Position Wanted: Pirate

I searched my local help wanteds, monster.com and craigslist and found no listings. If anyone reads this and knows of a pirate position, please post it. I am a good cook--quick with a knife, I know starboard from larboard and more knots than I need to know, and I don't get sea-sick. I know pirates sea crooks, but maybe I'd help improve the overall rep. In any case, the romance of it appeals to me.

Can I Convince You To Vote, and if so, For Kerry?

I don't know why, but evidently over one hundred people will read this here little blog entry (even though I only started this blog as a way for me to post a comment on Mrs. Blubridge's site).

That said, if any among you are considering not voting, I want to talk to you. I'll try to convince you to hit the polls. I may attempt to throw perks your way (chocolate chip cookies, mainly).

If you are thinking of voting for Bush, let's talk about that too. Just give me the chance to reason with you (again, there could be cookies in it for you)--and I in turn will give you the chance to reason with me.

Thank you for your consideration.

TC

Adventure: Attempt #1

I was going to buy the Sunday New York Times and spend the day with it. That was my plan. I wasn't put off so much by the price ($5--I'd expected 4) as that I would have had to put 25 quarters into the machine. You know how store owners hate it when you ask them to break a dollar. I had all of 2 quarters. I did not have the courage necessary to get the additonal 23. So I decided to expend some courage. I randomly rented an electric car. The scary part: it looked not much safer than a lunchpail on wheels. Inside, however, it felt quite sturdy. I was surprisingly high off the road. It had a/c and a stereo and plush seats. Top speed: 53 mph. Range: 67 miles. It made no noise (at least compared to a regular car). I drove 37 miles, then a pirate boarded it. Taking a liking to me (good thing I'd done Talk Like A Pirate), we drove to a silvery sand beach he knew about and, in one another's arms, drank rum and watched the sun slide down the horizon.

Actually, I made up everything after driving 37 miles--believe it or not. Even so, it was relatively adventurous for sedate me. If I increase my adventurousness at this rate each week, I will be shark wrestling in Tortola by year's end. Professionally.

The Adventuress

I live deep within a grid in a suburb that could be anywhere. Everyday I get up, having slept too little, change the cat litter and try to endure it until the caffeine kicks in, then go off to a desk where at the end of the day I have little more to show than gnashed cuticles.

What is preventing me from boarding a tramp steamer bound to ports unknown, answering one of those ads in the back of one of those magazines for one of those French Foreign Legion type jobs?

Why do I spend three or four hours per week on eBay looking for things I know will end up sucking when I could learn sailing or scuba diving or kung fu?

Why when I know how time goes, that you look at a calendar one day and it's January and the next it seems it's November, don't I plan my adventure. The adventure categories dwindle when you need a walker, and the pages of the calendar are flying by.

Well, maybe I will get on this this week. Anybody with any adventure suggestions, I'm all eyes.

Otherwise, I'll see your antique dresser on eBay.

Call Me Trish-mael

I am enjoying Gus Openshaw's Whale-Killing Journal (blubberybastard.tripod.com/blog/) and Mrs. Blubridge's Grog Shoppe (blubridge.blogspot.com/) and in order to post a comment on the latter, found myself filling out form after free (hopefully) form the result of which is what you are reading now. Have a pleasant, whale-attack free day.