Capt. Morgan

*Gasp!* Three Amigos!! Shall we call for the invisible swordsman?

Thats why we're here, Merry, thats why we're here...!

*Morgan puts his head in his hands, and shakes his head* The lasses are easily as bad as the men!! I love it!! Er, not the pic, or the male strippers, but the fact that the lasses are naughty... *shakes his head again* I'd better stop while I'm ahead...

One of my favs, that we (Marines) actually sing on a daily basis, at an obnoxiously loud volume, is the mail song, from Blues Clues... "Here's the mail/It never fails/It makes me wanna wag my tail/When it comes, I wanna wail, 'MAIL!!'" *shrugs defensively* Hey, mail is important to us grunts!

Okay, okay! You guys win!! I'm outta here! Male pirate strippers I want NO part of!! *begins attacking to the rear, 'cuz Marines don't retreat* Before I run away, er, make a hasty exit, tell your sister a late Happy Birthday, Christine! Hope she got everything she wanted! And, Happy Birthday to you to too, Siren!! *tosses a bunch of "Happy Birthday" water balloons, pops smoke to conceal his escape, and runs away*

Ha! EXACTLY the first thing that came to my mind when Siren said that... *looks at watch, scowls, looks at calendar* Christine beat me too it, however... I'm only a day late...

Up to the challenge? You have no idea! Like I said before, win or lose, either way, I win!

Mama and the Marines raised me right... nah, its all a cover, lass! Don't believe the hype! I was always partial to Tigger, myself... that's about how my personality is... and how cool ould it be to bounce that high? Ya know?!?

No, no, no, Siren... *breaks his piece in half and gives part back* Things are much more friendly when you share... *cocks eyebrow and scowls* That sounds like something from Winnie the Pooh... when did this place turn into a Disney cartoon? Hmmm, I may be partially to blame for that... *sits in the sand, whistling, "Under The Sea", munching his pie, and watching the surf*

*hearing the summer strains of the Beach Boys, and the mention of pie, Morgan decisdes to quit playing frogman on the bottom of the lagoon, and come to shore to join the fun... besides, its easier to defend against Siren's attacks while on land... * Pie? What kind of pie?!? *Looks at the lasses with his puppy-dog eyes*

*Morgan drops the garden hose, sulks, and mumbles something about "...no fun,"* Gotta love the play on words, here, lasses! Dang, yer all good... Since you are all being so mean to me today (okay, I'll admit, I love it...), I'm gonna go feed the birds... its tuppence a bag... Nah... that's so lonely. I know! Let's Go Fly A Kite, Up To The Highest Heights ! ! !

*Morgan, all soggy, lobs a couple of balloons at the lasses, knowing his aim is true* No no no, ladies... no matter what happens, I still win! HA HA HA!! Thats the beauty of it all! *grins evilly again, and reaches for the garden hose*

*Morgan, floating on a big inflatable raft (you know, the ones with the big palm tree attached, to provide instant shade) in the lagoon cracks open an eye... actually both, watching for ambushing lasses* 'ello, Christine... Merry left the chow on the picnic table, and there are fixin's for beverages in the cooler... *Morgan closes one eye, and spits water into the air, like a whale, for no particular reason, other than to see the strange phenomenon of water falling from the sunny California sky... *

*cracks knuckles* Are we going to start the water fights again, are we?!? Seems to me, I remember besting a couple of lovely lasses a couple weeks ago, in a water fight... *Morgan sits on the kitchen counter, right next to the sink, where he commences to fill the biggest Super Soaker ever seen... he then begins filling water balloons, which he stacks next to him, JUST IN CASE...* Seeing how I sadly missed the rum-soaking, I'd be most happy to assist in the cleaning... *cocks eyebrow, grins roguishly, and pumps water gun* :) Oh, and by the way... NO NERF ARROWS, "Roberta"!

Why, every time I slide in here for a quick visit, do I always end up singing, in a passable imitation of Sebastian the Crab, "Kiss the Girl" from the Little Mermaid? Could it be the whole moonlit lagoon thing? The mermaids splashing about? Or could it just be that I'm a goof, and will use any excuse to sing in a Jamaican accent? The mystery continues, unsolved . . . *Morgan cooks more marshmallows, dropping more into the fire than he manages to eat... throwing caution to the wind, he decides to go swimming, without waiting the recommended half hour after eating... *

AAAAAAAAHHHH!!! I missed Jimmy Buffett in Chicago (he's playing there tonight, coincidentally), and now I'll miss him by a few weeks in Cali, too! D@#N my luck!! Mebbe next year . . . (*grumbles*)

A Guinness toast indeed! If you guys go swimming, just watch for the sharks... I was feeding them burned S'Mores last night (or early this morning?), and they seem to be circling... under a starry sky, lit by a yellow moon, in the warm, warm ocean, blown by floral scented breezes!!

*Morgan stretches out on his towel, and props his pack under his head... and hears graham crackers crunch as he does so (drat the luck!)... Morgan tosses a little more wood on the fire to keep everyone warm, and watches as shooting stars streak across the sky, and slowly drifts as he listens to the surf crash...*

Great then! *Morgan bakes a couple of marshmallows... one catches fire and falls onto the coals...* Oops! That one was yours! Kidding, kidding... I'll make s'more! OMG, that was bad! Sorry! *Morgan munches a hot, fresh marshmallow, as the surf rolls onto the soft sand, and the crescent moon glows overhead*

Ha! Okay, okay! How about the finer points of S'More making? Myself, I like to roast the marshmallow til its golden on the outside, gooey on the inside, then I put it on a graham cracker with a piece of Hershey's bar, then hold the whole thing over the fire again, til the chocolate gets soft... *Morgan reaches into his pack, and brings out stuff for S'Mores...* Can I interest you in some?

Whoa! The ALZ unit sounds like a right freaky place to spend an evening! I was in Denmark last summer, and I visited one of the castles there, dating from the early 1200's... the Danes and Swedes fought over this castle for hundreds of years, and, obviously, we had to walk the battlefield to get up to the castle. Even though it was about 85 degrees, I felt chilled the whole time. And as I walked through the castle, there was one part where I swore I could smell freshly baked bread. I later found out that that was where the bakery had been!

Aye, scary indeed, lass! But wait! Ha ha!! I'm thinking we've turned the tables on the ghosts! We're now having fun at THEIR expense, yes no, mon cheri?

*munches on popcorn while listening to Christine's story... about halfway through, Morgan forgets to keep chewing, and his mouth hangs open* Brrrrr... wow! That reminds me of another one, actually. Like I mentioned before, I was stationed at Marine Barracks in DC... well, every Friday night during the summer, there is a parade at the Barracks. It goes at night, to add a little something to the ambiance. Before the guests arrive, the Marines have to make sure all of the offices throughout the Barracks have their lights turned out, and have the doors locked. I was in charge of making sure the lights were out one sultry summer evening back in '95, when I noticed a light on in the upstairs window of the band hall (where the world famous Marine Band practices). I grabbed the ONE AND ONLY key to the 2nd floor of the hall, unlocked the door, and turned out the light. About 10 minutes later, a Gunnery Sgt yells at me, asking why I was slacking in my duties. I told the gunny that I had no idea what he was talking about, and he pointed to the 2nd floor of the band hall. Confused, I went up again, UNLOCKED the door, and turned off the light. This went on a couple more times, at which point a very pissed off gunny finally told me to tape cardboard over the inside of the window, which I did. At the end of the night, after the parade was finshed, I returned to the hall, to find that the cardboard had been removed, but the lights had remained off during the parade. As I was leaving to go home for the night, I noticed the freakin' light was back on... *shivers and glances at Christine*

Ahem, ah, yes, well... Never fear, lass... no spooky spectre will harm a hair on yer head... at least while the fire is goin'... *Morgan quickly, but covertly tosses more wood on the fire*