PyratePhil

Ahh, that be a jewel, Lady DW... Will ye next be regalin' us wi' th' Adventures O' The 3 K-Marteers? Or, The Scary Mystery of the Sam's Club Boys...

Expierence has taught me that 'tis only you that will be after know'n that lad. Seach around yer soul a mite.... she'll speak up and then you'll know. In agreement I be, Mistress Bess...but I figgered this'd be the Forum's gal, NOT mine... ...I got me ENOUGH female voices speakin' up in me soul...

Your dinghy can do that? Aye - a well-trained and obedient little dinghy it be...

Hmmm.. I cant's be tellin' ye that, lass, 'tils I take me dinghy up me stream o' consciousness... It weren't really nothin' but scribblin'...but maybe, seein's as how yer all so's nice ta this ol' pyrate, I might be thinkin' o' some more structured scribblin' hereabouts... Anyone hereabout got's a name fer this ficshonal lass?

Aye... ...and Neptune knows they been in mine enough times!

Ah, but m'lady, th' fun be in th' peekin'! Asides, I'd not be confrontin' no experienced swordslady with naught but me semi-sharp wit'... But sure an' we could talk o' th' verbs and nouns what be related to swordplay...

...but it DID come out o' me fingers whilst waitin' fer the last student o' th' day...don't be knowin' iffn' it be the start o' a story o' jes plain stupid scribblin's...yer choice... ___________________________________________________________ No longer would she silently and obediently wait for her man to return to port. She’d learned the ancient ways of bladed warfare thanks to the friendly town armorer, who had more than once responded to her flashed smile and lowered eyelashes. And why wouldn’t he, if he were a red-blooded man? Not like that milquetoast husband of hers…Indeed, for that matter, why shouldn’t SHE use the knowledge, born in every woman, that the male species was naught but a tool to be used when needed, then discarded… Slashing the antique cutlass skillfully through the humid evening air, she grinned to herself. It felt good. Better than good – it felt natural. As if she were meant to be playing out this role at this very point in time. Oh, how her kin were taken aback when she confided in them about her plan – they just didn’t, and couldn’t, understand. Too many years of sameness, of living a life of no expectations other than to live and die. What had happened to life in those years? Where had the joy, the pure animalistic pleasure, gone? The full moon was streaming down on her delicate features now, giving an eerie phosphorescent glow to her cheekbones, causing her eyes to reflect a cold, blue light. Her movements began to acquire a rhythm of their own, a kind of dance-like reeling, and her supple arms carved graceful circles as she parried and thrust, over and over again. Her breathing, until now a quiet murmur, became a labored rasp as her exertions picked up speed, occasionally uttering a powerful grunt as she performed a particularly difficult move. Her practice ended, she paused momentarily to wipe the perspiration from her eyes. What was that? That movement, there in the shadow of the inn…the sound of footfalls echoing on cobblestones assaulted her ears. She thought to give chase, to discover who the knave was that would intrude on her private time, but soon thought better of it. What did it matter? By this time tomorrow, she’d be long gone from this accursed town.

...but, but...but what 'appens when ye arr a multiple-personality type o' bloke? I say, that wouldn't be quite cricket, old boy...y su madre esta muy bonita, tambien...but arrr, me matey, I be jes' toyin' wit' ye now...

Aye, he be, bitin' heads offn' albatross an' such... ...or be that Ted Goldnugget?... No, Alice Coopersmith be the one wi' eye shadow, like that Sparrow fella...

...and do ye still be shippin' out ta sea, 'r be ye landlocked fer a spell? There be an acupuncture point on yer ear fer seasickness - ye can get a little studdie-thing that stays on wit' tape, and when the mood hits ye, press the thingie and zippo - there be no more blues...

That be about th' size o' me lady friend, an' no mistake, each inch be countin'! Actually, m'lady, the words be not mine - they be from the poufy-shirted poet what's tied up in me hold - I find's that scribblin' types fetch a faire price at market... As the famous pyrate Alice Coopersmith once't sang, "Welcome ta me nightmare"!

Fair winds fer yer audition, Mistress Kat.

You, sir, be a cad and a layabout... My kind o' guy! Patricia tried to win me heart Yvonne came very close Rachel was the crazy one Andrea loved the most Theresa's still in no-man's land Erica tried too fast No wonder that I be Pyrate No wench o' mine can last. (and with this post, I becomes a "Notorious Pyrate" - HUZZAH!)

WHERE?!? Bwahahahahahaha....

Arrr...bloody Fates! That were YOU?!? I got's a shiner on me nose from runnin' inta a pole thanks ta ye...I were turnin' ta take a second look-see, and WHAM! Aye, it's always bein' fun to hassle Sir Eric...but did ye be knowin' that he and Sir Lucas are (so far's as I knows) the two top honchos of ImpactJousters? They prob'ly be the ones ye be speakin' with ta get a booth...and they also be at PARF...don't quite know what their status be there, asides jousters... Did ye get a chance to give a listen ta Empty Hats? I thought they were bein' a fine group...and I think I be in love...with Looney Lucy! As fer jobs at PARF - iffin ye go ta their website, they be havin' a section called "Jobs" or such like...they usually be booked a year in advance... Hey, signs up fer the next Endless Mts. Faire - if ye be a performer, we kin terrorize the kiddies together...or, if ye decide ta be a vendor-type, I'll be tellin' the playtrons ta give their custom ta ye...and in turn, ye kin be tellin' 'em all how manly and dashin' that Pyrate Phil be! Hopefully be seein' ye at PARF!

A few hints be here... 1. Iffn there be scallywags layin' about th' front door, droolin' and cussin' an' such, ye might want to be shippin' out ta th' next parlor o' ink. 2. Open jars o' leeches are a DEFINITE no-no. 3. Iffn the only flash they got's is airbrushed on th' walls an' signed "Paco 256", ye might be reconsiderin'. Dorian said it best, methinks... Tats been 'round fer over 5,000 years...ye'd think they'd be havin' it down by now, but there still be beastie places and palaces... It been a while since me last inkin', but as a needle-stickin' type meself (a little thingie called acupuncture what I picked up in the China Sea cruise), I don't quite know but that disposable needles should be th' standard...I wouldn't be doin' it any other way...

I always been th' "Black Sheep" o' society, iffin' ye knows what I means... What lured me inta it? As has been told here afore, freedom...th' chance ta meet other Black Sheep and compare notes, maybe even work out new ways ta beat the System... ...or... It seemed a goodly match betwixt me fightin', drinkin', and wenchin' skills... ...or... I already had's a HUGE wardrobe o' black clothes - why wastes 'em?... ...or... The Wenches, bless their little souls...A day without Wenches be like a day without floggin's...aye, I be talkin' ta YE, Goodwench... ...or... None o' yore business, ye sloe-eyed, pasty-livered rabbit-jumper! ...or... It seemed a good idea at the time...

M'lady Wench (...that be soundin' a might odd...) From Hallows Eve I need's reprieve From plastic pyrate toys From greasepaint beards 'n' rayon coats From men become young boys. I always say's a pyrate's soul Lies deep within their skin To cheapen it with Hong Kong stuff To me, is mortal sin. So when the tricksters do appear And beg for candy sweet I'll give 'em all a pyrate "Hi": Black boots on size 12 feet.

Most excellent, m'lady! ...'n' I be shure ta remember that tale when I run's across M'lady Merrydeath's wake...

Aye, I be soory I missed ye too, Miss Kat! Iffn' ye saw a strange feller what was walkin' about with a parrot on his shoulder - that be me Ye might also have seen me iffn ye caught the afternoon "Pirate Reprise" show at the Steel Rose stage...I were the "bad pyrate" what got beat up by th' Deputy. And aye, I don't mean to disparage th' Faire - it takes a brass monkey ta pull off a fest like this. In fact, I just received email from th' Pyrate King, that there's a better'n even chance that the Faire will be 3 weekends next year (and yers' truly has been invited to join the cast...ahem). Re: Porta-Long Johns - I guess I jes be a spoilt Pyrate! Vendors - aye, they DO need ta be makin' a wee bit of an investment, and their sales Monday, due ta the rain, must'a been horrendous. But many sed they'd be back, so huzzah! Don't mind the locals, missy - they jes be needin' some "edoocatin'"

Excuse me all, though I stand tall Some things do make me sick I'm not the nicest guy around Young children I do kick It's not so much the banishment I guess, that stokes my fears Jes' that a board on Pyracy Should bring forth mirth AND tears We like to play at being mean Romanticize our deeds But poetry can oft fulfill Some greater, inner needs This grand illusion that we love This calling to the sea Is well and good yet do I think We need reality Some might argue that poems and such Are just a waste of time If that be true, I'm telling you The time it wastes is mine ...fer example... _________________________________ Her sun-kissed hair was tossed about Like ships in roiling sea Three days I spent in hot pursuit In hopes she'd notice me The last day broke with torrents strong My chance at last was near To give her a fine parting shot Her heart, hopefully, spear A hand-writ note in finest ink On paper bled by rain Attempted to explain to her My inner lovelorn pain Then at long last the note was passed A moment became years I waited long with bated breath Would I see joy or tears? Her sun-kissed hair receeded then A swivel to her hips An aging pyrate's last reward: A kiss from ruby lips. __________________________________ Now that be jes a little ditty that came about from a pyrate/Ren Faire function I were attendin'...aye, it might be a waste o' tyme to some, but ta ME, it was EVERYTHING. To some, talk o' drinkin' and the latest Holly-would movie are mas importante - to me, they be smoke and mirrors, shadows and dust... Pyrates are not democratic, this I be knowin'...but then, in a REAL Pyrocracy, NONE o' us would be on a 'lectronic board - we'd be out haulin' ashes...so my question be - Who be wise enough to pass judgement on th' worth o' a piece o' writin'? _____________________________________________________ And thank ye, m'lady DW, fer the toast!

From all o' yer travels, Dream Wench, ye should know... Ye can't please all o' the people all o' the tyme.

I never dreamed that poems were Pop Tho' that is where they be It's evident this board is lost Without a Bard like me. To place the inspiration of a Muse 'longside of Sparrow Shows a degree of carelessness Nay - more, a thought that's narrow. But in the end, I guess, it shows How we are merely labels If Shakespeare were to come on board They'd prob'ly ban his fables. But woe is me to disagree I'm but a stranger here My words henceforth shall become scarce 'cause banishment I fear.

'ey! 'ey! You scalliwags ar' not ta be postin' no poems in this 'ere section! Away with ye!

With all due respect ta the admins and mods here... How hard be php ta be addin' a new catagory? It weren't like it be takin' up THET much space...