Arrr welcome aft me hearties. I hope ye be enjoyin' me blog so far. Anywho I gots another tale t' tell ye. 't all started when I be mindin' me own business in th' tavern when who comes through th' door but Tim th' arse. (we calls th' lad's this cos 't be a nicer way t' describe his appearance) So he plods down an' parks his behind next t' me an' greets me. "Mornin` Sex, how`s yer day been?" I reply truthfully. "Canny shit r on account o' a lousy gull taken a shite on me hade this early morni`, i gots 't good an' proper wi' me trusty pistol tho. Arrr" He buys me a jolly rogergon or two, or six on accounts o' me powers o' persuassion. All I can reckon be me an' th' lad's staggerin' aft t' th' inn singin' songs o' th' high sea when he goes an' be`s sea sick on me. Now I likes t' think me`self o' quite a gentleman, so I orders th' lad's t' lick me boats then blows his hade off. Arrr.

Well here be one o' me first tall tales. 't all started on a starry night when th' moon be at th' lass' peak an' th' moonlight shone down onto th' deck o' me ship, th' nekked scumbag. T`be an eerie sight t' be seein', I well had th' heebie jeebies. An' then all o' a sudden I hears a wailin' noise an' I looks behind me t' find a spectral apparition standin', either that or I`d had too much grog. Me oh me `tis be th' old landlady o' th' black dog; one o' th' old time pubs at th' docks. Th' lass' face be as pale as a sail an' when I looks at th' lass' she bellows at me. Well most ghosts be evil so I swipes at th' lass' wi' me trusty cutlass. I strikes th' lass' an' I strikes th' lass' an' one bountiful kick I knocks th' lass' off me ship. Arrr th' rag scallion I be havin' nay wenches on me ship I says t' me crew. An' that be that, then I sailed' an' got me another flaggon of ale an' collapsed in exhaustion as another long day ended.