Tropical Storm Isaac

"The wind in the wires made a tattletale sound, and a wave broke over the railing"... not!  Here at Feral Cove we're only getting some light rain showers and the odd gust of wind... if this be what the kids today call a tropical storm, then Captain Jack has naught but contempt fer 'em!  Landlubbers!

Waldo Kitty

Farewell, my dear friend Waldo... Captain Jack will meet you at the Rainbow Bridge, should he be found worthy when all is said and done.  I love you, buddy.

Meet the crew!

Name:  Joseph, a.k.a. "Joey Boy"

Rank:  Chief Lookout

Ethnicity:  Lilac-point Siamese

Anyone who has ever captained a pirate ship knows that you've got to have a reliable lookout in the crow's nest to warn you when there are enemy vessels heaving into view, or when a renegade island, iceberg, or continent is on a collision course with your ship, thanks to the effects of excess rum (damn those drunken continents... there ought to be a law!)  That said, Captain Jack is blessed to have Joey Boy's sharp eyes scanning the horizon from the top of the mainmast... what, me worry?  I should cocoa!

Riddle me this, mateys...

Go ye to any establishment that sells "cat food," examine the selection offered, and think about these questions:

How many cats do you know who have taken down a full grown cow?

How many cats do you know who have taken down a turkey, or even a chicken?

How many cats do you know who have scored a tuna from a deep sea fishing boat?

How many cats do you know who have successfully swiped a salmon from a rushing mountain stream?

Not many, Captain Jack wagers.

So why do the major cat food manufacturers offer flavours like "beef", "chicken", "turkey", "salmon", and "tuna and ocean whitefish?"  No feral cat around these parts would be familiar with such things!  Surely "Citrus Rat Surprise", "Lizard Kebabs", "Cockroach Clusters", and "Gecko Fritters" would be far more suitable for the local feral market... but then again Captain Jack is only captain of a pirate ship, and not a captain of industry.

Fester

Four years ago today we lost a dear friend and dedicated crewmember, at the all-too-young age of eleven.  Fester came aboard when Mad Bess and myself made a brief stop in the Canadian Maritimes, and during his years sailing with us he showed nothing but compassion and caring toward his shipmates.  He was a unique combination of chaplain, counselor, physician, gormless lovable lug, and just an all-around good egg, wanting to befriend everyone he met, cuddling and comforting any crewmate who was poorly (even the ones who had been mean to him in the past) and never without a cheery "Hello!" to all who crossed his path.  Fester, you have a special place in Captain Jack's heart, and (with tears falling upon the ship's keyboard now) I can honestly say that our loss is Heaven's gain.  I miss you, buddy.

Meet the crew!

Name:  Jessminder "Jessie" Jamieson

Rank:  Chief Box Inspector

Ethnicity:  Tuxedo

The thing about boxes is, you never know if they contain treasure until you inspect them.  In the pirate world, this is very important:  After all, if it weren't for treasure, we freebooters would pretty much all be greeting shoppers at Wal-Mart, flipping burgers at McDonald's, or hanging around the local Manpower office holding cardboard signs that say, "Will work halfheartedly for rum."  (Not that there is anything wrong with that!)  So if you command a pirate ship, as Captain Jack does, it makes good financial sense to employ a professional box inspector who takes her job seriously, and that describes our Jessie to a nicety.  If a box appears from anywhere, you can count on her to seize it and inspect the living daylights out of it.  Just look at the grim determination on her face... that box isn't going to get away with anything, on her watch!  Now there's a crewman that Captain Jack can count on!

Happy Birthday to First Mate Mad Bess!

And what better way to celebrate a true pirate's birthday than raiding a thrift shop, an Indian restaurant, AND a liquor store, all in one crazy evening?  Our first victim was Last Chance, whence we came away with posh raiments, tasteful fake candles, a fancy jewelry box, smart picture frame mattes, a pair of dancing shoes, a pair of monkey slippers (i.e. slippers that make it look like you're wearing real monkeys on your feet), a genuine Turbo Cooker ("As seen on TV!") and a couple of cat food bowls.  Oh, and a bath mat set.  All at half price thanks to the coupon that Bess clipped from the local paper... sweet!

On our way home to Feral Cove we pillaged some delicious food from Bawarchi Indian restaurant, and then set our sights on B-21 Wines and Liquors where we scored some bargain-priced beverages... not a bad birthday for a pirate, eh, Bess?  :)

Happy Birthday, Snooty!

Today is the 64th birthday of Snooty, the world's oldest known manatee... as a fellow Florida native and seagoing creature, Captain Jack wishes Snooty all the best!  Interestingly, today's scientists blame the mermaid sightings of yesteryear on drunk pirates (Drunk?!! Well I never!!!) mistaking manatees like Snooty for Darryl Hannah... Captain Jack is no scientist, so he will leave it up to you, me hearties, to debate the validity of that theory.

Separated at birth?

Kitty Wells

Captain Jack has a day off work tomorrow so he was staying up listening to a Status Quo CD, as is his wont.  But then "Wild Side of Life" came on, and he recalled that Kitty Wells (who originally recorded the song in 1952 as "It Wasn't God Who Made Honkytonk Angels") died on Monday at the age of 92. Another legend gone... very sad.

How not to sound like a landlubber

It has come to Captain Jack's attention that some of you may not be familiar with the proper pronunciation of certain nautical/pirate terms.  With "Talk Like a Pirate Day" fast approaching (September 19) I'll periodically be posting helpful hints and tips, starting today...

Boatswain:  Pronounced "Bosun" (NOT "boat-swayn"), i.e. the fellow in charge of assigning day to day tasks to the crew and seeing that they accomplish them, or else!

Forecastle:  Pronounced "Foxl" (NOT "fawr-cassull"), i.e. the part of the ship forward of the foremast, typically used for crews' quarters.

Coxswain:  Pronounced "Coxn" (NOT "cock-swayn"), i.e. the fellow in charge of any small boat the Captain chooses to send off on an "away team" mission.

And don't even get Captain Jack started on folk who say "lee-wurrd" instead of "luw'rd" when they're talking about the opposite of windward...!

Happy Birthday, Nikola!

July 10th is the 156th birthday of Captain Jack's favourite inventor and engineer, Nikola Tesla, a.k.a. the Master of Lightning.  Described by his fans on cracked.com as, "Celibate, yet surprisingly doable," Mr. Tesla (an ethnic Serb from Croatia) pretty much invented or at least laid the groundwork for most of the things that make life awesome today:  An efficient means of generating alternating current and transmitting it over long distances (suck it, Edison!), the first real wireless radio (suck it, Marconi!), x-ray machines (suck it, Roentgen!), fluorescent lighting, neon lighting, robotics, remote controls, an efficient telephone signal repeater system, the basis for logic gates and radar, and pioneering work into the wireless transmission of electricity that is still being explored to this day (the US government confiscated all his personal files when he died and none of them have been seen since, which makes it a bit difficult for those trying to follow in his footsteps) and 700-odd other patents.  Thanks to corporate coverups and intrigue (I'm looking at you, Thomas Alva Edison!) he's only just recently getting the recognition he deserves for his contributions to science; several young supermarket cashiers have in the past few months assured me that the schools are indeed FINALLY teaching kids about Tesla... nearly 70 years after his death!  Better late than never, I guess.  Not only that, but during his childhood his best friend was his cat Macak (they even had actual adventures, like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn!) and he was a fellow vegetarian and bird lover just like Captain Jack... in fact, when he died, his beloved pigeons were the only ones at his bedside.  We love you, Nik!  Happy 156th!

"Hey, baby.  Wanna check out my death ray machine?"

The wonderful world of international cuisine

For our tea tonight Mad Bess and myself had chips (or "French Fries" as we called them in my day) with Batchelors Mushy Peas.  Tinned mushy peas are a staple food group in Bess' native Yorkshire, and are yet another wondrous cultural thing that she opened your Captain's eyes (and taste buds) to, over the course of our relationship.  And if you're fortunate enough to live in the American southeast, you can easily find them on the "British shelf" at Publix.  Don't let the fluorescent blue-green colouring put you off, me hearties... just open the tin, nuke 'em, throw on a little mint sauce, and enjoy... it's a unique culinary experience!  Batchelors... ask for 'em by name!

"Luxury!"

The most kick-arse tribute to anyone in the history of ever

A few weeks ago Captain Jack lamented the passing of Eduard "Mr. Trololo" Khil, the so-called Perry Como of the Soviet Union.  Well, the amazing Trololo Man's spirit lives on in this mind-blowing heavy metal tribute by guitar shredder Eric Calderone... enjoy, mateys!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1CFnM4SYQC8&feature=relmfu

Happy Fourth of July, Mateys!

Ah, the day we Americans celebrate overthrowing the government!  Now that be Captain Jack's kind of holiday!



Meet the crew!

Name:  Baby Sidney, a.k.a. "Hissing Sid"

Rank:  Boatswain

Ethnicity:  Seal-point Siamese

Ladies and gents, this is the man who keeps Captain Jack's crew focused on their day to day duties.  He's a level-headed and fair-minded chap, but look into his eyes... you don't want to cross him, do you?  No... you don't!  Captain Jack runs a tight ship, and it's in no small part thanks to Baby Sidney and his "people skills"...!  Step out of line and you'll get a bat round yer lug 'ole!

Baby Sidney appeared on our doorstep here at Feral Cove some years ago, as nothing more than a tiny wee bairn, and a sickly one at that.  Mad Bess and myself took him in, bottle-fed him, and he grew up big and strong... though he had a tendency to hiss at folk, which is why Bess called him "Hissing Sid" after a television character (a puppet snake, I believe) from her childhood. 

When our old boatswain and dear friend, Mister Snoopy Noodles, was on his final bed o'fliction at the age of seventeen, Bess asked me who I thought would take over for him.  I answered without hesitation that it would be Sidney.  At the time, she thought me mad!  "But he's only a baby," she exclaimed!  I however had observed Mister Noodles spending time with Baby Sidney, accepting him into his "personal space" and bonding with him... maybe it's a "guy thing," but Captain Jack had no doubt whatsoever who his next boatswain would be.

Mister Noodles left you some damn big gumboots to fill, Baby Sidney, but Captain Jack says you not only stepped up to the plate, but hit that sucker out of the park... you're a good man, my friend!

Self-medicating: It's the pirate way!

If you're anything like Captain Jack, then you've got plenty of experience with the wonder drug known as penicillin, or its modern cousin, amoxicillin.  How that experience was gained is not the issue (nor will it ever be -- what happens in the Caribbean stays in the Caribbean, am I right, mateys?!)  Our topic tonight is the practical application of that knowledge, for the triple purposes of helpin' your loyal crew, savin' your doubloons, and stickin' it to The Man... noble goals, all of them!

You see, Mad Bess and myself sail with a motley but lovable band of misfits... Maine Coons, Siameses, tabbies, torties, Russian Blues, and every kind of halfbreed you can think of... they're a good and faithful crew, and Captain Jack would gladly walk the plank or stand the drop of York for any man-jack of them, no messin'.  Occasionally though, even the best of them falls ill to ailments such as upper respiratory infections, toothaches, and what have you -- piratin' is a stressful business, you see!  And these landlubber veterinarians want a hook-hand, a peg-leg, and a glass eye in exchange for a prescription for antibiotics... the lily-livered shysters.  Well, as Mad Bess would say in her native Yorkshire tongue, "Sod that for a game of soldiers!"

What's to be done, you may ask?  Two words, mateys:  "FishMox" and "gelcaps."  FishMox is merely amoxicillin for fishies... you can buy it online without a prescription, and one capsule provides four cat doses.  "But how do I split it into four cat doses, Captain Jack?"  Simple.  Either go to Amazon or your local health food store and buy a bag of size-0 gelcaps, and divide a FishMox capsule equally into four gelcaps (don't feed your crewmate the original FishMox capsule... it will, ahem, pass right through him/her without dissolving... don't ask Captain Jack how he knows this...)  This method also allows you to add any other medication your fellow sailor may need, all in one convenient beef-flavoured gelcap... with no $55 "office visit" fee to deplete your rum fund!  You're welcome!!!

The delightful Indonesian House Gecko

Ah, the world of Nature... those of you unfortunate enough to live outside the Tropics may not be familiar with this benevolent yet idiotic little reptile... he does his best to rid Captain Jack's windows of those pesky moths (ZOOM... CHOMP!!!  "Moth?  What moth?") but Mad Bess and myself have to make a great show of bashing away at the door every time we want to go outdoors after dark, so he runs away and doesn't accidentally get himself crushed in the door frame when we shut the door behind us... there has been some unpleasantness in the past, and that's enough said about that... :(  Any road up, we love you, little gecko... you're way more awesome than that stupid Geico gecko on TV! 

"Hi there!"

Tropical Storm Debby

Furl the mains'ls, batten down the hatches, and deploy the sea anchor, bosun Sidney... there be squalls ahead!  Aye, mateys, we've got a tropical storm right offshore... and if you're a pirate like me then you know what that means:  Break out the rum, crisps, and dip, because it's hurricane-party time!  (Yes, Captain Jack knows that a tropical storm is technically not QUITE a hurricane, but that could change at any moment, so it's best to be prepared just in case... it's known as preemptive partying... a classic pirate tactic!)

Stickin' it to The Man!

If you're anything like Captain Jack, then you get great satisfaction from victories (small as they may be) against the powers that be.  Well, this evening Mad Bess and myself feasted upon two Veggie Delite sandwiches from Subway... FREE OF CHARGE!!!  T'was all thanks to your Captain's finding an inappropriate metallic casting in his sandwich a few weeks back... Subway's southeastern US regional manager said, "Give that pirate captain and his wench a free footlong sub each, and be quick about it!"  And by gods and by damn, that is exactly what they did!  Nom nom nom nom nom...

Eduard "Mister Trololo" Khil dead at 77

They called him the Perry Como of the Soviet Union, and now he is crooning in Heaven ... but as long as Captain Jack has breath in his lungs, his blog will have a link to the immortal Trololo Man...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1orMXD_Ijbs

Stray Cat Helps Little Autistic Boy

Not that Captain Jack is a sentimental old softie or anything... gods forbid!  It's just that... aww, just click on the link, me hearties!

http://www.lifewithcats.tv/2012/06/16/billy-the-stray-cat-changes-the-life-of-an-autistic-boy-with-the-healing-power-of-love/

Head Trauma

Just a shout-out to thank Mad Bess for openin' Captain Jack's ears to the existence of Status Quo... Bess, you're goin' to owe your man a new pair of glasses at this rate because they go flyin' off across the deck whenever I start head-bangin'... which realistically can't be avoided with these fellows' brand of music!  Good stuff!  :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHM9HqCLqB8&ob=av3n

Pictured:  A recipe for mild concussions and broken reading glasses



Happy birthday, Mr. Les Paul

A number of noteworthy people are celebratin' their birthday today on the ninth of June... Princess Amidala is 31... Fake Captain Jack (a.k.a. Edward Scissorhands) is 49... Marty McFly is 51... Jackie Mason is 76... and Cole Porter would be 121.  Most importantly though, Les Paul would be 97, had he not passed away in 2009.  If you love rock-&-roll as much as I do, then by gods and by damn, you owe this man a huge debt... he pretty much invented the tools that make it possible.  The solid-body electric guitar, the 8-track tape recorder, just about everything else that makes rock sound like it does... he invented that.  Ever hear of the Gibson Les Paul guitar?  Yep... named after him.  His chording sequences and fretting techniques still inspire guitarists today.  Would you like to know more?  Check Wikipedia... I don't have time to list all his accomplishments... suffice to say that he was for all intents and purposes the Nikola Tesla of rock... he basically laid the groundwork for it all.  Not only that, but in 1948 he was in a car crash and the doctors told him he would have to either have his right arm amputated or set in a frozen position; he told them to set it at just off 90 degrees so he could keep playing guitar if nothing else!  Ladies and gents, that is hardcore, and we are all so very much the better for it!  Thank you, Mr. Paul... I would say "Rest in peace" but I'm sure you'd rather just keep on rockin'...!

Captain, we've sighted pancakes!

Mad Bess and myself had a bit of a summit conference this evening with some pirate associates of ours.  In the days of your captain's youth, this would have involved swordplay, prodigious amounts of rum, and at least one or two hacked-off or poked-out body parts (all in good fun, you understand!)  In these politically correct times, however, swordplay was replaced with conversation, rum was replaced with hot tea, and the most violent act committed was when we took our knives and savagely attacked our delicious delicious pancakes and then attempted to drown their remains in whipped butter and blueberry syrup... did I not mention that this summit meeting took place at International House of Pirates Pancakes?  T'is a new age of piratin'... adapt or die, mateys, adapt or die!

Pancakes:  The new doubloons!

Happy Birthday, Libby Belle!

T'was nearly a half-score years astern that Captain Jack heard a commotion out in back of our hideout here at Feral Cove, one fine summer's morn.  Cato, a homeless canine of the chow-chow persuasion who we'd hired on as a sentry, had cornered something in the compost heap.  Could it be a crocodile? Or perhaps a soldier of fortune, come to collect Captain Jack's head for the bounty upon it?  (Captain Jack is a pirate after all... he must have a bounty on his head, right?  Right?)  With flintlocks loaded and drawn, your captain warily approached the compost heap, and found...

...a tiny blue-eyed white kitten no bigger than a BK Veggie.  Said kitten was valiantly hissing, spitting, and slashing at Cato, who was a hundred times her size and frothing at the mouth in an hysterical rage (as your average chow-chow sentries are wont to do.)  Warding off the over-enthusiastic Cato with one hand, your captain scooped up the stout-hearted little feline with the other and made his way back to the ramshackle shanty that he and Mad Bess call home, taking care to hold the lilliputian castaway up and out of the leaping chow-chow's reach.

Since this day happened to be the 4th of July, Bess and I decided to call the little one Liberty Belle, or Libby for short.  We fed her KMR from a baby bottle (which she adorably referred to as her "bok-bok") and she grew up to be big and strong (i.e., fat) and a total princess besides!  To this day we have no clue how a four-week-old kitten made her way over a six-foot privacy fence and successfully held off a rampaging 55-pound sentry dog for however many minutes it took for me to reach her... we have to just assume she was an angel who fell from Heaven... and landed in our compost heap.

Why am I telling you all this, me hearties?  Because this Wednesday past was Libby's tenth birthday.  She's not white anymore; as the years pass, her flame-point Siamese colours become more and more evident, but she's every bit the blue-eyed princess she always was!

Pirate therapy

After yesterday's unpleasantness, Captain Jack needed something to lift his spirits, and by Neptune's trident, today he got it!  After a surprise raid upon Last Chance Thrift Store, your Captain came away with a very nice golf shirt for casual Friday, a manly muscle shirt for those lawless weekends of pillaging and debauchery, and a couple of feeding dishes for his faithful feline crew.  Mad Bess got herself some fetching tops, a nice cardie, and a framed picture whose matte she plans to use for artistic purposes yet unknown... she's a mystery sometimes, is Bess, and Captain Jack wouldn't have her any other way!  :)

Moving right along... Once we'd laid waste to Last Chance, our next target was Bawarchi Indian Restaurant, where we successfully made off with enough grub to last us at least four days at sea:  Dal makhani, aloo gobi, samosas, basmati rice, and two kinds of chutney... heck, that's all your basic food groups right there, matey (apart from rum of course, but being pirates we already had plenty of that on board!  Arrr!!!)

After all this plundering, once we reached safe harbour Mad Bess and myself decided to relax by watching Glengarry Glen Ross whilst enjoying the spoils of our victories.  Now, that there is a film that takes your Captain back to his soul-destroying days at Sun Toyota, trying desperately to lure suckers into buying overpriced automobiles that they can't afford... t'is no wonder he turned to a life of piracy... Captain Jack is just too honourable to be a car salesman!  Great movie though, with an all-star cast and surely some kind of record for total number of f-words packed into 100 minutes!

Monsoon season

In this godforsaken corner of the globe that your Captain and Mad Bess call home, the first of June normally marks the beginning of monsoon season, and this year was no exception.  Torrential rains most of the day, some of the fiercest that we've ever weathered in fact.  And for his own sake I hope those selfsame rains drowned the filthy bilge rat who saw fit to pilfer the halogen docking lamps from the stern of the S.S. Magnum whilst Captain Jack's back was turned... them lamps were a birthday gift from me sainted mother-in-law Iron Milly, so if you've survived the monsoons, boyo, ye'd best pray that our paths never cross, or the kiss of Captain Jack's cutlass will be the last kiss you receive before shuffling off to Davy Jones' Locker (if he'll even have a lowlife piece of lubberly scum like you, that is!)  Captain Jack is not best pleased with this turn of events, to say the least.

Tempest-tossed!

Forenoon Watch commander Mister Tabbles:  "Captain!  There's a tropical storm on the horizon!  Pirate radio says she's called Beryl, sir!"

Captain Jack:  "Meh.  Wake me when she's a cat-3 hurricane and not before, mister!  Now, back to your post and let me get some shuteye!"

Aye mateys, we weathered a tropical storm, and Mad Bess and myself slept right through it.  Not only that, but it turns out there was another storm called Alberto about ten days ago that was so unimpressive that we hadn't even heard about it at all.  Hurricane season doesn't officially get underway until Friday, but it seems our friend Poseidon has chosen to get an early start this year!  So be it, Mr. P... let the games begin!

No falling asleep during this one, me hearties!

Mad Bess and myself watched 28 Weeks Later tonight, for I suppose the 4th or 5th time... after being thoroughly baffled by Inception last night, your Captain wanted a film that any simpleton could fathom out, and shiver me timbers, this one delivers!  Sudden terrifying attacks by "the infected" (speedy zombies, for all intents and purposes), narrow escapes, ironic twists, dismembered body parts flying hither and thither, machine guns, sniper rifles, firebombs, flame throwers, poison gas, a car chase, creative uses of helicopter blades, and a depressing surprise ending... in short, most everything a modern pirate captain looks for in a movie!  Robert Carlyle and Rose Byrne are in it too, so... five stars out of five!

Dad?

"Inception"

Mad Bess and myself watched Inception for the second time this evening.  Bess said that she "totally got it this time" unlike the first time... as for your Captain though... that whooshing sound you just heard was the sound of it going completely over his head yet again.  Maybe one day... :(

Happy Birthday, Saruman!

Yet another day rich with famous folks' birthdays!  Christopher Lee is 90, Vincent Price would be 101, Louis Gossett Jr. is 76, war criminal Henry Kissinger is 89, mystery author Dashiell Hammett would be 118, sci-fi writer Harlan Ellison is 78, wild-west lawman Wild Bill Hickok would be 175, dancer Isadora Duncan would be 135, and golf legend "Slammin' Sammy" Snead would be 100 (and you know for sure that Captain Jack's golfing in-laws back in dear old Blighty will be celebrating in fine style!)  But seriously, wouldn't it be awesome to be invited to a WIZARD'S birthday party???  Captain Jack says, "Arrrrr!!"

And many mooooorrrrre!

Happy birthday to... so many people!

John Wayne would be 105 today... Miles Davis would be 86...  Jay "Tonto" Silverheels would be 100... James Arness would be 89... Peggy Lee would be 92... Peter Cushing would be 99... Robert Morley would be 104... Al Jolson would be 126... Frankie Manning (the Lindy Hop guy) would be 98... Sally Ride (America's first female astronaut) is 61... Pam Grier is 63 (seriously???)... Stevie Nicks is 64 (seriously???)... Helena Bonham Carter is 46... Hank Williams Jr. is 63... Lenny Kravitz is 48... is May 26 some kind of probability nexus or something?  What a strange universe we live in!  Any road up, Captain Jack wishes happy birthday to all!  

Captain Jack: 1, Big Medicine: 0

If you're anything like me, then you know there's no better feeling than stickin' it to The Man, am I right, mateys?  Today for instance Mad Bess and your Captain went to the doctor; the woman behind the counter said, "That'll be a $20 copay for Bess, and another $20 for you, Captain Jack."  So I says, says I, "I believe there will be no charge for me, seeing as how it's my annual pirate physical, which my pirate insurance policy clearly states I am entitled to without one doubloon of cost.  What say you now, wench?"  Suffice to say, your Captain had his physical and left the office with his doubloons still secure in his pocket (and the scurvy dog of a doctor even complimented him on his healthy blood pressure as well!)  You have to get up pretty early in the afternoon to pull the wool over Captain Jack's good eye, me hearties!

'Scotty' reaches outer space at last

Mad Bess once got to sit on Jimmy Doohan's knee at a Star Trek convention; t'was one of the highlights of her life.  Today we read that 'Scotty' had finally made it into space.  I'd like to think that as the rocket clawed for altitude a muffled voice rang out from the urn, "Captain!  She canna take much more!"

http://mashable.com/2012/05/22/spacex-dragon-scotty/

Best birthday wishes to Mr. T

Anyone in possession of that much gold must surely be a pirate at heart!  Captain Jack pities the fool who doesn't wish you a happy sixtieth, matey!

Captain Jack calls shenanigans on those IMDB landlubbers!

5.2?  Five point two???  That's all the International Movie Database gave The Thaw???  The lily-livered blackguards!  Mad Bess and myself enjoyed the blue blazes out of that film this evening... me hearties, if you want a movie that's got thrills, chills, paranoia, horrible bugs burrowing into people's flesh, a goateed and not quite so bloated-looking Val Kilmer, a desperately desolate setting, and the looming threat of an apocalyptic pandemic, then look no further!  5.2???  You disappoint me, IMDB!

   

If you've not seen this film, what's wrong with you?

Ah, the night every pirate looks forward to each week:  Movie night!  Mad Bess and myself enjoyed The Rocker this evening (for the third or fourth time)... even after a hard day's pillaging and plundering, your Captain actually managed to stay awake through the entire film thanks to all the laughs and the great music... and the star of the film is Dwight from "The Office" so that's an added incentive to see it if you've not already done so for whatever reason! 

"Captain Jack, why do pirates wear those badass eye patches anyway?"

There seems to be a common rumour amongst the landlubbers that we pirates are for some reason clumsily poking our eyes out at a ratio higher than that of the general population, requiring eye patches to hide our disfigurement from the ladies when we're ashore (or certain gentlemen if that be what buoys yer vessel... the Captain doesn't judge.)  It's as if they think we spend all our recreational hours at sea drinking copious amounts of rum and then running around recklessly with scissors.  Which we totally don't... well, not ALL the time at any rate, but that's not the point.  The point is, anyone who knows anything about pirating knows that you keep one eye covered so that when you board your enemy's ship in broad daylight and then go below decks to seek out their gold doubloons and delicious baked goods, you just flip your eye patch to the other eye, and boom!  You've got an eye already accustomed to the darkness, so the scurvy dogs can't blindside ya!  [citation needed]  Pure pirate genius, yarrrr?  And, well, you have to admit it DOES look pretty badass...!

Happy birthday, Dr. Feynman

Richard Phillips Feynman, 5/11/18 - 2/15/88, was one of the three smartest guys of the 20th century, along with Albert Einstein and Stephen Hawking.  And of those three, he's the one your Captain would most like to split a bottle of rum with.  You can see him (and his bongo drums) in "We Are All Connected" which is in the list of links, over to the right.  Shine on, you crazy diamond... Mad Bess and the Captain send our love!

Speedy zombies

Mad Bess and myself watched 28 Days Later tonight for the 4th or 5th time... gah... if there's anything worse than regular zombies, it's speedy zombies (and I keep willing Brendan Gleeson not to rile up that damn crow, but he always does... what an idiot.) 

A day that will live in infamy

Arrrr, mateys!  T'was the eighth of May, in the year of our Lord nineteen hundred and ninety-eight, that Mad Bess and Captain Jack first clapped eyes upon each other, at a rat-infested, plague-ridden port of call known as Sanford Airport (you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy) and after a voyage of a thousand leagues across the stormy north Atlantic, what was the first thing Bess did when she made landfall?  She mocked your Captain's fine straw hat, festive tropical shirt, and fashionable short trousers!  And the rest, as they say, is history!

"We Bought A Zoo"

Mad Bess, the more discerning cats, and your Captain watched a surprisingly good movie tonight called We Bought A Zoo.  It has him from the Bourne films, her from The Prestige, him from Wristcutters, and him what plays an elf in Fred Claus who is also one of the gay guys in Best of Show (and if you have not seen that movie, then shame on you!)... he's one of these actors where you see him and you go, "Hey!  It's that guy!  From that movie!  It's... it's that guy!!"  I still don't know his name.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1389137/ 

That being said, We Bought A Zoo made us laugh, cry, squeeze each other's hands, care about most of the characters, and come away from it all agreeing, "Yep, that's a keeper."  Plus it had a lovely grizzly bear who looked just like our Cato, a beautiful tiger who looked exactly like our G-Dawg, and a very cute Capuchin monkey who wore clothes just like he was people (which automatically adds ten points to any movie, of course.)  This, along with a white pizza from Country Pizza Inn, added up to a winning combination, heartily recommended by your feebleminded Captain Jack!

Cato

Back in 2001, we picked up a mangy flea-bitten heartworm-ridden chow-chow mix who was trotting down a nearby street dragging 6 feet of telephone cable behind him.  No one ever claimed him, so we kept him, successfully treated his heartworm, and called him Cato.  A year ago today we found Cato on his "Coolaroo" hammock-bed, having apparently passed away peacefully in his sleep.  He's buried in the garden next to his best friend Barry.  Got a candle burning for him now on the desk next to me.  Miss you, you big lovely dumbass...

In a perfect world...

When your Captain were just a wee lad of eleven, he and his kid sister went door to door collecting signatures for a petition to stop the Canadian seal hunt.  That were a score and seventeen years past, and yet the slaughter goes on.  If you mateys want to help stop this abomination, then set sail for http://www.ifaw.org/us/our-work/savingseals to learn more about what you can do.  In the meantime, this picture is what Captain Jack dreams of happening one day... I always knew we could count on the polar bears!

 

"Captain Jack, do I have a pirate name?"

Arrrr, every man-jack (and woman-jill) of ye has a pirate name!  Just set sail for http://www.piratequiz.com/ and answer the questions (be sure to tell the truth now or I'll have your guts for garters!)  Once you know your pirate name, stop by and say, "Ahoy!"  Mad Bess and myself like to know who we're sailin' with!

Thirteen years of pillaging and plundering together

Arrrr, mateys!  T'was indeed 13 years ago that Mad Bess and your Captain pledged, under the eyes of God and Cthulhu, to permanently ally our cutlasses and sail the seven seas together till one or both of us rests in Davy Jones' locker.  Today we celebrated by plundering Last Chance Thrift Store... we had a coupon for 50% off everything, so we'd have been idiots not to... and while Bess and I may be many things, idiots we are not! 

Afterward I drew my cutlass (and by cutlass I mean credit card) and stormed Bawarchi restaurant, making off with their cargo of delicious Indian grub.  Meanwhile, Mad Bess kept the S.S. Magnum idling, for a quick getaway (that is, it was idling so the air conditioner would stay running... after all, the humidity here in the Horse Latitudes is less than pleasant, ya scurvy dogs!)  Later we enjoyed the spoils of our raid, with a hearty bottle of grog (Almaden Moscato, purchased plundered from Publix) whilst watching Live Free or Die Harrrrd.  Aye, t'was truly an anniversary that would make any pirate proud!

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"One day, mateys... one day..."



Remembering friends

Just wanted to take a moment to remember yet more friends who will be waiting for Mad Bess and myself at the Rainbow Bridge...

April 26 would have been Taffy's 25th birthday.  Taffy was a grey squirrel with razor-sharp teeth who I never actually had the pleasure (?) of meeting, though Bess spent many quality months with him, bottle-feeding him, raising him from a baby, and fondly recalls the times he bit through the flesh of her fingers "right to the bone"... aww... what a little imp!  Even after he grew up and she released him, he kept coming back to her, presumably because he had a taste for human blood.  He lived to be six years old, which is actually pretty good for a squirrel in the wild... Bess' blood must have nourished him particularly well.

April 25 would have been Sam's 15th birthday.  Sam (whose registered name was Jemchipsa Skytarget) was a purebred Ocicat, and was one of the six cats that Mad Bess brought with her from Blighty when she fell for your Captain's quirky yet apparently irresistible charms.  How can one sum up Sam in a single blog entry?  Can't be done.  One of his many aliases was Mr. Moleskin because of his unusually smooth coat texture.  He had approximately 50 other aliases describing the many facets of his looks and absolutely unique personality, too numerous to even touch on here.  For instance, he liked to open cupboard doors, climb inside, and sit silently in the dark for half an hour or so, staring into space, just chillin', having a bit of a meditate.  He had "territorial issues" which no amount of medication seemed to alleviate (which is all Nicky's fault but we won't open that can of worms right now... will we, Nicky?... Will we???)  Sam didn't say, "Meow," like a normal cat... instead he said, "Muhhh!" in a voice I've never heard any other cat use.  He just wanted to be a friend to all the other cats, even the few who for some reason shunned him, and liked nothing better than cuddling up with them on the sofa or wherever.  Sam died at the far-too-young age of 11 because of a blood clot... I can still feel his silky moleskin fur though.  Later, buddy.

Maximilian Schell: Hollywood's Creepiest Father Figure?

Mad Bess and I watched Deep Impact tonight, for the third time... took us back to the dawn of our dating days and made us both cry and all, just as it did both times before.  Also Robert Duvall proves he is just as much a stone cold badass action hero as Bruce Willis, Harrison Ford, or Liam Neeson (OK, maybe not Liam Neeson, but ol' Bobby does his best in this film, God love him!)  Seriously though, Hollywood, could you not have found someone less creepy and sinister than Maximilian Schell to play the protagonist's estranged father, who we are apparently supposed to empathize with?  Yeesh... I kept expecting him to reveal that he had engineered the whole comet disaster scenario as part of his world domination strategy, he comes across so much like a damn Bond villain!  He and James Cromwell should have traded roles; if I were Tea Leoni I'd much rather spend my dying moments hugging affable James Cromwell than creepy old Max Schell!  Gah!!

Daddy!

"If onlys and justs were candies and nuts, then every day would be Erntedankfest." -- Dwight Schrute

If only I had just remembered to plunder some raw cashew nuts from Wright's Nutrients on my way home from work, then I could have roasted them and been eating them right now and it would be like Erntedankfest in April.  But sadly your captain is an idiot and so is going to bed hungry.  It's just that they're so much better than the salty oily expensive canned ones (Planter's, etc.) that I can't bring myself to buy, sorry, PLUNDER, those inferior commercially-packed ones anymore since I tried roasting the plain raw ones myself... sorry, just no comparison.  Try 'em... you'll see what I mean!

Captain, we've sighted Friskies!

Put a fair few nautical miles on the S.S. Magnum this evening, sailing from Dollar General to Dollar General, plundering their booty of Friskies cat food (and by plundering I mean taking advantage of this week's particularly good coupon offers.)  Got some sweet deals on air freshener and hair dye too, matey!  Arrrrr!!!  Mad Bess Feral and I celebrated by plundering (i.e., paying full price for) delicious veggie subs from Subway, and watching Calendar Girls (which was of course filmed in Bess's native Yorkshire.) 

The remarkable thing was, the checkout girl at the first Dollar General that I plundered this evening, and the checkout guy at the Walgreens (which I happened to plunder some hair spray, Pepsi, and sinus medicine from) BOTH complimented me on my "Tesla Is My Co-Pilot" shirt, which Mad Bess designed and uploaded to Cafepress and presented to me for my birthday a year or two ago.  They were, like, the fourth and fifth people that I had ever met in my life who knew who the hell Nikola Tesla was!  It seems that the schools are FINALLY acknowledging Tesla's contributions to science and technology, nearly 70 years after his death... so SUCK IT, EDISON!!!

We don't need no noisy firearms...

If you're anything like me, then you're constantly getting into long-winded discussions about what weapon would be most desirable when the inevitable zombie apocalypse finally happens. It's kind of surprising to me that so many people still favour firearms, even though we've spent the better part of two years seeing what kind of havoc Daryl can wreak among the undead with his crossbow (which is quiet so it doesn't attract more of them, unlike guns which draw them from miles around!) Plus, ain't nobody manufacturing ammo anymore, yo (the workers all staged a shamble-out in case you hadn't heard) but you can always fashion your own bolts/quarrels from whatever is around, and even reuse them if you're careful about open cuts and whatnot. That said, I think this dude has come up with the weapon I would most like to have when everything goes to shit... a repeating crossbow (like the Chinese had 2400 years ago but not as accurate as theirs)... with some refinement and practice I think it would be a very effective (and stealthy) weapon against the walkers, especially if we're in this for the long haul (and you KNOW we will be)...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lR0FXZe2_64

Bonnie

26 years ago today I said goodbye to my beloved foxhound-collie mix, Bonnie… what a sweet girl… hope that Rainbow Bridge has some strong supports because there’s going to be an awful lot of my friends waiting there…

Thomasina

About 8 years ago three kittens were born under our house.  Two of them (Blackie and Mean Eye) are living in our back yard "Serengeti Preserve" but we were never able to catch the third one.  We called him Thomasina because we originally thought he was a girl, but even after we found out he was a boy, the name stuck because he was so timid and gentle.  He often stopped by our yard to eat, and whenever a new female cat would show up with a litter of kittens, he would care for the babies and guard them when the mom was away; it didn't matter whether they were his or not, he loved them regardless.

Last Saturday, Mrs. Feral and I got to stroke Thomasina's fur for the first time... he had been killed by a car.  We buried him in the garden next to his mother Thumbelina, half-sister Yoda (also hit by a car) and fellow feral Mangy.  See you at the Rainbow Bridge, my dear gentle friend...

 

Nirrti

Nirrti and her three brothers were born under our house in 2006.  When they were old enough to walk, we captured them and their feral mother, and she raised them in our spare bedroom.  The mother cat now lives in our cat-fenced back yard “preserve” while Nirrti and her two surviving brothers live in the house.

Even though I had known Nirrti since she was about three weeks old, for the first few years of her life she was inexplicably terrified of me.  If I so much as made eye contact with her, she would cringe, squint her eyes, and race away into another room to hide.  I never understood why, since I had never done her any harm.

Then came the day Nirrti was diagnosed with megacolon, which would require “pilling” twice a day… surely an impossible task with this cat!  Nevertheless, it had to be done, and eventually I was able to catch her and pop the capsules down her throat (mainly because she was frozen in terror, that first day!)

After the first couple of days, however, a strange thing happened:  Nirrti stopped being afraid.  Within a week, she not only quit running away from me, but actually started letting me pick her up and cuddle her for the first time ever… apparently she viewed having pills shoved down her throat as an enjoyable bonding experience!

Today Nirrti is a big fat fluffy happy cat.  She never tries to spit her pills out -- this has earned her the nickname “Daddy’s Best Girl” (much to my wife’s amusement!)  If I sit on the floor, she’ll waddle over and curl up on my lap or drape her great bulk across my legs… quite a change from the feral who ran away in terror every time I glanced in her direction, and all it took was a life-threatening health disorder!  Thanks, megacolon!

Pictured: Abject terror