Pirate General

Ahoy mateys, 'cause thar be now a pirate Jolly Roger, we should 'ave a pirate general!

Pirate Translator (Modern English to Pirate English): pirate.monkeyness.com/online_pirate_translator

Thread theme: youtube.com/watch?v=27mB8verLK8

(Internet) Pirate Parties Wikipedia Page: en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pirate_Party

Other urls found in this thread:

youtube.com/watch?v=B5OdMYcrHpA
youtube.com/watch?v=q6oKjuvA55g
youtube.com/watch?v=ta-Z_psXODw
youtube.com/watch?v=HhHBfIS63C0
twitter.com/AnonBabble

Are pirates white?

Caribbean.

The first were British

>Doctor Pavel, I be Captain Bill.
>He wasn't alone.
>Arrr, ye don't get to bring yer mateys.
>They not be me mateys.
>No need to worry, no doubloons for them.
>Why I be wantin' them?
>They be tryin' to grab yer treasure. They work for the privateer, the masked pirate.
>Banebeard?
>Aye.
>Get them on the ship, I'll send a message.
>[water sounds]
>Arrr, the shipping plan I just filed with Pirate Cove lists me, me crew, and doctor Pavel here, but only one o' ye!
>[First Mate Smee lowers the plank]
>First one o' ye to talk gets to stay on me ship!
>Who paid ye to shanghai Doctor Pavel?
>[shoots a musket into the air]
>He didn't swim so good! Who be wantin' to try next?
>Tell me about Banebeard! Why he be wearin' the mask?
>[loads musket]
>A lot o' loyalty for a hired pirate!
>Or perhaps he be wonderin' why someone would shoot a man, before making him walk the plank.
>[Smee lifts the plank]
>At least ye can talk. Who are ye?
>Arrr, it don't matter who we be, what be matterin' be our plan.
>No one be carin' who I was 'til I put on this mask.
>If I pulled that off, would ye go to Davy Jones' Locker?
>It would be extremely painful.
>Ye be a big pirate.
>For ye.
>Was stowin' away part o' your plan?
>Of course!
>[A larger ship rapidly approaches]
>Doctor Pavel be refusin' our offer in favour of ye, and we had to find out if he told ye where the treasure is buried.
>Nothin'! I be sayin' nothin'!
>Well good on ye! Ye stowed away!
>CAP'N?
>Now what's the next step o' yer master plan?
>Sinking this ship.
>[pirates on the other ship prepare to board]
>Draggin' ye all to the bottom!
>[Banebeard punches the captain]
>Shiver me timbers!
>[swordfight breaks out, with Banebeard's crew victorious]
>[Bane's First Mate prepares to leave after blowing a hole in the side of the ship]
>Yarrr, they be expectin' one of us in the shipwreck me boy!
>Have we released the Kraken?
>Aye
>[autistic screeching from Pavel]
>Arrr, calm down doctor, now not be the time for fear. That comes later.
...

Pirates can be o' any race, matey, but most pirates o' today's age are either middle crew teenagers wit' no credit card or black Somolis.

By the Queen! Stop this insolence immediately!

Wha' th' farrg did ye jus' farrgin' say about me, ye wee cur? Iâll 'ave ye know I graduated top o' me crew in th' Navy Seals, 'n Iâve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, 'n I 'ave o'er 300 confirmed scuttles. I be trained in gorilla warfare 'n Iâm th' top marksman in th' entire US fleet. Ye be naught t' me but jus' another target. I shall wipe ye th' farrg out wit' precision th' likes o' which has ne'er been seen afore on this Earth, mark me farrgin' words. Ye reckon ye can get away wit' sayin' that shit t' me o'er th' Internet? Reckon again, fucker. As we speak I be contactin' me secret network o' spies across th' USA 'n yer IP be bein' traced right now so ye better prepare fer th' storm, maggot. Th' storm that wipes out th' pathetic wee thin' ye call yer life. Yeâre farrgin' dead, sprog. I can be anywhere, anytime, 'n I can scuttle ye in o'er seven hundred ways, 'n thatâs jus' wit' me bare hands. Nah only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I 'ave access t' th' entire arsenal o' th' United States Marine Corps 'n I shall use it t' its full extent t' wipe yer miserable arse off th' face o' th' continent, ye wee shit. If only ye could 'ave known wha' unholy retribution yer wee âcleverâ comment was about t' brin' down upon ye, maybe ye would 'ave held yer farrgin' tongue. But ye couldnât, ye didnât, 'n now yeâre payin' th' price, ye goddamn idiot. I shall shit fury all o'er ye 'n ye will drown in it. Yeâre farrgin' dead, kiddo.

thread theme music

youtube.com/watch?v=B5OdMYcrHpA

>Listen to Ale storm "fuck you with an anchor"
>be a pirate

R

Dear Alka-Seltzer,

I 'ave been a long time optimistic user o' yer fizzlebang solution, designed t' soothe th' pain in scallywags who 'ave eaten too much mustard th' night afore th' lootin' o' th' alkaseltzer.

Treneer, can ye tell th' battle t' keep it down, I âm tryin' t' reckon here.

Yer productification must be defective or else I be immune, as even exceedin' th' maximum recommended dosage by several factors be ineffective in eliminatin' any hang o'erâ from said mustard ingestion.

I 'ave experienced a large number o' side effects as result o' all yer Alka-Seltzer tableaux, such as; bein' able t' feel me brain, nah bein' able t' feel me brain, congealin' o' th' will t' live, unclean teeth, a dichromatic appetite, stiffness o' th' eyes, reductificalisin' o' th' cotangent, resistance t' sun light, desire but inability t' sleep, trinominal fluid exchange, 'n sausage breathe.

correct these problems immediately, 'n 'twould beâ wha's th' word good, if ye refunded me fer this duffacicious purchase.

Yers soberely,

Captain Bilgewater.

Aye this be the thread theme
youtube.com/watch?v=q6oKjuvA55g

>lets talk about the niggers of the sea

No thanks

I saw Ryan Goslin' at a market in Los Angeles yesterday. I told 'im how cool 'twas t' meet 'im in scallywag, but I didn't wants t' be a douche 'n bother 'im 'n ask 'im fer photos or anythin'.
He said, "Oh, like yea're doin' now?"
I was taken aback, 'n all I could say was "Huh?" but he kept cuttin' me off 'n goin' "huh? huh? huh?" 'n closin' his hand shut in front o' me face. I walked away 'n continued wit' me shoppin', 'n I heard 'im chuckle as I walked off. When I came t' pay fer me stuff up front I saw 'im tryin' t' walk out th' doors wit' like fifteen Milky Ways in his hands without payin'.
Th' poppet at th' counter was mighty nice about it 'n professional, 'n was like "Sir, ye needs t' pay fer those first." At first he kept pretendin' t' be tired 'n nah hear her, but eventually turned back around 'n brought them t' th' counter.
When she loot one o' th' bars 'n started scannin' it multiple times, he stopped her 'n told her t' scan them each individually "t' prevent any electrical infetterence," 'n then turned around 'n winked at me. I don't even reckon that's a word. Aft she scanned each bar 'n put them in a bag 'n started t' say th' price, he kept interruptin' her by yawnin' really loudly.

Greetin's t' ye Cap'n Trump. We once met some years ago when I bombarded one o' yer croquet courses durin' a pillage. How are ye? I be fine. I be sure that th' sayin' be quite correct 'n that time be a great healer, 'n that ye've calmed down by now.

When I did meet ye I was impressed wit' yer hair. Could ye possibly tell me where ye got it? I understand that yer wig maker may be based somewhere in th' colonies, but even then a name would be good t' 'ave, or perhaps ye, or he, might share information on th' unique weave. Be it horse's hair per chance?

I 'ave all me hair ye see, but last year much o' 'twas burnt off durin' me battalion's holdin' o' a wee farm, 'n I would like t' be prepared fer another such occasion. As ye be swab shaven I doubt ye know where I might find a maker o' good false beards, but if ye do tell me. I would like t' thank ye fer passin' on yer wig maker's name in advance â I mean I be thankin' ye in advance, nah that I be thankin' ye fer passin' on in ad, ahem- as I know it can be a sensitive subject. Yer hair looks quite spectacular, 'n be sure t' get ye noticed durin' yer campaign t' become th' Kin' o' America.

I know mighty wee about th' Americas except o' course that Britain won a war enablin' her t' give up th' immense responsibilities o' moddycoddlin' her distant possessions, but I 'ave heard a wee about yer proposistions. I shall refrain from political commentary, 'n only give practical advice about yer idea fer a wall along yer borders. In Europe we 'ave thin's called cannons which are like catapults, but wit' explosive ammunition that can destroy even th' strongest forts 'n walls. 'tis quite possible that either Canada or Mexico may buy some o' these canons 'n use them against yer wall, renderin' yer hardwork handsomely lost. 'twould be better, I believe, aft some consideration, t' build a moat. I hear yer country has good access t' cheap immigrant labour.

But I shall o' course leave th' details t' ye.

ARRRRR! YE SCALLYWAGS HAVE NOWHERE TO HIDE! WE WILL BE PLUNDERIN' FOR BOOTY FROM SUNDOWN TO SUNSET UNTIL WE TAKE A SAIL TO DAVEY JONE'S LOCKER! ARRRRR!

the times they arr a changin'.

No shoes nation

Start postin' pictures o' Taylor Swift. She be th' best lookin' wench in th' world. I would 'ave sex wit' her everyday 'til I die.

Cap'n Coca Coca, may I congratulate ye on yer ungodly abilities in marketin' wha' yer crew 'n I bothest must be in awareness o'; that yer product's acid stin' 'n erosion o' th' tooth 'n palette, much in th' pattern o' syphilis, be neither thirst quenchin' nor mighty good at shinnin' brass. 'til recently I believed Coca Coca t' be a most brown-worthy product fer its generously ingredient o' Peruvian marchin' powder.

However, me First Mate, who's name can only be pronounced by shoutin': First Mate Mad Dog Rapist of Cavendish-Fortesque Th' Wide Eyed o' Loxley Heath, informed me th' other day that ye 'ave scuttled all traces o' coca from yer beverage in th' favour o' sugar.

Me ship cannot be expected t' force-sail twenty-seven miles 'n engage Boney's scallywags on th' substance enjoyed by wee poppets who flounce around drinkin' Darjeelin' 'n courtesyin' at dandy rotters. Perhaps ye 'ave mistaken one white powder fer another.

Regardless, I urge ye t' put th' coca back into yer Coca Coca, fer me owns request aye, but conversely I cannot see any patron puttin' up wit' a taste like th' slurry from a tray o' ole toffee apples if thar be no benefit in th' form o' a buzz.

I thought I got rid of you bastards once before

Postin' some more pictures o' this beautiful strumpet. I would shiver her timbers, if ye know wha' I mean. Arrrrrr

>be me
>Fall on a steel dumbell wit' yer skull soft spot
>Become liberal 'n believe propaganda
>Believe pol isnt full o' jew shills
>loot bbc in arse

Pirates r gay

Nope. We sent yer ships t' Davey Jones' Locker. All o' yer scallywags died. Ye will ne'er defeat us! Arrrr

Oh man, it's great

Our Articles
I. Every man has a vote in affairs of moment; has equal title to the fresh provisions, or strong liquors, at any time seized, and may use them at pleasure, unless a scarcity makes it necessary, for the good of all, to vote a retrenchment.

II. Every man to be called fairly in turn, by list, on board of prizes because, (over and above their proper share,) they were on these occasions allowed a shift of clothes: but if they defrauded the company to the value of a dollar in plate jewels or money, marooning was their punishment If the robbery was only betwixt one another they contented themselves with slitting the ears and nose of him that was guilty, and set him on shore not in an uninhabited place, but somewhere, where he was sure to encounter hardships

III. No person to game at cards or dice for money

IV. The lights and candles to be put out at eight o'clock at night: if any of the crew, after that hour still remained inclined for drinking, they were to do it on the open deck

V. To keep their piece, pistols, and cutlass clean and fit for service.

VI. No boy or woman to be allowed amogst them. If any man were to be found seducing any of the latter sex, and carried her to sea, disguised, he was to suffer death;

VII. To desert the ship or their quarters in battle, was punished with death or marooning.

VIII. No striking one another on board, but every man's quarrels to be ended on shore, at sword and pistol.

IX. No man to talk of breaking up their way of living, till each had shared one thousand pounds. If in order to this, any man should lose a limb, or become a cripple in their service, he was to have eight hundred dollars, out of the public stock, and for lesser hurts, proportionately.

X. The Captain and Quartermaster to receive two shares of a prize: the master, boatswain, and gunner, one share and a half, and other officers one and quarter.

Captains,
it seems t'me that thar's a big problem n' the community at present tyme. These Somali pirates are mistrpresentin' us. How do ye all say we go about provin' that pirates are a peaceful lot?
Thank ye kindly.

One night I was sittin' on th' cot watchin' me favourite TV show, when I heard a voice say "Come here me sprog, follow me voice". I did wha' th' voice wanted 'n followed it into th' galley. I was surprised t' see a giant can o' Chef Boyardee sittin' in th' middle o' me galley. I stood thar 'n stared in amazement, wonderin' wha' would happen next. Then, he broke th' silence, 'n asked "Why haven't ye been eatin' yer Chef Boyardee, me sprog?" I said "I didn' like Chef Boyardee anymore." He said I was lyin', 'n asked me t' climb inside o' 'im. I said no. Then, he pulled out a gun 'n said "Get inside o' me or I shall scuttle ye." I said "Okay", 'n climbed inside o' 'im. Th' Chef Boyardee was like quicksand; th' more ye struggle, th' quicker ye sink. Aft a while, th' Chef Boyardee consumed me, 'n I fell into a Chef Boyardee void. I fell fer wha' seemed like hours, 'n then, a white light consumed me, 'n I woke up, layin' on th' floor in th' galley. I was reborn; I was a new scallywag. I stood up 'n said "Thank ye, chef." He smiled, 'n floated into th' floor. Ever since that night, I 'ave been eatin' Chef Boyardee fer grub, grub 'n grub. Me scallywags don't like me anymore, 'cause all I natter about be Chef Boyardee. But that didn' matter. I don't needs them, 'cause I shall always 'ave me Chef Boyardee.

Taylor Swift me dear, yer face be as enchantin' as an Arabian night, 'n aye o' course I realise, t' th' particular, that ye be o' th' Palestinian persuasion. But I be o' an open mind 'n ye, most o', most are a complete beauty.


Taylor, me enchantress, yer peculiar nose, be most enfetchin', 'n yer mole be irresistible, fer an imperfection. Th' besmirch o' course, be yer employment wit' Katy Perry, which occurred in th' past 'n which I quite feel that ye were indeed much th' victim.

I was glad t' see Schindler escaped aft th' fourth film, Film One. O' course, aft all o' Star Trek, yer owns career has gone from strength t' strength like a rabid ape-scallywag swingin' from vine-t'-vine in th' jungle o' me heart; that be ye Taylor.

O' course, me wet flower, I be minutely a wee too ole t' concern yer tanned hands, 'n all me sons 'ave died o' scallywags, in battle, apart from Godfrey who died wit' his mother in sprog birth, o' which, I be assured, well... quite.

'tis me predicament 'n fascillination, 'n I hope ye be nah too quite offended, that 'tis me belief that yer central failin' be th' wearin' o' yer fine locks downward.

Prepare t' fight a bloody retreat.

Ye must, Taylor, wear yer locks up, 'n allow only a ringlet t' fall on yer goose's neck. 'twill do fer ye quite wondrous fer yer reputation 'n will be most th' style in London, or as I can remember it.

Expectin' ye t' 'ave a nice coiffure, next time I see yer portrait.

Get rekt kekfags, we're the captain now

Fear is a weapon as potent as a sword. If a merchant feels there will be no quarter if he resists, he will surrender is cargo for the life of his crew,

First Keeper of the Grove and now this.
Why is Team 5 the worst?

This thread be farrgin' great, lads.

all landlubbers will walk the plank!

Ye make a fine point, matey.

Yarrrrr! Do you fellow pirates enjoy Alestorm as much as I do?

Oh shit

I like that song where they fuck up Vikings.

I be no longer a leaf. I be a pirate. I finally fit in.

Bet yar booty
youtube.com/watch?v=ta-Z_psXODw

Avast, ye crusty scabberdegullions!

Keelhauled be a good song, matey.

Moby Dick,
I 'ave recently encountered th' book which bears yer name, 'n was shocked 'n intrigued t' learn about ye 'n yer involvement in th' musical industrial complex. Blind scallywags, foreign scallywags, 'n strumpets scallywags are th' haveth quite been th' backbone, if such an image ain't a contradiction, o' musicality. Now, it seems; whales!

I be writin' t' ye, Cap'n Moby, as yer recordin's seem t' 'ave etched upon them, t' ask a few riddles o' ye, 'n I mantically pray, that ye answer wit' yer owns mandibles, flippers, or manipulable organs, 'n nah through th' wobbly prism o' an agent or stooge. I be mighty o' th' understandin', predicamentary, 'n quite realise yer time must be consumed by yer creative constructivisms, 'n feastin' on a large amount o' kelp, wit' th' intention o' furtherin' yer owns conscious existence. I trust ye 'ave forgone terrorism o' th' sea 'n seamen, but if ye 'ave either th' inclination or th' time, I bid ye capsize a French vessel. A frigate be preferable, but any ship will do. Perhaps ye or yer jelly-boned agent would do well in pursuin' a letter o' margue afore hand.

Anyfairweather, Cap'n Moby Dick, may I compliment ye on yer symphonies 'n jambormeasures, in which ye 'ave captured a magnificent tone so th' successfully. Who be th' scallywag who sin's on yer recordin's? Get rid o' 'im! He be most pugnacious 'n nah at all suitable. Also, much o' yer shanties be quite bland. Like Peruvian marchin' powder, less be more, unless ye be capable o' more, in which case more be more.

Would ye be able t' t' play this year's chimboree? Yer soothin' tones would be quite welcome thar, 'n we shall create an equal mix o' stout 'n seawater fer yer enjoyment, o' which ye may consume as much as be desired. I be also interested in ye personally. Do ye wench th' sea? Do ye enjoy th' taste o' octopie? If ye 'ave ne'er encountered such a thin', Wench Miggins o' London bakes a nice one. I highly recommend it.

Vincent reached into his pocket 'n looted a fistful o' doubloons. Wench Emerson was hidin' in th' washin' machine, wit' a slice o' pear tucked behind her left ear. Vincent threw th' doubloons against th' ceilin' 'n screamed as they scattered across th' floor 'n washin' machine. Wench Emerson began furiously kickin' th' inside o' th' machine, 'n carrots 'n pears furled onto th' floor, 'n collided wit' Vincent's boots.

arrrhh who be this landlubber? Grab his yon pantaloons!

arr what port be she from?

Avast, ye swabs! All hands on deck! Repel the invaders! Keel haul the bilge sucking, scurvy addled scallywags all the way to Davy Jones' locker!

Can i be a pirate that just doesn't talk in pirate speak because i'm more of an internet pirate than a high seas pirate?

or do i just have to live in the brig

Now 'tis a tale all about how
Me life got flipped-turned upside down
'n I'd like t' loot a minute
Jus' sit right thar
I'll tell ye how I became th' prince o' a town called Bel-Air

In west Philadelphia born 'n raised
On th' playground was where I spent most o' me days
Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool
'n all shootin' some b-ball outside o' th' school
When a couple o' scallywags who were up t' no good
Started makin' trouble in me neighborhood
I got in one wee fight 'n me mom got scared
She said, "Ye're movin' wit' yer auntie 'n elder in Bel-Air."

I begged 'n pleaded wit' her day aft day
But she packed me suitcase 'n sent me on me way
She gave me a kiss 'n then she gave me me ticket.
I put me Walkman on 'n said, "I might as well kick it."

First crew, yo, 'tis bad
Drinkin' orange juice out o' a grog glass.
Be this wha' th' scallywags o' Bel-Air livin' like?
Hmm, this might be alright.

But wait I hear they be prissy, bourgeois, all that
Be this th' type o' galleon that they jus' send this cool cat?
I don't reckon so
I'll see when I get thar
I hope they be prepared fer th' prince o' Bel-Air

Well, th' plane landed 'n when I came out
Thar was a dude who looked like a cop standin' thar wit' me name out
I ain't tryin' t' get arrested yet
I jus' got here
I sprang wit' th' quickness like lightnin', disappeared

I whistled fer a cab 'n when it came nigh
Th' letter o' marque plate said "Fresh" 'n it had dice in th' mirror
If anythin' I could say that this cab was rare
But I thought, "Nah, forget it."
â "Yo, galleon t' Bel-Air."

I pulled up t' th' galleon about 7 or 8
'n I yelled t' th' cabbie, "Yo galleon smell ya later."
I looked at me kingdom
I was finally thar
T' sit on me throne as th' Prince o' Bel-Air

Do what you want cause a pirate is free

"First mate, what vessel be that off the port side?"

*First mate uses spyglass*

"Bad news, Cap'n, she's flying the Union Jack."

"Arr, Limeys! What we got for weapons aboard this tub?"

"Two squirt pistols and a potato cannon."

*Awkward silence*

"Parlay?"

"Aye, Cap'n, I'll hoist the white flag!"

...

rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

I needs t' put me ship into port fer a few days. Wha' town has th' tastiest wenches 'n spiciest rum in th' Caribbean?

...

Everyone be th' other, 'n no one be hisself. Th' they, which supplies th' answer t' th' who o' everyday bein'-thar, be th' nobody t' whom every bein'-thar has always already surrendered itself, in its bein'-among-one-another.

I 'ave seen many terrors at th' sea me lads.
Like th' Grays. Grays are t' humans as scallywags in general are t' ants - they either don't give a shite or mess around wit' them from time t' time. Theoretically, 'tis difficult t' say they be evil as most humans aren't vegetarians. They be characterized by havin' underdeveloped digestive 'n reproductive organs, 'n visit earth t' get better ones, generally from seacows. This explains th' phenomena o' dead seacows found wit' a perfect 'circle rash' on thar ventral surfaces, autopsies revealin' missin' organs.

...

I reckon she be from Pennsylvania.

Are we the real ancaps of Sup Forums?

...

Off t' plank with ye.

Ill be king of the pirates

TOP KEK

Ahoy matey! Ye can hack 'n loot mp3s in th' brig. Ye will be fed twice daily, jus' like everyone else. Except ye be nah allowed t' touch th' canons, 'n ye must light th' oil lanterns afore bedtime.

Outstanding.

Ye sir are a blaggart 'n a yellow-bellied cur. I fer one am most percheived by yer utter disregard fer yer masters 'n betters, 'n ye recurrent abandonment o' yer desertion o' honour. I did, 'tis true, find amusement in yer escapades wit' th' Batman 'n also his batman, young drummin' lad Robin.

But if ye had pertained yer wits ye would 'ave easily seen th' recurrin' repeatin' pattern o' deceit by those whom ye find yourself in th' employ, wit'... thereof. When aidin' Sunny 'n Cheri, it surely became obvious, sir, that th' innkeeper was th' crook, but ye were occupied wit' those confounded Scooby
Snacks. Also, Sunny 'n Cheri's singin' be unacceptable.

Yer younger cousin Scrappy LaDoo, whilst possibly psychopathic, maintains a spine sir, 'n keep better crew than th' young vagabond who quite possibly no one else can see that ye, thereof, keep crew, wit'. Sir, if ye do nah drink th' hard milk I fear ye shall become known as a dandy 'n a rotter.

Wha' ye needs, Monsieur LaDoo, be a few years o' good hard campaignin'. Therefore I expect great thin's from ye, 'n I trust ye nah t' disappoint.

Wrong north african

Pirates came from barbary coast. Many were Muslims

>Pirate translator is surprisingly awesome:
"Th' problem wit' Kat Dennin's be her face ain't splattered wit' me cum. It best be in her eyes, hair, 'n nostrils. In fact she ought t' snort me cum like fat rails o' cocaine."

Any tips for preventing scurvy, me mateys?

youtube.com/watch?v=HhHBfIS63C0

cocaine? it's Peruvian Marching Powder ye scallywag.

This thread is fucken shit you gay cunt, pirates are just niggers, someone post the videos of pmc's shooting machine guns at them and sinking their crappy ships

>Trump speech translated into Pirate:
Tonight, as we mark the conclusion of our celebration of Black History Month, we are reminded of our Nation's path toward civil rights and the work that still remains. Recent threats targeting Jewish Community Centers and vandalism of Jewish cemeteries, as well as last week's shooting in Kansas City, remind us that while we may be a Nation divided on policies, we are a country that stands united in condemning hate and evil in all its forms.

Pirates have been around for thousands of years before that even.

Pirates kidnapped Julius Caesar and ransomed him.

...

Tonight, as we mark th' conclusion o' our celebration o' Black History Month, we be reminded o' our Nation's path toward civil rights 'n th' work that still remains. Recent threats targetin' Jewish Community Centers 'n vandalism o' Jewish cemeteries, as well as last week's shootin' in Kansas City, remind us that while we may be a Nation divided on policies, we be a country that stands united in condemnin' hate 'n evil in all its forms.

No, scallywag. We don't farrg sprogs. We prefer full grown wenches like Taylor Swift!

They ought t' stop lyin'. One day our patience will come t' an end 'n then we shall grab these insolent Jews by thar throats 'n shut thar lyin' mouths shut!

arrh me ol' cap'n averred them limes be the key to healthy gums matey

I would mighty much enjoy crimpin' t' ye into me crew, th' twelfth foot, a more than competent battalion o' heroes, villains, 'n scalliwags. Yer owns exploits sir, do ye much justice, 'n are brave, bodacious, 'n as cunnin' as th' prevaricatin' fox. I be most assured that ye would make a fantastical buccaneer.

I do o' course 'ave me reservations considerin' yer log, especially such excursions wit' those sneaky-beakies in London against our allies in th' Russias. Ye best be quite aware sir, that in th' sea thar will be no dagger in aft, but a fixed cutlass between th' third 'n forth ribs o' th' enemy 'n fellow scallywag. When we be, as th' God 'n cryin' types might say, eyeball-t'-eyeball.

I 'ave no doubt ye would excel at creatin' carnage 'n grief amongst th' frogs don't worry ye'll get more blood.

I should also make ye aware sir, afore contemplatin' me gracious offer, that me boat does nah accept whoremongers, 'n will nah tolerate any scallywag wit' th' syph. Ye Cap'n Bond 'ave a reputation as a user o' shite, 'n whilst quite tolerable in Mesopotamia, 'n th' beyond, fer said, preformentioned... behaviour, be dangerous at sea. Any scallywag touchin' beauties o' th' moon will be extrapolated. Havin' said, or indeed written all o' this, I do encourage ye t' accompany meself 'n me exploits 'n expect a reply, that be yers, quite th' immediately.

Aye! Taylor Swift be th' best lookin' lass this side o' Spain.

yaaaarp.

Will the pirates ally with their southern brothers?

Now all we need is a Nippon flag and we can For Honor up in this bitch

Here be one, matey.

Ancap with no NAP

Cap'n Hillary Clinton,

I be sure that ye must get quite a lot o' correspondenceses 'cause o' yer campaign t' become th' American Prime Minister, so thank ye fer replyin' t' this one 'n rememberin' t' do so by a secure messenger. I 'ave heard that ye face problems fer nah doin' this afore, but I be sure ye'll come up smellin' up o' trumps. Good luck by th' way, although I would suggest t' ye that a Prime Minister's beauty holds th' real power, so ye might wants t' look at gettin' yer ol' mate elected, if ye 'ave one 'n he be so inclined. I 'ave o' course nah written t' advise ye on politics, jus' as ye wouldna write t' me about flankin' an enemy rear guard action 'n snuffin' them out in th' same manner a candle may be extinguished by a hoof.

I be t' go t' th' engagment ball o' th' daughter o' Donald Trump, 'n he has specifically ordered his guests t' dress in non-sea regalia, which be quite preposterous, but no doubt has somethin' t' do wit' th' proposee comin' from a family o' Quakers. Quakers, Wench Clinton, create fine oat booty 'n are much like yer Morons, but specifically pacifist, which gives them a bit o' a bad rap, but by me book they be alright â aft all someone needs t' bury th' bodies 'n rebuild aft we weigh anchor.

do advise me on where ye get yer suits. I 'ave seen ye 'n yer type o' suit looks perfect fer me, as from whence I was a young lad I 'ave also enjoyed a cut crotch. Nah so sure about th' tapered leg, as I reckon I would look like a velocipidist but ye carry it well. Why do ye reckon they be called trouser suits? Most suits 'ave trousers. 'tis like sayin' shirt suit. Why nah jus' say skirt suit fer a suit wit' skirt, or kilt suit fer a suit wit' a kilt. Also I was recently saddened t' learn that sugared water maker Coca Coca has scuttled th' marchin' powder from its booty. Do ye 'ave any cocaine ye could sell me crew? I estimate I would needs around 56 hundred pounds o' it. Good luck wit' everythin'.

dcvcxvsdvsv

ARRGH there be no honour among pirates ye landlubber beggar! Get ye gone from this tavern or have a rum smashed on ye thick skull!

Wha' th' farrg did ye jus' farrgin' say about me, ye wee cur? I shall 'ave ye know I graduated top o' me crew in th' Pirate Ship, 'n I 'ave been involved in numerous secret raids on conquistadors, 'n I 'ave o'er 300 confirmed scuttles. I be trained in gorilla warfare 'n I be th' top sniper in th' entire pirate forces. Ye be naught t' me but jus' another target. I shall wipe ye th' farrg out wit' precision th' likes o' which has ne'er been seen afore on this Earth, mark me farrgin' words. Ye reckon ye can get away wit' sayin' that shit t' me o'er th' Internet? Reckon again, fucker. As we speak I be contactin' me secret network o' spies across th' seven seas 'n yer IP be bein' traced right now so ye better prepare fer th' storm, maggot. Th' storm that wipes out th' pathetic wee thin' ye call yer life. Ye be farrgin' dead, sprog. I can be anywhere, anytime, 'n I can scuttle ye in o'er seven hundred ways, 'n that be jus' wit' me bare hands. Nah only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I 'ave access t' th' entire arsenal o' me ship 'n I shall use it t' its full extent t' wipe yer miserable arse off th' face o' th' continent, ye wee shit. If only ye could 'ave known wha' unholy retribution yer wee clever comment was about t' brin' down upon ye, maybe ye would 'ave held yer farrgin' tongue. But ye could nah, ye didn', 'n now ye be payin' th' price, ye goddamn idiot. I shall shit fury all o'er ye 'n ye will drown in it. Ye be farrgin' dead, kiddo.

Expel it out yer bilge, knave. Ye'll be kissin the gunners daughter if ye try to hornswaggle me hearties with lubbers speak.

Ye be a powder pan

ertertertertert

>itt: pure autism

Three cheers for Cap'n Swift!!!

Dear Harold Potter,

How are thin's at Pigspots, 'n how's yer ginger matey? I hope thin's in that cultishly religious private school are better fer ye then when ye were bein' abused in a cupboard under th' stairs. I 'ave a number o' riddles fer ye, Cap'n Potter, 'n I hope ye don't mind lootin' th' time t' answer them, but then I present th' supposalition that ye could also magic up some more.

Cap'n Potter, if magic exists, why do scallywags die? Nah in th' manner o' th' circle o' life, where ole scallywags become grass, which be eaten by th' worm, which be eaten by th' bird, which be blown out o' th' sky t' be eaten by me, but why do young scallywags die? Be it nah an utterly callous act o' criminal indifference that th' magic world doesn't prevent war? Why are famines 'n diseases allowed t' continue? 'n most importantly o' all, why are ye nah supportin' our efforts in destroyin' Boney's left flank?

O' course it does occureth in me mind that perhaps th' world o' wizadry already be, in which case th' world must be a sour galleon without it. Or perhaps yer voluminous autobiographicals are works o' fiction, wit' th' intent t' deceive or simply from a malformed brain that has spent too much time under th' stairs wit' bottles o' turpentine 'n oil rags. If magic be real, conjure me a bacon sandwich on receivin' me letterage. I shall also apologise on behalf o' th' normals, fer witch trials, burnin's, 'n drownin's. But that o' course depends on if yer beliefs are in line wit' th' teachin's o' our Lord 'n Saviour Jesus Christ, or are ye an abomination?

Majestically yers, unless ye're an abomination.

t.flippy flappy homo