Avast! Heave to and check out these here wonderful carnivals:
Cheese Pyrates: Curse of the Black Cheddar
Part One — The Witch of Percé
Avast ye, lubbers and listen to me sad story, a supernatural tale of revenge, piracy and savage bowel obstructions.
The year were 2012, and I’d plumbed new depths in my quest to best the dread pyrate Capt’n Jacques LaBung.
He were the scurvy dog what kilt me father when I was a snip of a lad. LaBung had me Da executed fer some minor offense such as eatin’ the last of the brie. They strapped him to the wheel — a great stinky brown water-aged cheddar too infested with pollution to eat — and pushed him into the deep.
So, I’d been chasin’ LaBung and his Parmesan picaroons since I were old enough to go to sea. But LaBung and his ship, Le Fromage de Satan, had escaped me lo, these many years.
I’d lost an eye, me prospects and me youth in quest of me revenge. But finally, I’d hit on a way to achieve it — and not just on LaBung, but the whole crew of plugged-up sea-dogs. (The bilge rats were infamous for their cruelty, their love of Quebec water-aged cheddar, and their cripplin’ constipation.)
I’d heard tell of an old sea-witch who was on intimate terms with the Devil hisself, Ol’ Jack Sulfur; and you may not credit it, but Ol’ Jack knows something about yer Quebec water-aged cheddar — the favourite booty of LaBung and his filbustiers.
But Ol’ Jack’s water-aged cheddar turns not the gold of the Quebec Coast, but a deep ebony, darker than a Black Spot, and a sight tastier too, by the legend.
To taste but a sliver would cost a man his soul. And it were such I’d feed to LaBung and his hornswagglers.
The witch lived in a decrepit ol’ shack on the outskirts of Percé, and she greeted me at the door, as though she knew I was comin’. Probably got me email. Continue Reading →
Piracy 101
A tall, strong and heavily muscled man enters the lecture hall; his nut-brown face is marred by a saber cut across one cheek. It has left a dirty, livid white scar that practically glows out of his dark face. He’s unkempt, his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulders of his soiled blue coat and his hands ragged and scarred, with black, broken nails.
He staggers noticeably as he walks up to the lectern, lets out a loud, sustained belch and then sings a snatch of song, drunkenly.
Billy Bones:
Yo ho ho, and a bottle of rum …
He stops singing, and peers at the assembled class while he sways noticeably, his eyes are filled with an aimless, drunken, malice.
Billy Bones:
Ahoy mateys, and listen up, or I’ll be makin’ garters out of yer guts.
So ye think you’d like to go on account do ye? Become a Gentleman of Fortune?
We’ll, I’ll set you a straight course and tell you that the life of a pirate is no easy thing; mind ye, I’d have no other.
Teachin’ you feckless lubbers don’t compare with the freedom of the open seas, a black jack of rum in me hand, and a grand helpin’ of booty waitin’ at the end of the voyage. My name is Billy Bones, and I’ll be takin’ ye on a tour of yer basic piratical skills.
He unsheathes his cutlass, and slashes viciously at a rope holding up a projector screen. It unrolls, and clashes as the boom holding it rips away from the screen and hits the stage behind him.
Billy Bones:
Turn on the feckin’ projector will ye! Continue Reading →
Yar mateys, here be a week of pirates (and a brig full of links)
Yes, it’s the week of Talk Like a Pirate Day, and in honor of one of our favorite (and most meaningless) celebrations, we’ve got some piratical activity planned fer the good ship Skwib.
On Monday Professor Billy Bones will be handing out the syllabus for the freshmen class at Pirate University; on Tuesday, we have yer boco-neer fiction planned; and on Wednesday, a very special edition of Ask General Kang. Thursday is the Carnival of Piratical Satire, and on Friday, we’ll, let’s just say that yer average skwab don’t think that far ahead.
And for now, here are a few more carnies whose poop decks we’ve darkened, and some pirate-related posts to slake yer bloody appetites:
A fine Sunday Carnival of the Godless: not that all pirates are atheists, but there is grand swath of godless in the crew.
The Friday Ark, where we thought about poor old Capt’n Hook when we saw the link to a Jurassic Neverneverland .
The History Carnival, where you can see a scary skull and crossbones and read about yer worst curse of the pirate — the plague (okay, the worst after running out of grog).
Carnival of the Mundane, where you will find a posting that is about as anti-pirate as you can imagine. If a pirate has sore feet, we just cut them off and replace them furniture. Arrrrrrr!!
Overheard in Queensland
“G’day, Bruce. How’s it goin’?”
“Good as gold Trevor, good as gold.”
“So, you heard they got that old bastard?”
“Who?”
“The Crocodile Hunter.”
“Bloody hell? Was it Frank? Frank gets as mad as a cut snake whenever that bloke is around.”
“Naw, it was out on the reef.”
“Really? Not another croc?”
“It was some fruity fish!”
“Rubbish!”
“A stingray.”
“Strewth!”
“And you know what I’ve heard, Bruce? The other pink-leggies have started killing ’em.”
“The stingrays?”
“That old bastard would never have stood for, it you know, Bruce. He was a cobber. A friend to us all.”
“You know I almost got him and his ankle biter, once? Did I tell you that story, Trevor?”
“Only about a thousand times. Still, makes you think, don’t it?”
“What?”
“Well, if you or Frank had your way the pink-leggies would be coming after us.”
“Strewth!” [the water near Bruce’s tail burbles]
“Did you just open your lunch?”
“Sorry. I never thought of that bastard as helping us.”
“No worries, not yet anyway.”
Inspired by:
Norm MacDonald on the Daily Show (9/14/06). Photo by maggie p au
The Carnival of Satire (#46)
Welcome to The Carnival of Satire, where bloggers vent their finely crafted irony and satire. Okay, sometimes it is bluntly crafted, but not this week! We hope you enjoy the genius of these posts as much as we did:
Do you lack social skills? Then Garrett O’Hara’s entertaining audio presentation about Facebook (Where Everybody Knows Your Name!) may help.
And if you’re a CAT with no social skills, then you definitely want check out this warning: Cats on Myspace May be Humans in Disguise, coughed up by Callas at Catnabbit!.
And while we’re on the topic of social skills … you know, you just don’t see the phrase, “Scoops and swells your mammary glands” enough in popular culture. Madeleine Begun Kane is changing that with The Wonderbra Song .
Damian G. at Conservathink has a bloody brilliant investigation into how controversial sex signs can stymie limeys. Pip, pip!
Tommy has learned that Microsoft plans to Replace Vista With A Deck Of Cards. In theory that should reduce the development time. In theory.
Vox Poplar has a few minutes with Andy Rooney…. The opening of this piece is reminiscent of one of our favorite scenes in Catch-22.
Ahistoricality has also, um, unearthed: Why Mormons Don’t Eat Pancakes, or How the North Won the Civil War. We may have to reference this post at Banana Slug when we hit “revisionism” in the Devil’s Dictionary.
The Hippo at Hippo Campy presents ‘BlaXploitation Revived in “Death of a President”
And to take us out on a contemplative note, Madeleine Begun Kane gets all Zen on us with The Rumsfeld Trap, a Political Haiku.
Thanks to Kansir for the mouse photo and to everyone else for the great satire! Really guys, keep it coming!
The weekly schedule is back now (and the 4 pm deadline). Submit via this handy form, or or here; the COS is listed at the Ubercarnival, and at the Blog Carnival too.