TLC Final Push
Posted on September 19, 2006 Posted by John Scalzi 87 Comments
It’s begun. No more updates here until it’s over. Hopefully not more than a day. Talk amongst yourselves until then.
Whatever
FURIOUSLY REASONABLE
WHATEVER
Taunting the tauntable since 1998
John Scalzi, proprietor – JS
Athena Scalzi, contributor – AMS
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Earlier tonight, I finished David Drake’s “Some Golden Harbor” (latest in Lt. Leary series), good,but maybe not as good as earlier entries.
The point is that finishing that one brought “The Ghost Brigades” to top of the pile. I’m up to page 54 and I really, really, REALLY want a BrainPal. But where will I get that? I don’t even have a freaking flying car yet.
So, anyway, Scalzi suggests we talk among ourselves. May I suggest mutiny? We could discuss macrame. Possibly our obsesion with snow globes?
The point is that I’d be asleep right now if I hadn’t started TGB. I’m awake now and it’s Scalzi’s fault.
DAMN YOU SCALZI!!!!
(This is going to be a recurring theme in my posts ’cause I like blaming others and I like typing DAMN YOU SCALZI!!!)
I pre-ordered the “You’re Not Fooling Anyone When You Take Your Laptop to a Coffee Shop: Scalzi on Writing” on April 25, 2006. Am I the only one who has to wait until February for it’s push-backed release? Darn. Oh well, make that a “whatever.”
Arrr! It be National Talk Like a Pirate Day, so mutiny be soundin’ good t’ me.
OK, so whats the over/under on when John makes his next post?
I say 2pm EST.
My money be on 3 pm EST, and a mention of bacon. Arrrr!
Avast maties, I says noon is when that scurvy dog be makin his appearance.
Yar, that rum swab is marooned, certain as Davy Jones’ locker. If he ain’t, I fear the Commodore Pat’ll have him at rope’s end by sundown.
And Nathan, me bucko … two words, lad: Jane Austen. It’s for the good o’ your blood pressure is all I’m sayin.’
Yar, that rum swab is marooned, certain as Davy Jones’ locker. If he ain’t, I fear the Commodore Pat’ll have him at rope’s end by sundown.
And Nathan, me bucko … two words, lad: Jane Austen. It’s for the good o’ your blood pressure is all I’m sayin.’
Aye, Jeff. He’s high o’ the breakers and naught being off until the tides change. There be a lot o’ sails flappin in the breeze, but naught a knot of movement.
As of the fair maid Austin, what a prideful wench is she, but I may be prejudice. But her three sisters, aye, they be full of love and friendship.
Avast Squinty
“As Sir George and Lady Harcourt were superintending the Labours of their Haymakers, rewarding the industry of some by smiles of approbation, & punishing the idleness of others by a cudgel, they perceived lying closely concealed beneath the thick foliage of a Haycock, a beautifull little Girl not more than 3 months old”.
I percieve a total lack of pirates, BrainPals and flying cars.
Do you really think he’ll be able to hold out until noon? Since when has Scalzi not posted half a dozen times after saying he would be incommunicado all day? I’m thinking no later than 10AM…
Oh yeah, ARRRR!!!
Hmmm. “The Pirates of Scalzi.” I hear an operetta coming on….
Ye just knows that that scurvy landlubber be checkin this board every few minutes, just itchin’ to walk the plank and join this piratey discussion.
Arr.
I say he’ll be talkin’ ’bout Willie Nelson marijuana bust or the Hungarian MP by ’bout high noon. ‘Tis time I fixed meself some pirate tea.
Chang, ye scaliwag. Pirate tea not be appropriate for this day. Ye should be quaffing grog.
Arr, I be bored at work.
Nathan: Ye perceive aright, lad, but don’t ye feel better yer not cursin’ the very swell? And ye’ll sleep tight in yer berth, after reading that jabber by lantern, that’s sure. Leave off the TGB for light o’ day.
Ann: Is it chanteys ye want? Then follow on, me beauty:
Oh, we sailed off ‘fore dawn on the good ship “Whatever”…
Nathan: Ye perceive aright, lad, but don’t ye feel better yer not cursin’ the very swell? And ye’ll sleep tight in yer berth, after reading that jabber by lantern, that’s sure. Leave off the TGB for light o’ day.
Ann: Is it chanteys ye want? Then follow on, me beauty:
Oh, we sailed off ‘fore dawn on the good ship “Whatever”…
Belike the dread Cap’n Krissy marooned the scurvy dog on a desert isle til he be done w’ his writin’. Bet ye that nervy wench be crackin’ his head ere long.
Belike the dread Cap’n Krissy marooned the scurvy dog on a desert isle til he be done w’ his writin’. Bet ye that nervy wench be crackin’ his head ere long.
Grog Tea!
Oh, what do you do with a drunken sailor…
Aye! The rum-soaked bucket o’ chum be holed up in Ohio like a lubber far from the briny. I say mutiny! Yarr…
The highest the sun be, and bit some more. Arrgh, how doest ye say 12:30 like a scurriless knave?
Arrrrrgh………Uh, that’s all I got.
Sorry
11:42 a.m.
Arrrrrgh………Uh, that’s all I got.
Sorry
11:42 a.m.
Argh, the lubber be keepin his mangey head low. He must be below decks. I hears a clatterin sound, not of cutlasses, but like nail clippers. Ways too fast fer dem nails to stand a chance.
We’d make him walk the plank, only there’s only a sea o’ grass below and slugs aren’t the same as sharks.
men, men, men, it’s a ship all filled with men. It’s HMS not PMS, a ship all filled with men.
Avast!
He is the very model of a modern science fictional,
He’s got information vegetable, animal, and baconal,
He knows things of the heartland, and he writes the fights drunkenal
From Athena to Krissy, too, in order quite hysterical;
He’s very well acquainted, too, with matters so semantical,
He understands evasions, both the simple and the comical,
In a bloggy delir’um he’s teeming with a lot o’ news –
With many cheerful facts about the cat while grappling with his muse
Aye. An hour past the mast, I’ll wager, ‘fore he swaggers from his cabin.
A doft of the cap to ye, Mark DF. My grog spewd forth upon readin’ that fine piece o’ eight you go there. “Grappling with the Muse” indeedy.
A doft of the cap to ye, Mark DF. My grog spewd forth upon readin’ that fine piece o’ eight you go there. “Grappling with the Muse” indeedy.
Today is my birthday. Number 39 boo. I plan to celebrate by eating large amounts of blue berry pie. Thoughts on pie vs cake on your birthday?
Ye birthday falls on Talk Like A Pirate Day? Aye, ye be truely blessed by Davy Jones himself. Do not concern yeself with pies or cake. Ye should be rounding up wenches, quaffing ale, and singing shanties with ye crew! For sustenance, ye might partake in some mutton and limes. It prevents the scurvy!
Argh, 39 is but still a spry lad, Jimmy me boy. And pie. Aye, pie, so much better than cake. As I was told as a wee water sprite on the peg-knee of me mudder, “ya canna have yer cake and eat it too.” So what good is cake. But pie, aye, pie, so much better,
Argh, 39 is but still a spry lad, Jimmy me boy. And pie. Aye, pie, so much better than cake. As I was told as a wee water sprite on the peg-knee of me mudder, “ya canna have yer cake and eat it too.” So what good is cake. But pie, aye, pie, so much better,
Arrrr…If ye thinks 39 be ‘orrible, ye’ll wants te dispense w’ gettin’ te 40. If that’s y’er goal, have the spinach pie.
Arrrr…If ye thinks 39 be ‘orrible, ye’ll wants te dispense w’ gettin’ te 40. If that’s y’er goal, have the spinach pie.
Hmm, Spinach Pie. I be feeling the affects of a plush elder god in the under tow. There be stirrings in the deep.
Hmm, Spinach Pie. I be feeling the affects of a plush elder god in the under tow. There be stirrings in the deep.
Aye, matey! Cap’n sez extra tot o’ rum for the laddie Mark. No doubt he’s a fine voice to go with those exceptional lyrics. Three cheers for the poet!
Argh! I’ll be wagering we’ll see the scurvey scoundral at Four Bells at the afternoon watch. He’ll need to escape the poop deck, though – Argh!
Well, I didn’t suggest that HE eat the spinach pie!
Sheeeeeez.
Well, I didn’t suggest that HE eat the spinach pie!
Sheeeeeez.
Arr, ’tis me again. just taught a yoga class entirely in the pirate voice. ‘Twas good. They did fill their sails with breath. And I did make them sweat sumthin’fierce. Arrr…
Arr, ’tis me again. just taught a yoga class entirely in the pirate voice. ‘Twas good. They did fill their sails with breath. And I did make them sweat sumthin’fierce. Arrr…
You gotta think that pirates ate Key Lime Pie.
For the scurvy, ye know.
So is it:
1) a pirate poet
2) a poet pirate
3) a poetical pirate
4) a pie radical poet
5) a pie rating poet?
“He who would pun would pick a pocket.” Lucky thing, I’m not a ‘he’.
So is it:
1) a pirate poet,
2) a poet pirate,
3) a poetical pirate,
4) a pie radical poet, or
5) a pie rating poet?
“He who would pun would pick a pocket.” Lucky thing, I’m not a ‘he’.
Oops. Didn’t mean to post twice, got an error message. Sorry, folks.
Argh, it be noon and no smoke on the horizon. Me bet was bad I sees now. More grog tea!
Argh, it be noon and no smoke on the horizon. Me bet was bad I sees now. More grog tea!
Yar. I’m thinkin’ he’ll be waitin’ til this evenin’, just fer spite I say.
Now, I’m off to get my timbers shivered.
Yes, I think the more prudent course of action would be to forecast a return around 1pm.
(That’s modern corporate pirate speak, of course. Wears a three-piece suit, but has a tattoo of a heart with “M&A” written across it.)
Yarr… ’tis a mere bit before noon where we be plunderin’ the hot dog wagons on the surly banks of a village called Chicago. Cap’n John “Thunderplanks” Scalzi has himself a wee bit o’ time to drag his scurvy hide topside ‘fore we turn to mutiny.
Alas fer ye, Dan, tis after high noon on Scalzi’s ship by now.
Will ye be walkin’ the plank?
Alas fer ye, Dan, tis after high noon on Scalzi’s ship by now.
Will ye be walkin’ the plank?
Yer all screwy, I says.
Walking the plank?!? Nay! Ye be mad as a squid in the sun, wench. I be takin’ a cutlass through me heart or a cudgel to me brains ‘fore I take the walk on the plank. Yarr..
Walking the plank?!? Nay! Ye be mad as a squid in the sun, wench. I be takin’ a cutlass through me heart or a cudgel to me brains ‘fore I take the walk on the plank. Yarr..
KEEL-HAUL ‘im! Aye, for squiding up the place.
KEEL-HAUL ‘im! Aye, for squiding up the place.
Avast me hearties!
here be a song for Talk Like a Pirate Day from Arrogant Worms (http://www.arrogant-worms.com/index.php):
I used to be a farmer, and I made a living fine,
I had a little stretch of land along the CP line
But times were hard and though I tried, the money wasn’t there
And bankers came and took my land and told me “fair is fair”
I looked for every kind of job,
the answer always no
“Hire you now?” they’d always laugh,
“we just let twenty go!”
The government, they promised me
a measly little sum
But I’ve got too much pride to end up
just another bum.
Then I thought, who gives a damn
if all the jobs are gone?
I’m gonna be a PIRATE on
the river Saskatchewan!!!
Cause it’s a heave-ho, hi-ho,
comin’ down the plains
Stealin’ wheat and barley
and all the other grains
It’s a ho-hey, hi-hey
farmers bar yer doors
When ya see the Jolly Roger
on Regina’s mighty shores
see the whole thing here: http://artists.letssingit.com/arrogant-worms-lyrics-the-last-saskatchewan-pirate-c73bzxw
No-one will be walkin’ the plank today boy-o’s.
Its been sent to the shop for hobnail replacement.
No-one will be walkin’ the plank today boy-o’s.
Its been sent to the shop for hobnail replacement.
The plank’s in the shop. Well, that’s a bummer.
KEEL-HAUL ‘im! Arg!
The plank’s in the shop. Well, that’s a bummer.
KEEL-HAUL ‘im! Arg!
Arr… We be havin’ no planks? Perhaps a log or a very-large stick?
Arr… We be havin’ no planks? Perhaps a log or a very-large stick?
Arg, no sticks. If we be doin’ this, we be doin’ this according to the book. A plank is a plank. Hobnails aren’t ship-shape to me eye, but then I don’t wear the big hat here. If the feather say hobnails, I say hobnails. Ah, if we only had a proper ship we’d have a back-up plank.
Arg, no sticks. If we be doin’ this, we be doin’ this according to the book. A plank is a plank. Hobnails aren’t ship-shape to me eye, but then I don’t wear the big hat here. If the feather say hobnails, I say hobnails. Ah, if we only had a proper ship we’d have a back-up plank.
My apoligies captain, but do we, in fact, have a ship?
Arr… all yer talk of piratin’ has made me day. If ol’ Thunderplanks Scalzi were to be hearin’ such amusin’ be’avior he’da squawked by now. ‘E must be below decks slavin’ away under the stern eye of One-Eyed Patrick.
Arr!!! If I coud read I’d bless ‘is black ‘eart!
[quaffs another cup o’ grog and falls over backward, snoring]
Argh, yes, the cap’n is below decks “typin” while Commador Pat cracks the hobnail club (there be them damnable hobs, no wonder we’re fresh out). The first mate is still lickin the bacon grease off’n her furry hide, and I ain’t seen much of command beyond that.
Argh, yes, the cap’n is below decks “typin” while Commador Pat cracks the hobnail club (there be them damnable hobs, no wonder we’re fresh out). The first mate is still lickin the bacon grease off’n her furry hide, and I ain’t seen much of command beyond that.
Years ago I appeared in a production of “treasure Island” playing a Pirate dick. I mean a pirate named “Dick.”
We pirates had numerous opportunities to ad-lib but very quickly the Director squashed any more use of the interjection “Arrr.”
It turns out that “Arrr” is the very first thing that everybody uses when they are a pirate and it is hard to come up with much else.
So I’m sorta all pirated out.
Matt,
We do, in fact, have a proper ship, but as it has been dispatched to Rigel to pick up the plank, (“Rigel: home of the best hobnails in the galaxy”),
it will be unavailable until sometime next Tuesday.
Arrrrrr, forgot to speak Pirate.
Matt,
We do, in fact, have a proper ship, but as it has been dispatched to Rigel to pick up the plank, (“Rigel: home of the best hobnails in the galaxy”),
it will be unavailable until sometime next Tuesday.
Arrrrrr, forgot to speak Pirate.
You can do eeeet!
Arg, space pirates be we? So these must be talkin’ squid I’m swabbin off the deck.
Arg, space pirates be we? So these must be talkin’ squid I’m swabbin off the deck.
Tripp,
Does this help?
“Hop to it, dogs: Thar be leftover catering booty in the break room for plunderin’.”
“Arrr, matey, have your parrot call my parrot and we’ll partake of noontime grub together.”
“Be that a peg leg, or arrr ye just happy to cast yer eyes upon me?”
“Ye bent my ear with yer lubberly questions WITHOUT tryin’ a reboot first? Arrr! It’s the plank for you, ye mangy cur… and thank ye for calling Microsoft Tech Support!”
“Aye, if it’s a large treasure chest and amazin’ booty ye seek, fix yer gaze upon the receptionist.”
“Avast, ye demon copy machine! Taste the wrath of my arse!”
I agree there’s an over abundance of “Arrrs”, but then there’s so much more.
Tripp,
Does this help?
“Hop to it, dogs: Thar be leftover catering booty in the break room for plunderin’.”
“Arrr, matey, have your parrot call my parrot and we’ll partake of noontime grub together.”
“Be that a peg leg, or arrr ye just happy to cast yer eyes upon me?”
“Ye bent my ear with yer lubberly questions WITHOUT tryin’ a reboot first? Arrr! It’s the plank for you, ye mangy cur… and thank ye for calling Microsoft Tech Support!”
“Aye, if it’s a large treasure chest and amazin’ booty ye seek, fix yer gaze upon the receptionist.”
“Avast, ye demon copy machine! Taste the wrath of my arse!”
I agree there’s an over abundance of “Arrrs”, but then there’s so much more.
Argh, whilst the plank be gone fer hobnailin’ on Rigel, I say hang ’em from the highist yardarm, matey! Argh!
Concerning cake vs pie for a birthday:If you have pie, it has to be a one-crust pie. A top crust tends to interfere with candles.39 is indeed a young laddie. I have a daughter who is 37. But it was entertaining watching the Earth’s crust cool back when I was young.
“Arrr, matey, have your parrot call my parrot and we’ll partake of noontime grub together.”
Ye scurvy dog, now I got ta swab the coffee outta me keyboard!
Alas, me mates, me wager has hit the drink too. Ol’ Thunderplanks surely is becalmed in the void or worse! lost in the tortugas questing fer the secrets of the lost colonists.
Wait! Has any ye seen the cabin boy?
Best wishes to ye, Matey Jim, but cake and pie on a pirate ship? Bilge! This ain’t the royal pleasure barge, yer lordship. It’s hardtack and apples for you, I fear. But buck up. Back in the day ye would have got 39 with the cat, and one to grow on. An old pirate tradition, that is, what I just made up.
Tell you what. Next merchant vessel we board, I’m putting the steel to a swab in your honor!
Best wishes to ye, Matey Jim, but cake and pie on a pirate ship? Bilge! This ain’t the royal pleasure barge, yer lordship. It’s hardtack and apples for you, I fear. But buck up. Back in the day ye would have got 39 with the cat, and one to grow on. An old pirate tradition, that is, what I just made up.
Tell you what. Next merchant vessel we board, I’m putting the steel to a swab in your honor!
Avast! ‘Tis nearly eight bells on the afternoon watch, and that scurvy Thunderplanks is still missing…I am afeered my galleons belong to Davey Jones!
Mark DF:
Argh, the Cabin Boy has also deserted! Methinks I sense a pattern, argh!
Nathan,
Does this help?
Yes, yes it does! Is that what they mean by software piracy?
Good job!