The Doctor

Eyeing the miscreant Scully, Jack fought to hide his contempt. Given the opportunity, he'd have the Dutchman's head. Very, very slowly.

Aye, mate. Here's a sure formula. Go to the east coast of Florida. Hit St. Augustine, New Smyrna, and Titusville. Check out the museums there. Stand on the ramparts of St. Augustine fort, the jetties of New Smyrna, and the shore of Titusville. Feel the wind in your hair, and breathe deep the salt air. Drink it deep, and feel it creep into your bones. Welcome it, embrace it, and accept it. Then, with that new fire in your blood, walk back through one of those exhibits of Spanish gold. Feel your blood race, your heart quicken, and your eyes burn. Gold. You want it. You need it. And then you'll realize... You're a pyrate, and the world had best watch out for ye! My realization came at age 10. And I've never looked back, because it's served me well. May it do so for you. :)

One of the best books I've ever read on Adm. Nelson is "Broadsides; The Age of Fighting Sail, 1775 - 1815" by Nathan Miller. It's an extraordinarily engaging discourse on naval combat and how Nelson revolutionized it, without ever shirking from relaying Nelson's many personal flaws. I've read the contents of his letter both to his wife and mistress, but I would love to see them with my own eyes. :)

The Missus and I are tryin' our best to blow cool winds your way! Lord know it's no fun gettin' all decked out in yer swag and havin' it be ungodly hot! Hoist a pint or many in thoughts of us, trapped in the Great White North...

Depending upon the outcome of the next Presidential election; I fully intend, upon a negative outcome, to hoist the black flack, secede from the Union, and declare my property the Sovereign Territory of New Libertania. Seriously, though.... I suppose you'd call me an educator/entertainer. I have engaged in swordplay to "educate" a braggart, and I admit to cheating in said engagement. I am a pyrate, after all!

I was gonna make a joke about popping buttons, but never mind....

"Gracias, Señor. Acepte por favor mis condolencias. A grevious offense, indeed." Jack turned his gaze to the Captain, and nodded as if to say "I am not at all surprised."

"Thank you , Captain. My curiousity is piqued: and please, Señor, if my question is out of line, I pray you take no offense." He shifted to proper Spanish, having never quite mastered Castillian pronunciation. "¿Dígame, Señor Vasquez - qué ofensas nuestro pasajero confió?" ("Tell me, Mister Vasquez- what offences did our passenger commit?")

Jack studied the Castillian over the top of his wine glass. A question nagged at him, but he decided to wait out the diplomatic tension that had arisen.

Jack paused at the gundeck, drinking in the moist sea air. He'd never been content on land, even as a child. Too limiting, to the point of suffocation of his spirit. The open water is where he vowed long ago to live out his life, knowing full well the sacrifices such freedom entailed. He made a final adjustment to his clothing; the frock coat was a near fit, but the expired Dutchman merchant he'd taken it from was a bit more portly through the belly. He'd taken the coat and breeches because the buttons were nicer than the mismatched and half-broken bone buttons of his clothing at the time. Jack had taken to tying a sash about his waist to disguise the relatively poor fit of his clothing. His recently restored memory warred with the more Bohemian style he'd become accustomed to, wishing secretly for the crisper dress of days and station gone by. "An orderly pyrate, of military comportment?", he quizzed himself laughingly. Deep down, he understood the calling of the Account. And he welcomed it's Siren's call of pure freedom. He adjusted his sword hanger, and with a nod to the Watch commander, proceeded to the Ward room.

The Pyracy Pub as an extension of "Schrodinger's Cat"?

All aboard!

I've always sworn I'd never collect "dustables", but I think and exception is about to be made. :)

Good for you, lass! You've hit what they call in the corporate world "The Numbing". Enjoy!

Something a la Lily St. Cyr, perhaps?

I had toyed with calling my "home office" the "Damned Souls Tavern", but since one of my cats, Caleb, likes to spend most of the day curled up next to my printer napping, I think it will end up being called the "Inn of the Snoring Cat".

Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd I love Sirius satellite radio!

"The Haunted Mansion" :) (I got stuck at the Seance for over an hour once, and I still remember the entire rhyme. That was 30 years ago...)

Give a Little Bit - Supertramp

Aw, spit. The network's back up. Time to resume spinnin' my wheels.

"Wakka-wakka!"

Jack acknowledged the Captain's request and went below for a more suitable shift of clothes. As he rummaged through his sea chest, he ran across his blue greatcoat, and smiled to himself as he ran his fingers across the brass buttons and showy braidwork. "Not today, old friend. But if we should encounter Monsieur Fournier again, I'll be calling on you", he thought to himself. Once attired more smartly and appropriately armed, he made his way to the Ward room. Official meals aboard this ship were never dull, and his curiousity outstripped his appetite as to what this one would bring...

Like a kid playing hooky. The company VPN servers are offline, and I can't work if I'm not connected, so..... WOOHOO!!

Jack hung back from the rest of the crew, smiling as the People grinned and cheered at the QuarterMaster's news of coin and liberty. But at the sound of Ciaran's alarm, he quickly made his way to the quarterdeck and Mr. Lasseter's side. The mood of the ship changed sharply as the crew crowded to the gunwale to catch a glimpse of the approaching launch. More than a few of them looked back to the quarterdeck with hardened eyes, ready to take any required action against the possible interlopers.

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