Baristaville, we just heard from Reuters, that today is International "Talk Like A Pirate Day." Never heard of it?
It all started back in the 1990s as a cult joke between two American friends -- John "Ol Chumbucket" Baur and Mark "Capn Slappy" Summers -- but really took off when syndicated columnist Dave Barry got to hear about their surreal festival."We tap into that need for whimsy in people's lives," Summers says of the 24-hour celebration of quirkiness when they urge all self-respecting swashbucklers to show "pirattitude."
International Talk Like a Pirate Day (TLAPD), which adopted Treasure Island star Robert Newton as its patron saint, now attracts fans from as far afield as Britain and Australia and even boasts a special Wikipedia site on the Internet.
They're celebrating around the world..but if we have to talk pirates today, I'll think about Johnny Depp. Talk about your pirate fantasies, rum drinks, the last time you walked the plank, or anything else on your mind...
Digg
Delicious
StumbleUpon
Facebook
Twitter
Email
Comments (28)
I don't want to talk like a pirate. Anyway, today is also international grump day, and I'm in full flower.
Walleroo,
curmudgeons rock...now get out of my face
No "G". No "H". It's "Arrrrrr." "Arrgh" is what Charlie Brown said in "Peanuts." And, Grumperoo, what you need is a "yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum." Or a "Yoo-Hoo and a bottle of rum" (eep!). Your pick.
Every year this holiday comes and I say to myself "Has it already been a year!?" True story.
Hey, I like grumperoo! If elected mayor, I promise to eliminate all kindness and optimism in town government.
I'll take the rum, Conan, without the yoo hoo.
"If elected mayor, I promise to eliminate all kindness and optimism in town government."
Too late. Who knew?
As for the rum, may I suggest one of my favorites: Rhum Barbancourt, from Haiti. Available at many stores (I got it last at the ShopRite Wines & Spirits in Caldwell). Don't need Yoo-Hoo, Coca-Cola, or Tonic Water; good all by its own self. For more info, http://www.barbancourt.net/
Reason number 5 why I'm not a pirate: Rum and my stomach just don't get along.
reasons 1 - 4:
1) Ninjas are cooler than pirates and why settle for second best?
2) I don’t like spending my days out in the bright sun toiling on a deck.
3) I have all my limbs.
4) I don’t have scurvy.
You crack me up Katie!
I once had a boss who loved talking like a pirate - It also didn't help that I was wearing an eye patch due to surgery for like 3 months and he greeted me EVERY SINGLE DAY with an ARRRRRR Matey! It's cute the first few times, but trust me after a few weeks it wears quite thin!!
Ah, but you could have brought a sexual harrassment suit if he said, "surrender your booty!"
It's expensive to be a pirate! While we were at the Ren Faire this past weekend, we saw lots of pirate clothes and Medieval costumes for sale. While they were very well-made and beautiful, they cost hundreds of dollars for each piece. No wonder pirates plunder and pillage!
Modern day pirates don't wear any of that crap, Miss M. Just get a t-shirt that says "cull the geese" or "bambi was a beeyatch" or somesuch and you'll be fine.
Speaking of pirates, does anyone have information on the gentleman who wears pirate's garb and walks the streets of Montclair and Glen Ridge? I have not seen him in a long time.
Speaking of pirates, does anyone have information on the gentleman who wears pirate's garb and walks the streets of Montclair and Glen Ridge? I have not seen him in a long time.
Saw him on Suday walking up Bloomfield Ave from Rt 23 towards Montclair... listening to an iPod of all things! That's not very piratey!!!!
He's not dressed as a pirate- and he was covered here:
"Roy Downes walks around Montclair dressed like someone from the late 18th century. He wears knee britches from a supplier in Florida and three or four puffy shirts that a tailor in Verona made from him out of some broad cloth he found at a yard sale. In the winter, he wears a lot of leather and wool. He's not a war reenactor, and he's not on his way to a Revolutionary War battlefield. It's just that he feels more comfortable with that era than he does with ours."
http://www.baristanet.com/2006/06/the_time_travelers_life.php
and here:
http://tinyurl.com/yoqd2s
Thanks for the reference to Roy Downes. It was very educational, and I apologize if I offended Roy by my assumption that it was pirate garb he was wearing. I claim no knowledge of pre-modern fashion... or, indeed, of modern fashion either.
Is there an end to Roy's story?
my fave pirate expressions
Try them out:
"Argh the sea was angry that day"
"Is she seaworthy?"
"Walk the plank cathar"
He's alive and well. I often see him at the library. And like all of us eventually will be, he's been in "Weird NJ".
Maybe he was listening to an "Arrrr-Pod"
As far as kindness and optimism go there seems to be scant little of that in the general population of Baristaville so the government might as well reflect the constituancy(sp)
I think that the first order of business would be to mirror the whole town as people all seem to be enamered with themselves...
WHile it's not as romantic as the image of Errol Flynn in a long, buckled coat, high boots and frilly shirt (like the one Jerry Seinfeld once wore in an episode), your usual pirate today is a Somali or Moro or Malay "fisherman" on a small boat with about 20 cronies, all of them hefting Kalashnikovs and Skodas.
And thus terrifying the likes of walleroo as he heaves over the taffrail of his cruise ship.
But Conan is absolutely spot on about Rhum Barbancourt. How anything at all all gets produced in that chaotic country is beyond me, let alone something so smooth and beautifully made.
{{{And visions of Errol Flynn danced in her head...}}}}
Hang me for a seadog though you might wish, s'talker, even on the most loosely run ship none of the scurvy hearties ever takes as his "brethren of the coast" handle what remains an obscenity in polite company (which I realize this "place" isn't). Some captains supposedly even flogged those who spoke in such a fashion. Though never, of course, on a Sunday.
This certainly made me say "aargh" or something close to it --
This morning a young black man driving a maroon Mercedes SUV pulls into the parking slot in front of the nail parlor opposite Whole Foods on Bloomfield Ave. He steps out of his vehicle; he is wearing a top that looks like a jockey's silks as interpreted by Kandinsky & those ubiquitous black sweat pants with a double reflective stripe down the side. He strides to the sidewalk, turns around, grabs the parking meter with his left hand, leans over the curb in front of his SUV and vomits repeatedly.
He then nonchanlantly reaches into a pocket for change, feeds the parking meter and zips into nail parlor. Half a minute later he comes back out, opens to the driver's side door, pulls out a bottle of Listerine Blue, gargles and spits into the street. He pulls out a large bottle of Evian and repeats the procedure. He re-enters the nail parlor and spends the next hour having his nails done.
The most bizarre thing, I thought, was that he had the Listerine at the ready, as if this whole sequence of peculiar events had been meticulously planned.
Lung cancer sucks...the iceman and conan are about to lose a friend to this heinous and indiscriminate killer.
I'm not sure of the segue, but as one who had smoked for over thirty years, 3-5 pks a day (depended on how long I was awake), scares the shit out of me. Gave up the wicked weed in the last century (love that, even if 1999). My mother lost her best and oldest friend the disease, even though the women never smoked a day in her life. Another friend, an artist, a brawler you could never have a bad time with, gone in 3 months from diagnosis. I can only say live on with those people in your heart, for then they live forever.
I'm sorry. I've lost several friends and family members to lung cancer. It's awful, and very quick.
Sorry to hear about your friend.