Well, it’s been a year since I first published this post and once again the big day – Monday September 19th to be exact – is almost here! Charley’s #1 top of the chart Holiday – Talk Like a Pirate Day 2016.
So, I’m digging in to my treasure chest and posting this little jewel once again. I mean, how much more can one say about a day dedicated to walking around with a mug of tepid ale while gingerly scratching one’s nether regions with a hook and using an incredibly limited vocabulary to express the complex thoughts we know all pirates are harboring under those colorful bandanas? I think I’ve said it all and for that matter, I’ll probably use this post next year, too. Deja Vu!
Have a lovely week, everyone!
The Pirate Flag has been hoisted on its own petard out on our front porch for all to see. Actually, it’s been up all week (replacing my lovely “Welcome Fall” Flag) in anticipation of the big holiday. And here are some of the very special things we have to look forward to:
I will be referred to as “Wench” throughout the day. Needless to say, I won’t be answering when summoned.
“Booty” will be discussed whenever it can casually be inserted into a conversation. We won’t be casually conversing much today.
Every sentence will begin and end in Arrrrgh! Aarrrghhhh! AAAAARRRRRGGGHH! or some such form of Argh! Not a problem, because, as previously stated, we won’t be conversing much today.
Charley’s red convertible will become “The Jolly Roger’ for 24 interminable hours. He’ll drive around with the top down yelling, “Yo, Ho, Ho!” and “Avast Yee Maties!” to any hapless person in the near vicinity. I am praying for rain. Constant, heavy, pelting, torrential downpours all day long.
The neighbors will probably stop by, curious about the eye patch. They’ll ask if my husband has sustained an injury and I will assure them, “Not yet, but very soon.”
All purchases will be made with doubloons and pieces of eight. I will not be accompanying my husband on any shopping trips to Target, Walmart or Home Depot today. Past experience has taught me well that busy cashiers have just so much patience to dole out on their more eccentric customers (better know as “weirdos”) who hold up the lines at their registers insisting on paying with plastic replicas of antiquated foreign currency.
At the end of the day, over a hearty meal of some type of lumpy, greyish gruel (I would guess) we’ll raise our mugs of luke-warm ale in honor of Pirates and Wenches everywhere celebrating the grandest holiday of all, just like Charley and me out here in the woods of South County.
Or maybe not! AAAAARRRRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!