Darkmalkin

Well, once upon a time, far far away, there wuz an elderly pyrate, sittin' in the retired pyrates park, feedin' the pidgeons. (don't ask with what. that's another, and more gruesome story.) Anyhow, this elderly pyrate is sittin there, with pidgeons roostin' on his peg leg an' all, when up walks this kid. And the kid is all in black leather, and he has one o' them newfangled spike hairdos, big long spikes stickin' straight up all over like Godzilla, and in all the colors of the rainbow. And the ole pyrate squints his eye (the one what ain't covered by the patch, o'course) and gives this kid a long careful appraisal. And the kid has a boombox on his shoulder, and the multicolored spikes of his hair are bobbin' to the music, and he sits down on the park bench in the Retired Pyrate's Park next to the elderly retired pyrate. And he's rockin' out, groovin to the music, and the elderly pyrate continues to stare at him from 'is single watery blue eye. And the kid feels like he's bein' stared at, but, being used to that, at first he ignores it. But the retired ol' pyrate continues to give him an appraising stare... And the kid finally says, "something wrong, ole man? Aintcha ever seen nothing like me?" And the pyrate responds, "No, quite the contrary. Ye see, I did a parrot once when I was feelin' desperate in Port Royal. And I was wonderin' if ye were me kid."

Ooops...busted.

yep, I don't even have any kids -- I had to hire some midgets! (Don't tell the Royaliste, tho )

Well, chimin' in on the PAIN discussion here, yep, they hurt. The one that goes across me spine hurt the worst. The ones done on areas where there is more fat underneath the skin hurt the least. But they was all memorable in the doin'

And the inevitable response is: "Is that a pickle in yer pocket or are ye just glad ta see me, HAR

Woo-hoo! Er, I mean ARR, thassa good'un, Cap'n!

Metallica's "Whiskey in the Jar" is one o' me favorite things, er. songs. Guess I won't be askin ye to join us at the Riverdance Revival Tour, eh? Are ye up for "Cats?"

I made the Bears flag outa slightly less than jeans-weight cotton, the appliques outa broadcloth. O'course, it don't fly onna ship, jest a flagpole here in Tornado Alley on Sundays during football season. For the last twelve years. Important thing is to reinforce the grommets.

Women with long hair who unbraid it outside bring storms. This one has something to do with the Flying Dutchman. I can't put me hands on the particular reference right now, tho. (I field-tested this once, back here in the cornfields, tornado alley. The neighbors' garage blew away. Coincidence? Probably. Whatever, they didn't thank me.)

Well, I ain't never made a pyrate flag, but a friend and I made a 3'x5' Chicago Bears flag for her son's birthday in this fashion -- I sketched the roaring bear's face on tissue paper, using a hat with a Bears logo for a model. I used the tissue paper like a pattern to cut out the bear from orange fabric. She machine embroidered all the details onto the bear's face, then machine embroidered the bear onto the navy blue background, along with lettering cut out of the same orange fabric as the bear's face that said "Chicago Bears." We added several sets of vertical orange stripes sewn onto the navy blue background. Added grommets and reinforcement for the grommets. That flag is over 12 years old and still flyin' proudly!

Yep, me youngest got an Orlando Bloom one off of ebay for about $25 including shipping. I'd rather have Cap'n Jack on me chest, but it was her own dubloons she was spendin' so what the heck.

Oh, sure. Blond prejudice if'n I ever heard it. Guess that means that me n' the hellspawn have to get our apps in early!

Weighin' in with the shorties, I be about 5'3 in me pyrate boots. The ship's cat is taller'n me...

Well, blow me down! I gets on here and it's all spanky-new! Tres kewl! Looks good, arrr!

Hmmm, interestingly enough, I just read that the French had a red banner that was called the "Oriflamme" that they used at the Battle of Crecy, circa 1343 or so, where the cream of French knighthood were cut down like corn by English longbows. This plain red standard meant that no quarter would be given.

And the full moon phase lasts for about 3 days -- so it was a full moon in the beginning sez I, and 'twere a full moon at the end, as explained by Joshua Red. (or mebbe just movie magic.) In any event, twas a fine, fine flick! Drink up, me hearties, Yo Ho!

Woo-hoo! I mean, er, ARRR Happy birthday to you! (Or should it be "Happy Berth-day to you"?

Well, I be centrally located, here in the Heartland (Iowa to be exact). Best time for me to go gallivantin' off is summertime before Labor Day Weekend. I get pretty busy with the Nishna River Renaissance Faire after that.

Hey, I want one of those! (Avatar or ship? Ye ask. Both! sez I...) I can't figure out how to cut my pix down small enough so that they don't take up the whole page.

And me stuck here in the cornfields. Damn and blast.

"Under the Black Flag", by David Cordingly, ISBN0-15-600-549-2. I also read something called "The True Story of Captain Kidd" (or something like that) a few months ago that was a biography with some pretty gruesome stuff in it (Yeah! Gruesome! Arrr!) I can't find it anywhere in my house anymore, so can't help you with the author or exact title. I picked it up in hardback at Barnes & Noble last winter and paid full price for it, (that's how gory it was) so it must be a relatively new release...

Well, you could allways take the scenic route, south around South America....

I'm workin me way through "Under the Black Flag," although it be hard going with me eyepatch an' all

Heh, me crew of critters includes four parrots (two red-loried amazons and two quakers) three big black cats and a wiener dog.

Arr, I think the hellspawn and I will be sledding down from the frozen tundra of Iowa to join in the festivities...I have honest-to-God experience as a ship's cook, in case ye need a new crew member! Otherwise I shall be amusing meself by adorning everyone within reach with airbrush tattoos and other body art of a bold and piratical nature, ye ken