Pirates. Life. Stuff. Arrrrrr

I was going to write a post today about LIFE being all LIFEY and getting in the way of STUFF I need to DO, but then something more important came up. More importantly, my draft lifey post somehow deleted itself. The universe was trying to tell me to shut up. So here I am, shutting up very succcessfully. Listening is one of my strengths.

What do we really need to talk about today? PIRATES. Specifically the glorification of pirates.

Today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. What’s it all about? And why are we glorifying pirates? PIRATES RUIN LIVES, people. PIRATES ARE THIEVES. PIRATES ARE VIOLENT and FIGHT and DRUNKS and stuff. BAD. Bad people. JUST KIDDING!!! Aye, I’m joking. Yo, hoes. Ho, ho, or something. Sorry. I need some pirate lingo practice. And a bottle of rum.

Today is about the ridiculous, the pointless, and fun, and for those reasons alone, I embrace Pirate Day wholeheartedly. Meaninglessness and randomness are IMPORTANT.

In a week where I’ve been shocked by the realisation I am doing things that are not ME, I’m clutching at pieces of random wherever I find them. The things this ‘ME’ has been doing, in vomit-worthy order from top to bottom, are:

  • 1. Ironing school shirts that are CLEAN (i.e. not just to freshen up dirty ones)
  • 2. Wearing stockings, without ladders, and with no nail polish on holes
  • 3. Making sandwiches for MYSELF as well as for the kid
  • 4. Going to bed at 9 pm

I need an intervention. Stat. Send help. Or booze.

Other pieces of random I’ve been clutching at, to prove I haven’t been sunk into a mire of corporate city sludge, are my purple nails, and my ‘spy’ pen: a birthday gift laden with Swarovski crystals, with a hidden USB inside. It’s not much, I know, but it’s all I’ve got, me hearties.

Face it. I’m a corporate cog. It’s quite soothing being machinery, rather than raging against it. In any case, I’m on a train, and fighting a train would look a bit stupid. I’ll take on the occasional blowdryer, but I know when I’m out of my depth.

So. Today, corporate ironing sandwich making stocking wearing water-drinking sleeping cog that I am, I embrace the random, the unexpected, the silly, and the opportunity to insert gratuitous pictures of Johnny the Pirate Depp.



Yo, hoes. Give that Kim a bottle of rum.

Yo, hoes. Give that Kim a bottle of rum.

Lounging on the Poopdeck¬†today with the Landlubbin’ Sarah the Succubous, at SlapdashMama.

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