CONSULT THE BEAVER: ADVICE FOR TH' LOVE WORN
is a service provided by Foxmorton's Blog.
Advice not guaranteed nor lab tested though
once or twice circumstances arose where
we surprised ourselves. Foxmorton takes
no responsibility for damages incurred
whilst heedin' said advice.
Names will be changed t' protect yer dignity.
Though I'm thinkin' iffen ye had any o' that left ye wouldn't be writin'.
No Beaver's were harmed in th' answerin'
o' these questions though a few have
been reported t' be neglected. ~Foxmorton's Beaver
CONSULT THE BEAVER: WHERE WE GIVES A...DAM...ABOUT YOU!
Wit' that there bloody Valentine's Day just down th' quay I finds meself adrift wit' nary a sweetness t' be found in me missive box. Ye sees...I did make th' grand mistake o' likin' this here handsome pirate though when I tried t' makes meself noticed I fears I may have come across well...what ye might calls a bit...aggressive. Aye an' it be not like th' bleedin' did na stop directly an' I'm sure his scarrin's goin' t' be all but undetectable...though I has ne'er seen a look o' terror liken unto that even th' time I lashed wee Johnny Knickerknots t' me mizzenmast an' forced him t' take me t' th' Commodore's Parrot Bake an' Hemp Games even though his Mother said no.
Me question: Do ye gets better results wit' hot pine pitch or a goodly grape shot spray t' th' face? I don't wants t' mess up next time 'round.
Aye. Th' curse o' all celebratin' days: Bloody Hearts an' Guts Day! They cuts out yer heart then hands ye yer guts! There ought'a be a law, I says. But come what may, an' it always does, there it be an' naught a well-meanin' piratess can do about it 'ceptin' stay half cocked an' fully loaded wit' a good eye out fer them what's on the gettin' end o' romantical gifts an' such an' is pickleheaded enough t' shows 'em t' ye. It ain't a waste o' shot I thinks iffen ye grabs their swag afore they hits th' ground an' reminds 'em on their way down their True Love ain't got no chin.
I feels yer plight. Who makes up a day where only those who be gettin' any get some?
I say we start our own day! We'll calls it: "Ahoy There, Scardypants! Look At This!" But them there Hallmark people has yet t' return me calls.
So, ye've made a wee mistake. Ye flashed yer flintlock afore ye flashed yer smile. Yer a pirate. Get o'er it. An' in my experience ye ain't likely t' make th' same mistake again. Ye e'er sees a pirate wit' TWO hooks? Exactly. Besides, iffen he can't hold up t' th' initial 'Meat & Greet' I'm thinkin' ye weren't goin' t' see no roses an' squid cakes anyhow. I'd tells ye there be other fish in th' sea but that be jus' somethin' stupid people say when they don't want t' be listenin' t' yer love woes. Besides, all them fish got th' same stink on 'em anyways so's it probably wouldn't be doin' ye any favors.
Now, go get's yer self one o' them there dot-to-dot color book's an' a bottle o' good rum an' settles in fer th' long haul. Oh, and pops a headless kipper wit' a dubh through it's heart anonymously in th' mail t' yer intended. E'ery body loves t' get a Valentine.
Fair Winds....an' keep yer chin up. It'll keeps ye from gettin stains on yer bodice.
ps. I finds that there hot pitch t' be a bugger t' gets outen yer pirate iffen ye plans on usin' him
again. I'd go with th' grape shot an' jus' wait fer th' scabs t' falls off.
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