Ahoy there, ye rum-swillin' rapscallions! No need fer this brave beauty to tell ye that it be International Talk Like A Pirate Day - time fer all landlocked lubbers to shiver the timbers o' the ol' poxy lingo an get on down to Cap'n Hooker's party. 'Cept there en't no liquor on account o' me new grog-free existence. Time was when I could've drunk any one o' ye under the table, arrr, many's the time I've Amstelled, Beujolaised and caroused into the night, crushed ten men's skulls between me thighs while singin' yo ho ho an' a bottle o' rum. Those were the days, me hearties! But what I always says is as there's more ‘n one way o' havin' a good time, and be assured that if a good time's to be had, I'll be havin' it, one way or t'other, with a hogshead o’ peppermint tea.
Drivelswiggers an’ landlubbers all be feelin’ a chill in the air an’ it be that time o’ year when I be goin’ to the binnacle and takin’ out me old purple shell suit trousers which be shipshape as the day I first got ‘em from Barnardo’s charity shop, arrr, an’ served me well this many a year. I stuck me prow in Primark t’other day thinkin’ to snaffle meself somethin’ cheap an’ cheerful for the season. Saved me doubloons an’ shipped out again smartish on seein’ nothin’ that could hold a candle to me purples.
Shiver me timbers, it’s gettin’ late, if I don’t get some shut-eye I’ll be nothin’ but shark-bait - an’ anyways I’m almost out o’ pirattical words. Peckers up, me ol’ salts, an’ a yo ho ho from Cap’n Signs’ Jollyboat to y’all!
an' a massive P.S. - if you want to read the best Pirate poem ever go here - ah gwaaan, I insist - 'tis Katy Evans Bush's (aka Baroque in Hackney) Pirate Prufrock. Fabulous.