Them that dies shall be the lucky ones

Apparently today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day: I shit you not. It's not as if people actually need an excuse and a special day to act like embarrassing fuckwits, and those that do need an excuse to indulge in some Disney-inspired fantasy can always fall back on Halloween. I was accused of being joyless this morning for not entering into the spirit of things, so I poked the cunt in the eye and kicked him in the shin. While he was hopping and yelling in a distinctlyunpiratical fashion (more like a schoolgirl than a scourge of the High Seas), I suggested that he take a trip to west Hollywood where, I felt sure, he would find someone to plunder his booty. It has been a good start to the day.

I don't understand the fascination with talking like a pirate. Most of the pirates I have met are mainly interested in selling knock-off Britney Spears DVDs, and their talk is mostly a lot of tedious jargon about 'buffer overflows' and 'format string attacks'. Admittedly some of them smelt as if they had been at sea for some considerable period, but they were more likely to have acne than an eye patch.

Britney Spears - she's a yo ho ho after a bottle of rum