From the journals of Cap'n Jonas Porksword
Tenth, March in the Year of our Lord, Two-Thousand and Ten:

Truly, it is a wonder that thy good Cap'n can not get some people to respond to him via carrier pigeon, messages in bottles, or e'en these newfangled iPhonic devices.

And others will reveal their most intimate secrets to him as though the Cap'n Porksword, the Moste Hornye Pirate docked in San Diego was their very own psychiatriste.

The lad who perved upon me in the gymnasium shower hath not returned my electronic mailings or cellular calles. Yet, tonight in ye olde adult emporium that the Cap'n sometimes mercenaries for when pyrating is slim, a lad wanted me to explain him how he might become a better bottom.

He then went on in a quite direct and detailed diatribe of how his ex-matelot didst harbor anal plugs in his buttocks daily.

Had I been in a more sarcastic frame of mind, I might have said, "Wait ye by the phone for calls that never get returned."

But I didn't. I retreated to the crow's nest to sulk some more.


Sea Chanty of the Day:

Shes got the love monkey riding on her back
We all need the human touch

- Sir Rick of Springfield