PyratePhil

I realize it isn't on the same level of craftsmanship, but The Foundry has some affordable figures... But I think I'll be savin' me ha'pennies too!

...'tis true that ol' Blackbeard be feared But it's jes' because he's kinda' weird Those ribbons and wax Were just visual snacks When they caught fire to his black beard!

Nay, mate, ye not be drunke - -ye jes' ran into me ex- :)

I'll have ta make me own, since the site don't take PayPal...

Huzzah! ...as long as ye don't have any more o' them dragons ridin' shotgun on yer shoulders...makes a feller shy, it does...

*Drool* Oh, lad, I could be havin' fun with THAT lot... Enjoy!

Ye be honorin' me, M'Lady... His taste fer the thrill was known well And because of it, he'd go to Hell But the trip would be paid By the lasses he'd made And for them, his soul surely he'd sell. ( ST )

Then my work here is done... ...stand back, Citizen - there's more nefarious deeds afoot...and ahand....and...and...um...dang...er..up, up and..no, that's not it... Sheesh - bein' a SuperPyrate ain't all it's cracked up ta be...

This is a snatch from his bio... Wayne Curtis PO Box 7, Peaks Island, ME 04108 I'm an experienced nonfiction magazine, newspaper and book writer especially comfortable in covering topics related to travel, architecture, history, spirits (the drinking kind), and sense of place. Current project: Thoreau once wrote of "a demon not distinctly named in old mythology, who has acted a prominent and astounding part in our New England life, and deserves, as much as any mythological character, to have his biography written one day." He was writing about rum. I'm currently at work on that biography - a cultural, economic, and political biography of rum from 1640 to the present, to be published in 2006. Sorry, Wartooth - ye got's another year ta go at least!

37" of leg? No, sorry - no hope at all. Report to my office immediately for counseling.

(sigh) Some day I'll be gettin' back down thereabouts...

Tho' her picture changed to black and red I remember that one o' her head A true dark-haired lass Pretty one, with some class, Now I'll have good dreams in me bed. (flirt, flirt) Just looked at the Pub members list Some must be out playin' at whist There's just a few heros But too many zeros Must make Bloody Buckets real p*ssed.

Zounds! We be havin' a naughty little pyrate lass here... GOOD!

Many happy returns, Lady Maille!

Well... A fart's just a fart, after all Whether done in a church or a hall A rose just as sweet Would be quite an odd feat But the vapors be all natural

It's the same thing (only slightly off-topic) in something called "Push Hands" in taiji... You're SUPPOSED to use your sense of balance, feeling of energy, and kinesthetic sense (moving ability) to neutralize your opponents' attacks. Well, watching most modern-day competitions leaves me sad - it's become a wrestling match. It isn't always brute force that wins - although sometimes it does - but there's more to living, and dying, than just "who won"...

A Yuppy pyrate name o' Brett Sailed the seas in his shiny Corvette When he came into port He'd have loads of sport With Diana, Doreen, and Yvette.

I don't know abouts all o' you But it's so cold here I just turned blue Now the sportsmen are fishin' But I'm inside wishin' For cuddlin' a warm wench or two.

And soon the Faire times'll be startin' Which, fer me, tends to be quite disheartenin', 'Cause I follows the dames And get shot down in flames So you could say I'm endin' 'fore startin'. (I know - I used "startin'" twice - so hang me...)

Oh, thet be rich, Cap'n Pete! I think Merry's penquins wear tuxen And she confused tuxen with buxom See, Merry, me dame, You have fortune and fame, But I have oysters - and I shucks 'em. (Hey, I just finished teaching 3 private lessons, OK? BACK OFF! ) (doffs hat to Cap't. Morgan) - Well done, sir!

There once was a gal name o' Fancy Who wrote with the skill of Tom Clancy Her words, it is true Would turn strong pyrates blue But to top her, O' Lawd, would be chancy There once was a Pubtype named Doc A fair friend if ye went into shock If you'd whine and wheedle He'd stick in a needle Then stumble half-crocked 'round the block And then there was Dame MerryDeath (Whose sister I once knew - named Beth) A fantastic lass Lots of class, and nice a$$ But she needed to work on her breath. There once was a pyrate named Phil Who'd proclaim he was King of the Hill He'd hold court at sea Partying constantly Until he became violently ill

A lot depends upon what your goal is... Form is wonderful for its own sake...combat is something else entirely.

Awww, thet be sweet...I'll bring the grinder...

...but ye KNOW what happens a half-hour later...