirates and buccaneers and privateers and persons bearing a resemblance to either Johnny Depp or Errol Flynn offering to send one artistically posed photos.

No, that I shouldn't mind at all. But I do think it's a rather large temptation to put Nelson in charge of collecting everyone's addresses. For one thing, he might send out some of those "pix" of which he boasts. Still, I'd prefer Depp or Bloom or Flynn there, and no mistake. And for a n'other thing, he might show up on one's doorstep and expect unlimited drinkies and a free berth. And unless he were chaperoned by Flarq would not...

Well.

If Flarq were along, I suppose he'd keep Nelson in check and keep the very strange Nigerian banking chaps from getting the addresses. And we did wonder of Flarq might be interested in the position of "impressively well-built doorman with oiled muscles" that we've kept open here at the Shoppe for him.

There is not much else to report, my dears, except that things have been very quiet around here since those very loud, rude travelers left. The next batch began arriving a couple of weeks back and they've been quite delightful.

The first to arrive were two American gentlemen from somewhere deep in that part of the country where subtitles are apparently required for their countrymen to understand them. Dead useful, those subtitles. I can't think how it's done but yellow letters float in midair, translating every word and obscure countrified idiom they utter. And they are such nice blokes, and very handy with tools and mechanical things. They keep the McFinsters busy, what with the brothers handing them spanners and all. Pity the McFinsters can't really read a scrap, but they communicate by pantomime. Quite amusing, really; I've taken to sitting on the back terrace of an afternoon with a hot toddy as the mimery is ever so entertaining.

The next to arrive were two rather spectacular looking blonde ladies. They turned out to be surprisingly down to earth and friendly. They keep to themselves and seem to be either pining for absent friends, or contemplating yet another (!) tatoo.

Most recently, two very attractive and smart gels arrived, speaking fluent Spanish. Actually, they got in very late indeed and I had all but given up their rooms, but they called from a transport cafe about 3 hours away and explained they had taken a wrong turning. They seem to be newly-minted vegetarians; they requested meatless entrees but strike me as "newbies" when it comes to eating Green.

The two American gentlemen seem to be very happy for the company but are rather sweet and shy; for all that they seem quite solid and good-hearted souls. I have heard no dire warnings about screaming, blue-haired gentlemen but there has been a lot of talk about one young man whose machinations seem to rival those of the clever revolutionaries that threw out all that perfectly good tea in his home city of Boston many years ago in the late, late, late, late war.

In any case we seem to have a happy company of fellow travelers. And soon enough we shall be adding to the collection of tomes in the Gentlemen's Club Room (which also functions as a Library) with dear Gus' opus.

Tuesday, March 1

A Former Guest Comes Out Against Whale-Killing

My dears, I absolutely couldn't make this up if I used both hands, shut my eyes tightly, crouched down, and made a vigorous "pop-pop! pop-pop!" noise:
Avi: So when we got eliminated, the woman who took care of us - her name is Meredith Rabitzsky - or, actually, she has a new last name because she just got married, but she has a line production credit if you ever get to watch the credits as they flash by - but she took care of us. And I told her, 'There's one thing I want to do before I leave Iceland.' I said, 'I'd like to eat puffin.' And so the next day when we were basically lounging around, Joe and her went into town and they found a restaurant for me to eat puffin. And that gave birth to the sequester event, which is, Will Avi Eat It? And everywhere we went, there was something where the game was, Will Avi Eat It? And I still think the craziest stuff I ate was in Iceland. I did eat puffin, and although I am a true, true animal lover and a true, true environmentalist, I honestly thought there would never be another time I might be able to eat this, so I did try whale meat.

Interviewer: Oh, my.

Avi: And let me just say, and you can put it in print, they shouldn't be killing these creatures because they're sentient and they also really don't taste that good. Don't believe the hype.

Interviewer: [laughs]. It's not good on any level. Right?

Avi: No. It just goes to further show that there's just no reason to be killing these creatures. Really, I don't know what the Japanese are thinking.


There you have it: whale-killing is bad because they are sentient, thinking beings and also because they don't taste that good anyway.

The rest of this most delightful charming interview is on the site via the link thingy. I have a sneaking suspeeeecioun that the rugged New Zealander and his company will soon be sending some new guests our way. They may drop dark hints about "Sequesterville" or "Sequesteristan" but you may be sure that...

Oops. I should like to quote my favourite author (after Gus, of course):

"First thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers."

With the exception of the dear Bard and our other legal friends, of course.

In any case - whale will not be on the menu here at the Shoppe.

Friday, February 25

What Kind of Pyrate Be Ye?

It's about ruddy time we got on board with yet another time-wasting Interweb thingy, the "psychological" poll.

In this case, it's spot-on as far as topic:


Yarr. Ye won't be taking no liberties with the female buccaneer. Truly a bastion of feminism, ye woman pirate will seize ye gold, cut off ye genitals and wear them as a necklace, all before her morning grog. Empowering. Yarrr.

You see, my dears? It even mentions grog. I couldn't be chuffier. Yarrr.

I liberated this excellent (and refreshingly short) poll off Rum and Monkey, but I originally read of it at the Cornjob Memorial Library, whilst wearing a clever disguise.

Thursday, February 24

A most Nauticall Cove is Bilgemunky

Drat.

I suppose I shall have to be grateful to that raffish Nelson person for putting us all on to the delights of the clever pyrate-prymate Bilgemunky.

Such cheek. However, needs must. Ahem.

Thank you, Nelson.

And now that shall simply have to come off.