Hester

Oh, that's Vancouverites for you -- ya think they're all "lotus-land" pot-smoking gay grooms, but they're really a bunch of small "c" conservatives, and very uptight. Cheers, Hester ... a Torontonian with Vancouverite in-laws

crocodiles

Well, I did indeed order a copy from Amazon in a plain brown wrapper (together with a DVD of Pirates of Penzance!). I finally got around to watching it last night. As mentioned, this "R" version was heavily edited, and all the actual porn had been deleted. Indeed, I think there was really more explicit stuff in Yellowbeard. In fact, I've seen hotter sex on afternoon soap operas (and way hotter stuff on late-night satellite). The problem once the "distracting" bits are edited out, is that all you're left with is plot (weak), special effects (cheesy), and DIALOGUE! Goddess grace there was a lot of talk in this thing -- poorly written dialogue (including "poetry"!) delivered in flat, wooden tones by skanky porn stars. Yikes! The one saving grace was the Pirate Hunter captain, who delivered all his lines in an over-the-top, mock hero tone, like a parody of Errol Flynn or Dudley Do-Right. He seemed to be having great fun with the role, and was the only one who really got into the spirit of the thing. Cheers, Hester

quarter

Well, that was fun. The crab legs even had little barnacles on them -- so I felt like I was eating the crew of The Flying Dutchman.

Changed my mind. We're having crab boil -- whole Klondike Rose potatoes, corn oN the cob, and frozen snow crab legs, all in one pot. But damn, it's taking a long time to boil, and I'm STARVING!

A flock of Canada geese honking as they fly south past my window.

Pad Thai from a kit.

^believes in the beauty of the unadulterated human voice

^Oh, Goddess grace, I even have to answer my own Q! Okay -- FOUR! -- someone from the Captain Twill set to "tut-tut" over how out-of-period lightbulbs are; Pete Straw and Patrick Hand to have a long discussion over how similar in shape light bulbs are to female breasts; and Hester to sigh, get up on a chair, and change the damn thing herself. <Wondering why no one else likes this thread. And deciding to throw in another gratuitous picture of Stuart Townsend just for the hell of it: v Do you prefer the sound of the harpsichord or the piano, and why?

Ya, William: "God damn them all! I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold We'd fire no guns, shed no tears..." Cheers, Hester

rising

Hi, Captain Trade Wind: Many thanks for your research! So, I shall stay clear of Tortuga for the time being, but I'll keep hoping that the political situation in Haiti improves (even more so for the benefiet of the Haitian people themselves than for wannabe tourists like me). Cheers, Hester

Three different variations of the Irish folk song, "I Know My Love" -- one by the Corrs & the Chieftains, one by Eliza Carthy & Nancy Kerr, and one by James Yorkston -- none of which seems to match the sheet music that I have for my "solo" in singing class this term.

Goddess grace -- and what do you call that little cocktail? The "Barf Bucket"? I like Guinness. And I'll drink Tia Mia. But I ain't gonna mix 'em! Cheers, Hester

Hi, Piratesse: Once you've finished your message at the Disney site, send it as an e-mail to yourself. Then, from your e-mail, click on the link provided -- it will take you to a page with your completed message. Copy the URL of that page, and then paste it into the "http://" dialogue box in the Pub's interface. Hope that makes sense. Cheers, Hester

Aye! Today I did not make it in to the office. Migraine. Took something this morning and just woke up. About 7 hours later. Hi, Capt. Trade Wind: Sorry to hear about your migraine. I can empathize, as I get them too. Hope you are feeling better soon. Cheers, Hester

Geoffrey Rush

I'm waiting for the BEEFCAKE edition!

Hi, Shipwreck: Thanks for your kind words on my caterwauling. And don't lose heart over your own singing! Everyone's been telling me for years that I "can't" sing ... and it's only now that I'm in my 40s that I've become confident enough to say they're wrong. I signed myself up for a beginner's singing class at the local music conservatory last spring. Turns out, according to my teacher, that I not only CAN carry a tune, I'm usually on key too. Indeed, I believe everybody can and should sing if they enjoy it. As modern people used to overproduced, sanitized, homogenized pop "singers" on the radio and CD, we seem to have forgotten what the human voice actually sounds like, in all its raw, imperfect variety and beauty. According to my singing teacher, one of the reasons that people become so discouraged with their own attempts at singing is that they often try to sound like their favourite recording star, instead of finding their own voice. As well, we often attempt material that's not even in our range, just because we like the song. And in contemporary society, we're quite cruel and overly critical of one another's (and our own) singing. Strangely, insulting another person's singing is almost a reflex action with most people. As a fan of folk music, I've been going back to field recordings of original sources, and many of those people would not be considered "good" singers by contemporary standards, yet there is a joy and an honesty in their singing. So, Shipwreck, keep belting out your songs with glee ... whether in the shower or elsewhere. And if you wife doesn't like it, she can buy some earplugs! Cheers, Hester

Sounds like my menstrual cramps. Pretty hellish. Hope you feel better soon, Rats. Cheers, Hester

Yikes, I missed a page. Rawhide was my answer to "latigo". So, to "knowledge", I'll respond: Stupidity

rawhide

Legato! [One of the few words in Italian that I know, since our singing teacher keeps shouting it at us.]

I watched Yellowbeard on DVD on "Talk Like a Pirate Day". I was pleasently surprised by the high production values -- especially the ships. And the cameo by David Bowie was a nice touch: (Especially as his real name be "Davey Jones", and he's got a bit of pirate in his style:) What do others here at the pub think of Yellowbeard? Cheers, Hester