Separate names with a comma.
Discussion in 'General Discussion' started by Cujo, Sep 18, 2007.
its international talk like a pirate day (Wed 19.09.07)
Yarr, I get ye ol' rotten peg legged scallywag. Now, does
any of ye land lubbers wanna piece o' me? I bet I could take
on that Tolub myself, I tell ye, and that good for nuffin'
Jack Sparrow as well, yarrr!
Was that pirate enough, matey?
It's tuesday here. :]
Its not our fault you are still living in the past.
Ahoy me maties, lets go a swashbucklin on the high seas. Lets see if we can find ourselves some loot and some wenches. Any you lilly livered, scurvy dogs, don't feel up to it, we will keelhaul to see if that helps change your mind.
Avast, ye lubbers! Wot's all this 'ere makin' sport o' the way we talks? Why, I'll run ye through with a rusty boathook, and hang ye from the yardarm. Ye'll not feel so clever, swingin' in the breeze and cryin' like a sucklin' babe wot's lost 'is mum!
Aargh! To Davey Jones with all o' ye!
Hey, the rest of the world is wierd. They don't exist in the same time line as us "normal" people.
hey if its going to be an arguement then NZ is the normal country everyone else is wrong
Here be a pirate translator, gar!
*spit* Yas nutin be ne ting mor dun a landluber, ya freaks.
Ye said it cap'm!
Yar, but ye walks upside down. That ain't normal by no man's terms.
yeah - so's your face
oh, thats harsh.
hey, I use that line all the time in RL, I'm suprised I havn't used it more here actually.
the pirate song
To the mast nail our flag it is dark as the grave,
Or the death which it bears while it sweeps o'er the wave;
Let our deck clear for action, our guns be prepared;
Be the boarding-axe sharpened, the scimetar bared:
Set the canisters ready, and then bring to me,
For the last of my duties, the powder-room key.
It shall never be lowered, the black flag we bear;
If the sea be denied us, we sweep through the air.
Unshared have we left our last victory's prey;
It is mine to divide it, and yours to obey:
There are shawls that might suit a sultana's white neck,
And pearls that are fair as the arms they will deck.
There are flasks which, unseal them, the air will disclose
Diametta's fair summers, the home of the rose.
I claim not a portion: I ask but as mine
'Tis to drink to our victory - one cup of red wine.
Some fight, 'tis for riches - some fight, 'tis for fame:
The first I despise, and the last is a name.
I fight, 'tis for vengeance! I love to see flow,
At the stroke of my sabre, the life of my foe.
I strike for the memory of long-vanished years;
I only shed blood where another shed tears,
I come, as the lightning comes red from above,
O'er the race that I loathe, to the battle I love.