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Grendle

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About Grendle

  • Birthday 03/25/1959

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    oldgrendle

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  • Location
    Pembroke, Georgia
  • Interests
    Lootin', pillagin', sackin' a major city
  1. Black's a colour now? The pyrate poker run ride in Savannah is now rescheded for the 17th of October (same times and places for redez vous, savvy?). Open invite to two-wheeled pyrates, blast ye, or four. There be $5,000 in booty on the line fer the winnin' hand.
  2. Oo, yar ... I fergetted that this becomin' Sunday, the Alee Temple Shriners in Savanner are hostin' a Pyrate Poker Run for us two-wheeled pyrates. It starts at around 11 Sunday, Oct. 3rd at John's V-Twin in Savannah (just off Abercorn at Montgomery Crossroads) and ends at Alee Temple. If'n ye be a biker pyrate, come on along. Me and me gang'll be gatherin' in Plumbroke at the Beep (Hwy. 280 at Hwy. 119 in Pembroke, Jawjuh) at 10 a.m. to parade on down. If'n ye'd rather meet us on the road somewheres between Plum Broke and Savannah, call me to arrange a rendez vous at 912-653-4692 in the nighttime.
  3. Arrr, the impendin' himmicane blew me plans for the Dragoncon right outer the water, blast me lights. Me belovered firstmate dinna want her #1 hatch-battener in the mountains when the cat was blowing across the yard. When's the crew gunna clot down Hilton's Head way? I can make that, belike! Grendle PS. Studley, since when did a broke pin drydock yer tankard-hoister?
  4. Helmsman Grendle .... I likes it! South by Sou'souwest it be, cap'n. She's answerin' the helm ... "Yes" she says, "yes!" And I likes it! Arrr.
  5. Ello ello ello. Grendle's the name. I be a fair hand, can reef, steer, shoot and mend, but me navigation is not harmed by rum (which is to say, nothing could make it much worse). The maths ain't a worry, but the dang sextant won't line up right fer me. I live in Plumbroke, Jawjuh, just a few leagues west o' Savannah. Pickins is slim here, bootywise. But I unnerstan there's rich marchants on the Headlands east o' here. :)
  6. Yes, indeedy, mate. I'd be intrested ye may bet. I have some experience sailing (solo on catboats and sloops). Let me know how I kin be in contack with ye fellers.
  7. I be in Savanner, Jawerjuh, where the roads is paved with the sculls o' the unwary (tho' the guides'll tell ye they're ballast stones).
  8. There be several types o' agin', y'know. The dye'll give ye the dark look, sure. Neatsfoot oil (a bit'll do'er), and saddle soap does wonders for the leather, too. Mellow shine, real deep. But for the appearance of real age, ye needs "distress" (which I spect is what ye was seeing that lassie's poorly dyed crossbelts) which can be accomplshed by what, in most cases, would be considered "abuse." Soaking with salt water, then thorough cleaning with saddle soap and treating with neatsfoot will give you a nicely "aged" lookin' belt, though it do reduce the strength o' the leather. Hope this helps. :)
  9. Arrr, I were there. Never saw a pyrate. Lotsa beauteous tall ships, lotsa beauteous womens, lots and lots o' rum, but never a pyrate.
  10. Now THAT be a question! What's the position o' the New Knighted States Coasties on armin' o' vessels? I means, e'en a swivel gun could be enow to sink a thin-skinned playsure craft wi' a single round. So be there regs or do they winks at us?
  11. Arr, and sum time, when they be in a partick you larlly evil dispose ishon, they'd drop a bound and nakkid prisoner into the box, called the Father Grabe, where a heavil beast called the Gard Empee (poorly trained and seckshally depreaved) would have its merry way with them, whilst the crew made pictures "fer later". Yo.
  12. Arrr, one (er, twa) o' the truly nice things aboot bein' a dimorphic species is appreciatin' the geometries. Vive les differences! :)
  13. Aye, it be a dangerous ting, this pyratin'. I caught meself snarlin' "Arrrgh!" at a contractor this very morning. Hardly pro feshunal, were it now? Arr!
  14. As I climbed to the deck, I heard the rough snores o' the crew, disposed however at their guns, as these was waters we knew to be rich with our prey. Aye, and the merchants knew it, too. She only carried six-pounders, and but five to a side, but they was sufficient, and with Mike Bollard as gunner to check the layin', we'd iron aplenty to disconcert the West Indiamen while we pulled in close enough to board.
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