It be
a grand day for celebratin' and droppin' our "g"s, and
unlike last year, when we was escapin' foreign waters, Dreade Pirate Bruce the Bat and myself are in our home bay. The wee matey has bin enjoyin' some precious swag in the form of Marmite-flavoured breadsticks, fetched from across the dreade Atlantic waters by
this blog's favourite newly-wed couple. We be brandishin' said breadsticks while gnashin' our teeth and dippin' them in some soft-boiled eggs (it be hard to admit that dreade pirates like us like coddled egg brekkies).
Bruce also be growin' his own dreade pirate pet, booty given the wee matey by his friend Dreade Pirate Capitano Martino.
Tonight we be celebratin' alone, the wee bat and meself, with some gold-wrapped chocolate doubloons, some ill-gotten Guinness, an' some fine cinema.
2 comments:
Arrrrr!
I be tearing the breadsticks away fro' the scoundrel Bruce.
But have ye ever been a-tryin' Marmite flavoured *anything*, Dreade Pirate Phil? I have been a-findin' that those not born in the British Isles find that black spread most unpleasin' to their palates. Yarrr....
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