Celebrating Talk Like A Pirate Day, Me Hearties!

Well, me goodness. (Weigh anchor!) Another year has gone by, 'n once again it be time t' celebrate the greatest o' all annual holidays: Talk Like A Pirate Day. I'll make it easy for ye t' talk like a scallywag yerself: ye got yer ol' Pirate Translator, a bleedin' Pirate Name Generator - Arggh! - and fer ye stinkin' landlubbers, a Swashbucklin' Quiz. Throw yer seaman overboard!

It seems fittin' I come back after a relatively lengthy break, havin' pooped meself out with me lover's visit, travellin' t' Northern California (I have pictures!), gettin' denied group insurance for long term disability, gettin' denied employment insurance from the government because supposedly I'm disabled long term, contrary t' the insurance company's assertions that I'm not, 'n finally havin' nay choice, in order t' keep a roof over me head 'n food on me table, but t' go aft t' work for the Alien part-time while I scramble desperately t' find another job in order t' get the hell away from the guy. (Aaaarrrhhh!!!) Immediately upon enterin' that hell hole o' an office, I contracted a nasty snot-drippin' lung-upchuckin' cold. (Weigh anchor!) Needless t' say, I've been busy.

I've also been busy tryin' t' get a writin' job so that I may finally avast workin' at wipin' the asses o' senior management types who can't possibly tie their shoelaces because it's beneath their professional position. (Dead men tell no tales.) I have nay experience, nay education, a nasty, surly demeanor, 'n an intense dislike o' sharin' me space with anythin' breathin'. (Bloody landlubber!) I think I would make a great columnist, don't ye? (The chase is making full sail, matey!) Yet nay one seems interested. (AAARRGGHHH!) I have nay idea why. (Shiver me timbers!) I'm sure it has nothin' t' do with addressin' the editorial staff as "dear fuckheads" in me query letter.

Me enthusiasm for jobhuntin' be somewhat muted, unfortunately, because as be typical o' Edmonton, the moment September 1 rolled 'round, some pissy deity flipped a switch 'n declared, "It be autumn!" Subsequently, we have had nothin' but cold, dark, cloudy, rainy skies for 3 straight fuckin' weeks. (Bloody privateers!) Not only that, but the time we actually have sunlight has shortened t' 'bout, oh, 3 minutes a day. (Aye, me hearties!) Who the hell wants t' get out o' bed when they have that t' look fore t', especially when they know they're wakin' up in Edmonton? (Gangway!) 'n health officials wonder why suicide rates be so high here. (Be ye ready to walk the plank?) Oh, I don't know, might have somethin' t' do with the intense desire t' gouge yer deadlights out with #6 knittin' needles when ye look out the window in the mornin'. (Bloody landlubber!) Just a hunch.

Other than that, I'm just fine.


make idle gossip (8 comments so far)

come hither - back off

Last 5 entries:
01.14.2007:Finally, a support group we can all get behind
01.09.2007:The City That Ever Reeks
01.08.2007:Waiter, there's a uterus in my soup
01.03.2007:Long Lost Mummy of Nefertiti Found in Smoog's Apartment
12.30.2006:New Year's resolutions we can actually keep

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