Ask Cap'n Slappy - The Archives

Cap'n Slappy's Greatest Hits

When we were kicking around ideas for this site, somebody suggested "hey, how about a pirate advice column?" We figured it would generate a few "Dear Abby"-style letters and be good for a few giggles. We - well, especially Mark, who volunteered to answer the things - weren't ready for the onslaught of questions, comments and quips that would pour in from readers, on subjects ranging from pirate talk, customs and attitude to love, romance and just plain silliness. We received literally hundreds of questions, and Cap'n Slappy did his level best to answer every one of them. Like almost everything else about International Talk Like A Pirate Day, the response to "Ask Cap'n Slappy" has exceeded our wildest dreams.

In cleaning things up for a new year, we've pulled out some of our favorite "Ask Cap'n Slappy" questions and responses to preserve for posterity (or at least the Internet version of posterity). Enjoy!



Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Inquiring minds want to know ... how did ye earn yer nick, Capn? Jest what were ye slappin?

- Anon.


I were elected Cap'n by a jury o' me peers after spending a week beatin' the rest o' the lads with me fists and forehead. That seemed to perk things up around the ship and everyone got on famously after.

"Slappy" was the dog's name, and me Ma wasn't sure I was hers.

Have a Lusty Talk Like a Pirate Day!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,


- Mad Tom

Dear Tom,

Aye. Yar.

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Arrr!!! Arrr!!! Arrrr!!! ARRR??

- Anon.

Aye, ye were right to question that last "ARRR." Three "Arrrrs" makes yer point just fine, that last one (all in capital letters no less) was simply ostentatious.

Take delight in simplification,

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Do you buckle your swash or swash your buckler?

- Cap'n Sparky

Dear Cap'n Sparky,

That's a rather personal question, but, since this is "Ask Cap'n Slappy" I feel compelled to answer. I, in fact, SWASH my BUCKLE twenty minutes a day as prescribed by our ship's physician, but lately ... I have felt more like BUCKLING my SWASH. Perhaps it is my advanced years and the intensity of decades of SWASHING my BUCKLE have taken their toll, but I just don't SWASH like I used to. I can still BUCKLE, though and I will do so as long as the SWASH holds, the rum flows and the Wench keeps her sense of humor and fair play.

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Why are 16 men on a dead man's chest? And what's the deal with the bottle of rum, anyway? Are they drinking it? Or did it kill the poor guy who now has 16 men on his chest? What gives here, Cap'n?

-- Edmund Fitzgerald

Dear Fitz,

The lyrics to this popular pirate tune have always been unsettling to me as well. For one thing, there is no way that sixteen pirate asses could fit on a dead man's chest. The seating space, even for a very large chest and very small asses would accomodate only four ... maybe five. But let's say that the pirates are standing on the chest. With a one-footed group stand while they held other pirates on their shoulder, you could conceivably get sixteen pirates stacked on the man's chest. This would explain him being dead. The bottle of rum might have lead to the man saying, "Hey, you sixteen pirates! I bet you can't all stand on my chest at once!" The answer to, "what gives?" would be, "Clearly, his sternum."

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Do you have to have a Parrot to be a pirate or talk like one??

- Anon

Ahoy Parrot-head!

It's "Talk Like a Pirate" day, NOT "Talk Like a Parrot" day! The parrot is as much a part of Talk Like a Pirate Day as it would be at a Jimmy Buffet concert. Nice set dressing, but it doesn't make the songs any sweeter! The best parrots are the "stuffed/dead" ones. Unless you like to dress in newsprint.

Could you imagine "Talk Like a Parrot Day?" People would be gutting each other in the streets. "STOP REPEATING WHAT I SAY IN THAT HIGH NASAL VOICE! YOU #*#@($)#@!!!" people would say just before slitting you open with their cutlass.

Now, if you have a parrot, that's great! Treat them with care and they will be great gifts for your great grand children, but for the love of Neptune, leave them in their cages on September 19. And for Jimmy's sake, don't take them to the concert!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Could you explain the term parlé to me? (par-lay) or however u spell it!

- Ryan Wolfe

Now, Cap'n Slappy is no cunning linguist, but that sure sounds like "Froggy talk" to Cap'n Slappy. Steve Martin, noted comedian and semi- closeted pirate, once observed that "the French have a different word for EVERYTHING!" However, we pirates stole their toast, their bread, their doors, their fries and their cut bikinis and still, we have not mastered their tongue, except for in the "kissing" thing. Cap'n Slappy is world renown for his "Froggy Kisses." He can snap a tonsil like a frog snaps a bug on a lilly pad. Oh, yeah, the wenches in many ports tell tales of the Cap'n's tongue dexterity.

Oh, in response to your query, "Parlez'" means to talk, but only if you have something interesting to say, otherwise, surrender your ship and your wenches and prepare for a good tongue-lashing.

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

What does Port and Starboard mean ?

- LaJaynes H. Dupuy

Ahoy LaJaynes!

If ye be standing on a ship (or a boat) and looking toward the bow (the "pointy-pointy" part) then the "Port" would be on your left side and the "Starboard" would be on your right side. To your back is the "stern" or the "poop." And for all of ye lubbers out thar what don't know ... All that greenish-bluish-grey, bouncy stuff around the boat be "water."

Now, take your sea-sick pills

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Which do you prefer, Cap'n, lootin' or plunderin'?

- Cap'n McPitterPat

Arrr! Good Question, Cap'n McPitterPat!

Some days I feels like lootin'. Some days I feels like plunderin'. Some days I feels like beating someone senseless with me fists and forehead. And some days I just feels, "not so fresh."

But ne'er a day goes by that I don't feel like getting blistering drunk and playing "Full Contact Scrabble!"

Thar be a triple word score and a belayin' pin to the noggin here fer all!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

What is the best way to rape wenches?

- First mate Philth


You are hereby demoted to "Barnacle Scrape-Boy, Second Class." Cap'n Slappy has been over and over this. Take your Depo Provera with a saltpeter chaser and get your mind off "raping." There is NO BEST WAY to RAPE ANYONE! DO NOT RAPE PEOPLE. DO NOT ASK CAP'N SLAPPY TO CONDONE IT! DO EXPECT A VIOLENT BEATING WITH CAP'N SLAPPY'S FISTS AND FOREHEAD IF YOU DO IT. (Capitals for yelling, I am not trying to emphasize anything.)

Now, maroon yourself on an island for one until you can learn to be nice.

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

What do you call a dishonest pirate?


I believe the word ye’re lookin’ for be, “Pirate.” The only exception to this is when a pirate is dishonest with Cap’n Slappy – then the word is, “Corpse.”

- Cap'n Slappy


Ahoy, Cap'n!

What be yer professional advice on namin' me ship?

- Mad Cap'n (t' be) Amy o' the ???

The secret to a good ship name be in findin' the right chord to strike fear and/or nausea into yer enemy. I likes the names what look like they be goin' one way and end up goin' t'another. Startin' with a word like "Golden" one gets the idea of something very nice and expensive-like. But if ye follow it up with something as repulsive as "Nasal Polyp" then ye have somethin' else altogether.

Arrr! The Golden Nasal Polyp be a great name fer a ship!

- Cap'n Slappy

[Or a rock band. -- The WebWench]

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Me and a close friend of mine have been going through the name list you've provided. After scouring this list profusely, and stumbling across the names at the end. We have decided we want to marry you. Would this be at all possible?

- Dweezil Zappa

P.S. Yes, we are male, no, we are not homosexual, but your obvious Pirattitude has drawn us to you.

Ahoy Dweezil!

Don't get me wrong - I'm touched, really. But Cap'n Slappy is not the marryin' kind o' pirate. No single soul can possess me! Not even a couple o' souls!

Now, perhaps the entire University o' Nebraska marching band could possess me - what with their close order marching and brassiness, but that's about what it would take - the University o' Nebraska marching band ... and perhaps the swing shift waitresses at the Columbus, Ohio "Hooters."

But we'll always have that time ye wrote me and asked me about marriage.


Cap'n Slappy

Ahoy Cap'n Slappy,

Greetin's an' fair winds. I've myself a bit o' a vexin' problem, an' write to you in hopes o' solvin' it (One doesn't ask the Cap'n for nothing). Pirate grammatical formaltities apart, I do have a problem. Apart from various pirates with the unique name of Jack Sparrow, I've also encounter many ships christened The Black Pearl. For small and trivial reason, this is vexing to me.

I write with a small list of suggestions for ship names. People may use any they choose, any combination and or variation thereof, but for the love of the gods, can we try and get people to stop with The Black Pearl? The following are suggestions:

If you can't tell, I have a slight penchant for snakes, drinking, and a good bit of mischief.

Smooth sailing,

Testy Trasan the Flexible Wench (As so dubbed by me mates), of the Sweet Poison

You do sound horribly vexed!

All of your suggestions are splendid names for ships indeed. In addition, I might suggest that folks dig up this part of the human psyche long suspected to be dead in the human animal - it's called, "An Imagination." Thankfully, yours is fully functional. Me own ship, The Festering Boil, is only one in a long line o' ships named after unpleasant skin conditions.

But people like formula in their creative process (which basically means ol' Cap'n Slappy has to do the work) so I have developed a mix and match method of determining their personalized ship’s name. And all one must do is know the answer to two childhood-based questions; What was your first pet’s name? What animal do you WISH your pet had been? Placing “The” before the name of one’s ship is optional – but it does say to the world, “Thar be only ONE o’ these!!

We will use the first letter of your first pets name to determine the first word in your ship’s name:

And we will use first letter of the animal you which your pet had been to determine your ship’s last name.

Have fun figuring out YOUR ship’s name based on this and tell me if you still want to go with “Sweet Poison.”

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Why did God make lubbers?

- Sincerely, Frustrated Swashbuckler

Ahoy Frustrated Swasher!

The Good Lord made lubbers for the same reason He made bears and fish and worms: The food chain needs links. Thar be some "lubbers" over thar! It's dinner time!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

What do pirates eat?

- Jack Sparrow

Well, Jack, yer name is fairly close.

We eats lots of sparrows or any other bird or its eggs that nests in our masts. We also eat all manner of fish, oranges and chunks of wood. Our friends at Purina have put all of those great tastes together in Purina Pirate Chow. It keeps our coats shiny and our teeth pearly white!

Ol' Chumbucket once bit off Mad Jack McConnel's nose and ate it. Then, to add insult to injury he shouted, "And just what are you and your friends going to pick now, Mad Jack?" That Chumbucket has a brutal sense of the poetic and the profane.

Thanks for asking such a terrific question little Jack Sparrow. What an unusual name! We have only had one or two thousand folks write questions using that particular moniker!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

How do I become a wench?

- Anon.

Dear would-be Wench.

Being a Wench is more a matter of "choice" than actually becoming something. If ye be a woman who likes adventure and bein' all saucy and such, ye may well be a wench!

But the choice is always yours

- Cap'n Slappy

Ahoy! Captain Slappy,

What's your advice on oceans? Which ocean be t'best t'be a pirate on? I'm movin' see, so I need somewhere I can sail like t'scurvy dog I am.


- Scarlett O'Bannon, Captain o' the Soarin' Sparrow

Dear Miss Scarlett

Well, If I HAVE to vote, I would vote FOR oceans!

As fer which one is the best fer pirate-like behavior, I would go with the one that has rich trade routes, fine ports to ransack and is light in the "Patroled by Pirate Hunters" department. We've had plenty of folks braggin' about how beautiful it is in and around New Zealand and Australia. So ... head on down the the Indian Ocean! Just don't tell 'em "Cap'n Slappy sent me!" No need to advertise that, now.

- Cap'n Slappy


I be wonderin' why Pirates always use t' same flag? don't they have thier own colorst' fly? Mayhaps You might help the silly lubbers out an' suggest a few.

-- Cap'n Blood Bath & Beyond [Best pirate name EVER! - The Webwench]

Ahoy Cap'n Blood Bath & Beyond!

Pirates DO have many different flags! We have links on our site that will take you to folks who know the complete history of Jolly Roger Design. It's something like "Pirate Eye For the Flag Guy!" Ol' Calico Jack Rackham had the popular skull with crossed swords beneath. Eddie "Blackbeard" Teach had a skeleton spearing a bleeding heart. But every major pirate had their own design.

Some of the less popular Jolly Roger incarnations include:

Mad Maggie McCork flew a flag with a blood-red field featuring a skeleton in a squat position giving the world the "double bird" with two skinny middle fingers.

William "Whoopsie-boy" Masters' Jolly Roger was a little something he bought from an artist in Japan. It had a chartreuse field and what appeared to be the earliest prototype for Hello Kitty.

Silly Sam d'Saucepan who flew a Jolly Roger that featured a box of Milk Duds on a pale green field with the motto, "I'll give ye cavities!"

Andrew Bolton wanted to go with a traditional skull-inspired design, but his mother said that it wouldn't do so she sewed him the only quilted Jolly Roger which pictures a young Andy holding hands with his mother. The motto read, "Mommy and Me!"

*Historical Footnote* When Andrew was captured and sentenced to hang, he danced up the steps to the gallows, thanked the hangman for his "sweet release from the iron apron strings" and, with the rope firmly around his neck, jumped off the gallows instead of waiting for the trap door to open. His mother, who was there, complained that he was always, "in such a rush!"

So ye see, Cap'n Blood Bath & Beyond, each pirate had their own flag with its own story! So, what would yours be?

- Cap'n Slappy

ahoy thar slappy!

ive got a question fer ye that i need answered smartly. fer halloween this year im goin as a pirate. i was wonderin what kinda things im gonna need to be successful and look me best i need to show off fer me lass's i already have one-o them eye patches so that i can say i was thrown over board in a mutiny and saved meself from the eye-bitin sharks, and i have a pirate hat ... i also have a fake grey beard like those i think me pirate role models would have worn when they shaved for a beautiful lass but didnt want to tell theyr mates but what else do i need to comlete me costume? i need to look good fer me lass's arr...

- yer loyal reader and ship mate

Aye, Loyal Reader!

It be about time for "Cap'n Slappy's Pirate Paraphernalia Checklist:"

And that's about all ye need. If ye be planin' on dancin' or drinkin' leave yer sword at home ... we want the date to last for the evenin' now, don't we?

- Cap'n Slappy

Hello Capt. Slappy,

How does a pirate say goodbye? I thought fare-thee-well was OK, but not according to my American Heritage Dictionary. It's for a retirement party (with a pirate theme).

- One-eye

Farewells for Pirates depend on the relationship of the speaker to the leaver. In the case of a retirement party where, I am assuming, the majority of people will have a fondness for the leaver the typical, "shove off" will not do. I suggest, "Set Sail, me matey!" Or, the more romantic, "Follow that star and on toward the morning!" or even, "Set a course for the horizon!"

However, if ye be just as happy to be rid o' the ol' salt, ye could say, "Off ye go, lad. The plank's not gettin' any longer!" or "This is where we part ways, sorry we couldn't be bothered to get you closer to shore."

But in general, a simple, "Off ye go, now!" will suffice.

Hope that helps.

- Cap'n Slappy

Cap'n Slappy

Cap'n Its me again was there really a pirates code and if so what was it?

- The Hawk

Ahoy again, Hawk!

It's not so much a "code" as a set of guidelines.

- Cap'n Slappy


Ahoy, Matey!

How do you even be a pirate? Will you be my Cap'n? Pirates are very awesome - I wish I could be one! Do you shoot whales? Do you catch fish? Do you try to shoot dolphins? Good-bye,

- Cap'n Slappy

- Miss Emily

P.S. - I am 6 years old.

Ahoy Miss Emily!

There are some things in life you become just by saying you are and then acting like you are. "Friends" is one. "Good Student" is another. "Pirate" is kind of like that, too.

But Cap'n Slappy is more of a "Pirate-Guy." And while I do catch fish, I don't shoot whales or dolphins. Cap'n Slappy likes to eat fish, and he likes to look at whales and dolphins. So, no shooting whales, dolphins or people!

And before you read ANYTHING else on this web site, you should have your mommy or daddy take a good look at it. (Most of what we have here is for adults and MUCH older kids).

Thank you for writing! (You write better than most of the adults who write to Cap'n Slappy!)

- Cap'n Slappy

Ahoy Cap'n Slappy,

Sorry it's been so long since I last wrote (I know ye LIVE to reply to would-be pirates tryin' t' develop their piratitude). I know it's been a while but I've been piratin' down in the Antarctic ocean (where we clubbed to death bucket-loads of strange black and white pygmies who are so hardened to the extreme cold that they actually go swimmin') and the pigeons don't fly too well when their wings ice over.

I actually have a question fer ye about seamanship (no, not that kind, ye dirty-minded seadog) that me sort-of friend, the crappily-named Cap'n Billabong, asked and I be so impressed with yer explanation of the origin of the Jolly Roger that I decided that if anyone could make up, I mean research, a plausible explanation it would be ye.

Here be the question:

Why do we pirate-folk and other seafaring types use the terms port and starboard instead o' the lubber terms left and right? And while we be on the topic, is it "fore and aft" or "stern and aft", and why do we use those terms instead of front and back? I be havin' me own theory but it involves a blind cat, a piece of camembert cheese and 4 barrels o' rum, and the general consensus of those who've heard it is that it be a load of codswallop (that bein' the wallop o' a cod). Still, I be stickin' to it fer now! So that's me question.

In other news, I've noticed that there be a bit of a population explosion of pirate cap'ns but I haven't noticed a corresponding increase in the number of first mates, cabin boys, cooks, galleyhands and the like. I be startin' to worry that we'll have to start crewin' our ships with other pirate cap'ns. Can ye imagine the problems it would cause? WELL... CAN YE??? I can, and it keeps me awake at night; or maybe it's the scurvy fever I've developed.

Anyway, if ye could give me an answer to the port/starboard/fore/stern/aft/left/right/front/back conundrum I'd be grateful.

'Til we meet again on the high seas, may yer hook stay as sharp as yer wit and yer wooden leg be well treated with Termicide.

Cap'n Stench O' The Gangrenous Scab

P.S. If ye send me a response, could ye also return Herbert (me pigeon that ye abducted). Although I be a hard, heartless pirate, I miss the little fella.

Ahoy Cap'n Stench!

First I'll deal with the directional words and then on to The Cap'n Question:

When the Vikings (or as me cousin from Wisconsin calls 'em, "The ViQUEENS!") built their long ships, they loaded up on the left hand side o' the ship what faced the dock - or "Port" side and since custom determined that it was good luck to begin a maiden voyage at night, the right side o' the ship faced a star-filled sky. Therefore, moving from the left to right was going "port-board to star-board." Of course, the Vikings spoke perfect English and looked like Tony Curtis.

The "fore and aft" and "stem to stern" question comes straight from England where sailors in the south always used "fore and aft" while the Scotsmen used "stem to stern" - just imagine Sean Connery saying "stem to stern" - that sounds like him, doesn't it? Of course, our own Cementhands McCormack (an Irishman, don't ye know) says, "From the pointy part to the pooper!" He, of course, is right. Any sailor can get caught up in the "fore and aft" and "stem to stern" debate, but ye cannot argue with a big man what says, "The Pointy-Pointy to the Pooh-Pooh-Pi-Do!" Doc Burgess, a man who thinks facts are important argued with him once - ONCE. Being a man of research and discovery, he never argued again and we've all been better for it.

Now, I am sure that someone who enjoys the REAL history of words will have some apoplectic fit over me history or nautical directions, but I'd suggest he take it up with the McCormack.

As for all them "Cap'ns" runnin' around out thar, ye'll have to trust Darwinian theory for that. When they've destroyed all of their feeding resources some will starve, some will de-evolve into Barnacle Scrappers Second Class and others will rise above the fray into a new breed o' Pirate Cap'ns. Let's call it Uber-Cap'n - and remember it was me what coined the phrase. I've written about it in me up-comin' book, "Cap'n and Uber-Cap'n." Reserve yer copy at Barnes and Noble dot com, now!

Ye'll find that this note is attached to yer beloved Herbert. Sorry about the staple. Now leave them penguins alone!

Yer Piratical Buddy,

- Cap'n Slappy

If I may add a philological note to your response on port and starboard (you will recognize, of course, that I'm making this up as I go along, because that's my style) I am guessing that you use port and starboard on ship for the same reason you might tell a person to look east or west - because they don't change. They refer to the left and right OF THE SHIP. The left side of the ship is always port, the right side of the ship always starboard, no matter which direction you happen to be facing at the moment. Imgine for instance that you're perched in the bow of the ship, looking back at the person you're speaking to, who is staring forward. Suddenly, a flag on the horizon catches your eye and you say, "Look left! It's the British Navy!" Because you are facing each other, your left is the opposite of the left of the person to whom you are speaking. It could cause confusion, possibly even calamity. (OK, I think you also have to imagine that you have no fingers to point with and are somehow totally immobilized so that you can't turn or even gesture with your head or eyes.) "Reef ahead! Turn right!" Whose right? But if you say, "Look off the starboard bow!" then both of you know which way to look, because the the ship's left and right don't change, except in some weird Twilight Zone kind of scenario. I liked the episode with Wally Cox a lot. Still gives me nightmares sometimes. Yours lexicologically!

- Ol' Chumbucket

As always, Our good friend, Ol' Chumbucket gives us helpful, meaningful and actual information of a "fact-friendly" nature. Of course, he completes it with the obligatory "Wally Cox" reference so as to confuse the young'ns who should be in bed already!

- Cap'n Slappy

Hey Captain Slappy,

I Was wondering what do you do with a drunken sailor early in the morning?! And is Cap'n Crunch a pirate?

- Captain M Bones

Ahoy Captain M. Bones (Ye be movin' up in the world)

Some folks think ye ought to "throw 'im in a long boat till he's sober." But I likes to "arrange him in a compromisin' position with the ship's goat" and have our ship's artist in residence make a humorously incriminatin' charcoal sketch o' his drunken deed.

As for me ol' pal, Cap'n Crunch, we did go to the naval academy together back in the day but he took his pretty boy good looks to Hollywood where he landed the job as a spokesman for a cereal company. A true friend would have thrown his chum a bone - but not ol' Crunchy-baby. He went all Hollywood and won't return anyone's calls. Bastard.

But, no - he is no pirate.

And thanks for bringin' it up.

- Cap'n Slappy

Aye Capt. Slappy-

How be ye, matie? Me has a jolly ask of ye. Why thur be such a code, when true pirates, We diablos, Have sepratatable "codes" ya have it thar matie. Cacth me drift? Avast, Prolly ne?

- Of, Capt. Z

Ahoy Capt. Z,

I am truly not sure if I "cacth" yer drift.

But first things first. let's fix yer piratical pronoun - and the rest o' ye out thar, pay attention, I'm only gonna be doin' this about five or six thousand more times.

The use of "me" instead o' "I" when the personal pronoun is the subject o' the sentence would be more fittin' to "Talk Like Thag the Caveman Day!" "Me" doesn't have a "jolly ask of ye," - "I" do! Now, ye use the possessive form "me" instead o' "my" - which ye do just fine in "Catch me drift?" Which, of course, I don't.

These "sepratatable" codes o' which ye speak, are they for "true pirates" or "we diablos?" And just who the hellfire and brimstone are these "diablos" of whom ye speak? Devils? Or fanciers of any number of the deviled food groups (i.e. devilled eggs, devilled Ham, or Devil's food cake?) that bear the name on account of their devillishly delicious flavor?

Certainly, if thar be a code that's been abused, it is language itself. If I talk it into surrenderin' will ye ease up on the torture o' it?

With nothin' but love for all!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Capn Slappy,

I've noticed that lots of pirates have been getin there names from P.O.T.C. ( Pirates of the Caribbean ) How do you feel about this name takin?

-- Capn M Bones

Ahoy Bonesy me ol' pal!

Last year Ol' Cap'n Slappy fielded about three hundred questions from folks who went by the name "Sparrow" in some form or other. But in the interest o' diversity, let me suggest a few names that me faithful readers may use as freely as they please - and PLEASE, use anything but "Sparrow."



Just a wee suggestion for those lookin' for pirate names...

-- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

I am a clinical psychologist in Texas. We have a doctoral level psychologist on the Child and Adolescent Unit here who has become obsessed with TLAP over the past several years, buying Pirattitude buttons for everyone, a cutlass and eyepatch, making up names for people, and inventing a wholly fictitious ship, the "Whistling Teratoma", which, if you know anything about rare tumors is rather disgusting. As TLAP day approaches he can be heard by visitors down the hallways saying "Arr!". Sometimes, when he hits the wrong key on his computer he bursts forth with a salty oath that would make Popeye blush. He even converted the point programs on the unit to piratical themes. This week he went down the hallways putting post it notes on everyone's office door that simply say "Arr!" and he has plastered posters all about the place letting people know how many days until...

Increasingly he will only respond when people address him as "Blood Blister Billy". Even worse, almost all the kids are into it: from age 6 up to 17! They stride about all over the place yelling "Arr! and making pirate hats out of newspapers. Staff might find it more amusing, except that they have too often been cast as the "Spaniards" or the "Dutchmen" and have become targets for plundering. Lunches have disappeared. Wallets are missing. Anything not lashed down just seems to get up and walk away, if you know what I mean.

We haven't coined a name for this obsessive-compulsive like disorder yet, but we have done several "interventions" and unsuccessfully tried a 12-step recovery program for him. After much struggle we were able to get him to grudgingly admit that he is powerless before TLAP, but he spits, swears and says Arrr!...all the way through the rest of the entire 12 step recitation. He is not actually delusional or psychotic so the other meds won't work.

He has stopped bathing, ordered a peg leg, and one of the social workers interrupted him in the kitchen during a watermelon festival last week when it was clear he was about to cut off his hand...presumably to replace it with a hook. Right now he is busily transcribing all of our cognitive therapy materials on to parchment "treasure maps", as he calls them, and it just goes on and on. He really is a good psychologist, but he just loses it at this time of least until September 20th. There is no "anti-piratical" psychotropic medication available yet that we know of.

What can we do?

Yours truly,

Dr. "Elongated" John Kennedy (aka "Ship's Shrink"...I know. I shouldn't encourage it, but it is a bit fun.)

Ahoy Dr. Elongated! (Do ye mind if I calls ye, "Shrinky-dink?" It just has a nice ringy-ding to it.)

After readin' yer tome about yer widely respected colleague, I am reminded o' a fellow pirate who once put his patch on over his workin' eye. When chided about the apparent mistake by his brethren, he gazed steadily in their direction with his visible dead eye and said, "I fail to see the problem."

I'm with him.

As a mental health professional meself, let me just assure me colleagues that "Pirattitudinal Amplification Temporary Contrivance Happenings" (PATCH) are seasonal and viral in nature - it happens this time o' year and there is no cure. Ye can mitigate the symptoms as the wee ones have instinctively and lovingly demonstrated by playin' along until the fever breaks and the patient returns to their rather mundane way of life. Ye may also speed the process of healing by making sure that thar be plenty o' ale and rum on hand - it helps break the grip of "hyper-pirat'ension" and allows the patient a few hours of pirate-free sleep.

Also, buying several copies of our book, "Pirattitude" and making sure that the patient's loved ones all understand what it means will help him or her acclimate to the "regular world" from September 20th until the inevitable recurrence of symptoms next August.

We'll be ready with a new book by then.

In Collegiality,

- Cap'n Slappy, Mental Health Professional

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Who the H*** is (or was) Roger ? ? ?

as in "jolly roger"

i have been asking for years without getting an answer . . . I guess if you can't answer this, there just aint no roger.



Ahoy Joe,

Roger Tennant was a disgruntled haberdasher and experimental tailor. He is credited with designing the first “Beer Hat” which employed technology far ahead of its time – 1647. Two tankards were cleverly strapped to the wearers head and leathery tubes (made of finest sheep entrails) wound around the wearers head and led directly to the mouth. This was popular attire at bear-baiting and public hanging events.

Kendrick also pioneered the field of “T-shirt” design. While he was not a professional fashion designer, he was an enthusiastic amateur. In fact, the “T” in T-Shirt stands for “Tennant.” At the time, folks would say, “Oh! Thou art wearing a Tennant, aren’t thou?” He even began writing short saying to put on the front of his Tennant Shirts – for instance, a man’s shirt might read, “If I Told The Thou Were’t Buxom, Wouldst Thou Hold Them Against Me?” and his popular women’s Tennant Shirt – “Codpiece Inspector.” As his riches poured in, he became known for his good humor and generosity. “Jolly Roger!” the townspeople would call him.

Sadly, his career and his life came to an end when he sold a new design to the first mate of a notorious pirate – one named, “Blackbeard.” The first mate’s unfortunate Tennant Shirt depicted a finger pointing to the wearer’s right with a sign that read, “I Bee Withe STUPID!” and he showed the bad planning to wear the offending shirt when the whole crew was posing for their annual woodcut engraving – and, of course, the first mate stood to Blackbeard’s left – leaving the finger pointing directly at the tragically violent sea man.

Fortunately for the first mate, his skills were too valuable to Blackbeard to have him strung up from the mizzenmast. Unfortunately for Roger Tennant, Blackbeard was not a fan of avant-garde fashion and needed to punish someone.

But, ever the setter of trends, as “Jolly Roger’s” decaying skeleton dangled from the heights of the pirate ship – other pirates who couldn’t afford an actual haberdasher and experimental tailor’s skeleton of their own did the next best thing – they sewed symbols of the same onto flags which they then flew to identify to all the world, “We Really Hate Novelty T-Shirts!”

Hey, it was either that story or settle for, “Nobody knows.” Which would you prefer?

- Cap'n Slappy



Advice to the Lovelorn

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

OK, so I know all about the biology. I understand about vascular constriction and lubrication and sensitivity and all that stuff. I've had the sex ed classes and understand the mechanics. There's just one question I still haven't figured out.

How do you convince her?

- Lonely swabbie

Dear Lone Swabbie,

Have we ruled out your obvious hygiene deficits? If so, there are some simple rules to follow when you are wooing a wench.

Rule #1 Never appear to be "needy." Wenches will have no respect for a pirate who begs for it. Present an aloof (but fresh smelling) air. Give her the impression that you could do without her or her kind. As a show of your aloofness, kiss a fancy lad full on the mouth and let her see you do it. Nothing screams "come-hither" like the woman who thinks ye may fancy the lads a bit too much.

Rule #2 Get in touch with the comic inside you. Wenches love to laugh. Try walking into the mizzenmast while looking another direction or slipping in chum spillage. Humor is the best knicker-removal system known to man. With the right joke or anecdote, you will have her bloomers under your bunk in no time.

Rule #3 Above all, act like you've been thar before. This is not something you learn in one of them fancy schmancy "books" with the charcoal drawings. (Although, the books are more easily put away when you are done with them.) Experience is not so nearly important as the "appearance of experience."

But first things first. Get that bath! (And would a couple of Botox injections kill you?)

- Cap'n Slappy

O Cap'n!

I once loved a pirate wench. She was a beauty. But our parents came between us. They both wanted us to tie the knot, or splice the mainbrace or something like that, and of course that meant we never wanted to see each other again. She sailed on, and is not an unprobably beautiful and happy wench while I am stuck in dry dock wondering. O Cap'n My Cap'n, whatever become of that buxom beauty?

How do I stop thinking of her, or is that impossible?

Red Willy

My Dear Ruddy Willy,

Your parents were right! She is a saucy wench and you are a man of the sea. Sure, you're well you should stay. But to stop thinking of her, do like the Cap'n does...drink heavily, sing sad songs at the night sky and play darts. Darts, lad, be the cure for love gone wrong...or just plain gone. But don't forget to drink! It will help with the singin' and make you think you're a better darts shooter than you are.

By the way, your parents have moved on without you, too. Have a nice day.

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Do girls like me?

- James

Awwwwe, Sweet Baby James!

Yes, the girls like you! They like you because you are "non-threatening" and "just like a brother to them" and "not just interested in 'one thing' like all those cute hunky boys we can't get our minds and eyes and tongues off of." You are VERY popular with the girls. They see you as just "one of them," without being "the competition."

Get used to many, many lonely years ahead, Jimmy.

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Why don't boys like meeee???

- Shelly 'Mike' Rotch-Hertz

Ahoy, "Mike?"

Most people don't know this but Cap'n Slappy has a crack team of investigators who look into these kinds of questions. They did extensive research on you, "Mike" and found that there may be one or two clues as to "why boys don't like youuuuuuu!"

Clue #1 You seem to have a "dude's" nickname. While many would find that alluring and attractive, it seems the boys you are seeking are not among them.

Clue #2 Our scientific research has found that males do not typically find themselves attracted to what appears to be a "whiney" quality to your voice. Perhaps if you tried ending the last word of your sentence, "Why don't boys like meeee???" with the more-traditional, less whiney single "e" or even the slightly agitated double "e" rather than a quadruple "e" accompanied by a battalion of question marks, you might achieve a more confident and less desperate voice. (In a related study, it was found that women can actually smell desperation on men. Scientists believe this is part of "natural selection" and should not be tampered with.)

Now, Shelly-Mike, there are a couple of things to look at. My investigators also suggested the following for your consideration.

I hope this is helpful and that as some of these minor adjustments are made, you will find the happy and healthy relationship you seek. If not, you can always get some pirate drunk and chain him up in your basement.

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Is sex really that great?

- A goddess among wenches

Ahoy Me goddess!

This is one of those "Depends" answers. And when I say "Depends," I am not talking about the disposable undergarments designed absorb human waste material for unfortunate people who have lost control of their bowels. When I say "Depends," it means that under some conditions, sex IS really that great. But these conditions seem to differ between the genders.

Let me make some broad generalizations that I will state as scientific fact.

According to a scientific study ...

Women prefer sex when it is the expression of deep-felt affection between two people who have made a commitment to love each other.

Men like to have sex anytime, anywhere with anything.

Women view sex as a deep and sacred connection between themselves and their lover.

Nine out of ten men can't remember the woman's name WHILE they are having sex with them. Seven out of ten never even knew her name.

Women have some very specific ideals for the men they choose to take as lovers.

Men will have sex with a goat or a beach ball if they can't find a woman.

Many women hope that sex will be an avenue for deepening the long-term commitment between them and their lover.

Men like to have sex. Now, please.

Women like the first time they have sex with a man to be something special. They like flowers and candles and music that will lock the moment in their memory forever.

Men like the first time they have sex with a woman to be the first of many. If not with this person, then with someone who has the same type of equipment. If not, a goat will do.

So you see, me goddess, Science can tell us much about sex, but only you can decide if it is, in fact, "great."

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

How do you get over someone? I mean completely flush someone out of your nostalgia, and everything.

- A dumped booty

Ahoy, me sad little pirate!

Thar be an old pirate sayin': "Time Heals All Wounds." Well, perhaps not all wounds. I've been waitin' for me hand, me leg and me eye to heal but they just stay separated from me. But that's more of a "break off" than a "break up."

But while I may never grow back a hand, or a leg, or an eye, or me liver, ye may grow back a heart to replace the one that's been broken. The secret, if thar be one, is to go out and have fun! I know, it's hard to do that when yer all sad and such, but believe me, little pirate, as ye force yerself to go out and continue adventurin' ye'll find that the happiness in yer life didn't have a compass pointed toward someone else. It was always in ye!

So, pick yerself up. Put a maniacal smile on yer face. Slap some weasel grease to yer wounds. Grab a weapon and get back in the fight! (Metaphorically ... don't actually grab a weapon and start fighting people.) And remember ... everyday is a new adventure and the real treasure in life isn't buried, it's right thar in front of ye. It's the NEXT THING that happens.

... just a little "Uncle Slappy" advice ...

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Capn' Slappy ,

My wife has dun let me barnacles get tarnished, I've been doin alot of me own polishing lately. I sure could use a bit of advice to get the old mast rubbed by the old wench... I already told er how beaitiful she is and stuff like that.

- Disgruntled Pirate Hubby

Dear Disgruntled,

Ye'd like to get gruntled again, wouldn't ye? Tellin her she's beautiful is a fine thing and I am sure will earn ye barnacle buffin' points but ye may want to reconsider referrin to her as "the old wench." Now, "the" is a fine article and she'll have no complaint thar. "Wench" may be taken as offensive at first, but once she knows it's just a word for "woman" she may calm down. "Old" may be whar she declared the Mast Rubbin' Reduction Act of 2003. Instead of "old" try, "Saucy" or "Sassy" or "Steamin' hot Goddess o' love"...

Ye can do it! And until ye do, she won't.

Yours for Greater Gruntledness,

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

If a pirate likes a girl how should he tell her he likes that girl? And Where should a pirate bring a girl for his dates.?

- parrot eatin pete

Ahoy Parrot Eatin' Pete!

Put the bird down and let me have a few words with ye, lad. Don't tell a girl ye like her. Just like her and let yer actions speak fer themselves. Do or don't do, lad, but don't sit around prattlin' on about it.

As fer "datin'" ... Cap'n Slappy suggests the malt shop where the juke box be playin some o' that thar rock-n-roll what's got the kids up in a tizzy these days! Or perhaps ye would prefer an evening of bowling! Ye could take along your parents and siblings and make it a family date! Perhaps one o' them moving picture shows would be nice. And get the extra big popcorn!

Or, ye could just sit in the basement of yer parents' house, watchin' anime and makin' out like thar ain't no tomorrow.

Back when I was just Midshipman Slappy we used to go sit in a "courtin' parlor" and count roses in the wallpaper. Thems was the days.

- Cap'n Slappy

Ahoy Cap'n Slappy,

I be having wench troubles. I'm involved in a triangle deadlier than the Bermuda. This particular wench is the perfect pirate pet. We plunder, loot, steal, murder, and sack are guts out. However, she's not my gf. She belongs to one of my mates (through certain circumstances I might add). Me and her are the best o'friends though. I don't know if I should tell her that I love her. I don't wanna skewer me friend, though. But I need to do something. Suggestions?

Captain Jack Sparrow

P.S. I think she actually likes me. Though I don't wanna push me luck. Cheers.

Aye! The classic "Best Friend's Girl" scenario!

Let's think this through for a moment. Let's say she DOES like ye and wants desperately to give ye a jolly good roisterin'! Then what do ye have? Ye've betrayed the friend and not just THAT friend, but all of "male-dom" from here to the ending of the world. Guys for decades to come will be able to smell fink about ye! Of course, ye will have the girl ... who after three or four months will be wondering if ye'll betray her too. Savvy, Jack? Or, ye'll wonder whenever she is plunderin' away with the few friends ye'll have left if she won't be "boardin' one of their vessels" if ye get me drift.

If ye have any respect fer yer mate, fer her or fer yerself, ye'll be a good friend to everyone and let things be. Karma is a harsh mistress, me lad!

Thar be approximately three and a half billion wenches on the planet. At least a dozen of them are "available" at any time.

Hey there, love the site.

I have a favour to ask of you guys. We are getting married on 19 September 2004. We've chartered a 60ft yacht and everyone is hiring pirate / wench wear from our local performing arts centre. Now for the favour ... could you please please please write us our vows ??? please ??? We decided we wanted a fun wedding and the pirate/wench thing seemed like a good idea. We even chose the date for no other reason than it is international talk like a pirate day. We would really appreciate it if you could help us out. Please let us know asap.


Todd and Wen

Well ye young lovers ye,

Let it not be said that Cap'n Slappy is no romantic! Here be the original wedding vows written precisely for yer up-coming nuptuals:

Pirate Wedding Vows

Groom: I, Mad Dog _______________ take ye, Saucy ______________________ as me Heart, me Soul, me Good Wench with a stout right hook, the bright dawn of each new day and the soft bed of each day's night. I promise to love ye and honor ye; to make ye laugh when yer feelin' out of sorts and pretend to listen to ye when ye babble on and on about nothin' in particular. I will protect you from the elements and the elephants should we ever encounter them as it is my understanding that they can be very large and unpredictable. I will love thee through scurvy and through fire, in wealth or poverty whether ye be near or far. And when I speak of treasure, as I am wont to do, everyone within the sound of me voice will know that what I am really speaking about is you. All of this will I undertake until there are no horizons left to chase and the rum is gone.

Bride: I, Saucy _________________ take ye, Mad Dog __________________ as me Heart, me Soul, me Salty Jack with a crooked smile, the foggy haze of each new day and the lumpy (but familiar) mattress of each day's night. I promise to love ye and honor ye; to make ye laugh so hard the rum comes out yer nose and pretend to listen to ye when ye babble on about nothin' in particular. I will protect you from my wrath and from giraffes which I understand are very tall and will sometimes step on people because they are not looking where they are stepping. I will love thee through scurvy and through fire, in wealth or poverty whether ye be near or far. And when I speak of treasure, as I am wont to do, everyone within the sound of me voice will know that I am day dreaming again. All of this will I undertake until there are no horizons left to chase and the rum is gone.

All the best, (*Pirate Sniff*)

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

I fear I may be married to a ninja! Firstly, me fella took ta dressin in black and goin round all stealth-like. Then one night I swear his flagon o' rum smelled a bit like green tea. What be a pirate lass's options in this situation?

Sage Bootygrabber

Ahoy Sage Bootygrabber!

Relax! That's no ninja! What ye have thar be one o' the Nihilists. (Basically, they're anarchists with gothic leanings - very hybrid!) Just give him a copy of Being and Nothingness by Jean-Paul Sartre and a sixteen bags of Cool Ranch Doritos and leave him alone for a couple of months. He'll get over it.

- Cap'n Slappy

aye, me matey,

how do i be makin' me beauty's first time in bed with me as 'special' as she be wantin it to be? candles n the lot be what shes wantin' i take it but any advice ye be givin' on the overall 'presentation' of the evenin?

hearty thanks to ye,

cap'n blondebeard

Ahoy Cap'n Blondebeard!

Yer question makes me hearken back to me own "first night." Twas at Sister Lucy's House o' Harsh Discipline in The Dry Tortugas! Me Ol' Man paid for a sportin' wench they called, "Gumby" as well as a team o' stunt doubles in case the whole event went south. She was flexible, I'll give her that!

But enough about me tenderized youth.

Tis me understanding that wenches like their first time to be a feast for the senses - and when I say a feast, I mean satisfying and not at all nauseating. So use this handy checklist to make sure things go "just so."

And avoid these common pitfalls for lovers:

Ye might want to tape this checklist to yer headboard - it'll be just like havin' Cap'n Slappy right there in the room with ye two kids! Like the drunken pirate love-makin' coach I be!


- Cap'n Slappy


The Diaboloical Eight-Ball of Destiny

Sometimes Cap'n Slappy needs a little help - especially when the questions seem to mistake the good Cap'n for a gypsy fortune-teller. Enter the Diabolical Eight-Ball of Destiny: "Shaky ... shaky ... shake!"

Dear Cap'n Slappy

Will I meet and eventually marry the most fearsome pirate Captain Jack Sparrow?

Future-Mrs.Captain Jack Sparrow

Ahoy Future Mrs. Captain Jack Sparrow,

This is a perfect question for the Infamous Eight Ball o’ Diabolical Destiny! It’s been a while since he’s been called upon to answer one of these, so he may be a wee bit on the grumpy side, but we’ll do our best. Of course, ye know how this works, first I ask the Infamous Eight Ball o’ Diabolical Destiny yer question; ‘Will the Future Mrs. Captain Jack Sparrow meet and eventually marry the most fearsome pirate, Captain Jack Sparrow?” then we give the Infamous Eight Ball o’ Diabolical Destiny a shake. Shake shaky, shaky, shaky, shake! And we look in its wee window to see what is revealed.

Oh! Great! That’s right! Just wake an Infamous Eight Ball o’ Diabolical Destiny from his pleasant slumber any time you please! It’s not like I need sleep – no! I’m here to do your freakish bidding – you freak! Sorry. Sorry. I’m just a bit testy these days. I mean, I go MONTHS without a question, and then “The Future Mrs. Captain Jack Sparrow” writes wanting to know if she will be “The Future Mrs. Captain Jack Sparrow!” Well, missy! If you’re already signing off as “The Future Mrs. Captain Jack Sparrow,” what in the name all things holy do you need with me?!? Oh, yeah, that’s right! A FREAKIN’ REALITY CHECK! NO. You will never meet Captain Jack Sparrow and NO, you will never marry him! But not to worry – you WILL meet a guy at a pirate renaissance festival who dresses like Captain Jack Sparrow and calls himself, “Captain Jack!” and loves it when young women faun all over his costume and says, “Savvy” to the point of utter annoyance, but you will think he’s the ginchiest! You’ll date for six months before you marry. He’ll get a promotion to Junior Accounts Representative selling air time for a local radio station that plays hits from the 1940s and hosts a regular talk show on which they discuss Medicaid issues and gardening over the age of 85. You’ll have three children, two girls and a boy – you’ll name him “Jack Sparrow” for which he will never forgive you. And you’ll eventually divorce when all the nagging in the world can’t break your husband from his online addiction to … oh, let’s just say, “gambling.” Have a great life!

Oh, my! That was particularly harsh! Normally, I don’t apologize for the predictions of The Infamous Eight Ball o’ Diabolical Destiny, but, wow! That one stung! Ouch! Well, go thy way in peace anyway.

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Will I be reunited with my lost love?

- Lost

Dear Lost,

Your timing is impeccable! Cap'n Slappy's Magic Eight Ball has just returned from the cleaners! Now, I must warn you that the Magic Eight Ball can be a little vague and very unfriendly sometimes. But I asked the cleaners to do a "Martinzing" in hopes that it would soften and freshen the Magic Eight Ball. So, let's give it a whirl, shall we?

Shaking it up ... shaky, shaky, shaky ... and the message appears in the newly cleaned window:

"You will be reunited with a lost love only to have a 2,000,000 pound chunk of metal break off of a satellite that transmits Indian "Baliwood" movies and come crashing down to earth and land on you both as you are picnicking in a park. However, you will be hailed as heroes in Pakistan and statues of you both will adorn parks all over that country. Sadly, after a violent regime change, the statues will be torn down and the bronze will be melted and reformed into urinals for schools. Even the children will piss on the memory of your tragic star-crossed love."

That's it! I am taking the Magic Eight Ball back to the cleaners and asking for a discount!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Who will I marry?

- The lass next door

Dear Lass,

It's time for another look into Cap'n Slappy's Magical Eight-ball! Let's see ... WHO Will the Lass Next Door marry? ... shaking up the eight-ball...and the answer is appearing in the window... Oh, it says, "You will marry a prince among men who will sweep you off your feet and take you to a magical kingdom where dishes dance and brooms sweep up for you and the candles have outrageous French accents! Unless, you are the "lass next door" who will die of dysentery in a burnt out tenement in Chicago surrounded by pimps and whores who will steal her stuff and not have the decency to wait until she is dead."

Damn. And we were so close this time!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Will I marry Tom?

- Patty

Ahoy, Pirate Patty,

Ye know how this works do ye not? This is the kind of question that gets run through the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny. And ye are aware that it is "Infamous" for good reason, aren't ye? It is particularly "Diabolical" which can make it unpleasant. But then, ye must know this or ye wouldn't be askin'.

Alright, here goes...we give the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny a shake. Shaky...shaky...shaky...shake! And ask it, "Will Patty be marrying Tom?" And the answer comes up in the little window of fate:

"We have good news for Patty! She will marry Tom! Of course, it will not be without some difficulty and trying times, but what marriage hasn't had those? Patty and Tom will have a huge fight over the outcome of a "Reality Television" show and decide that one is just too"Reuben" while the other is too"Clay." The screaming match will wake everyone in the trailer park and both will be evicted. Tom will become a hopeless heroine addict and Patty will join an "End-Of-The-World" cult call "The Cuddlers." She and a group of devotees will go on a killing spree in southern Texas and Patty will avoid prosecution by turning State's Witness. After moving to Cleveland, Ohio, she will become a part-time petty thief and full-time alcoholic. Eventually, she will join Alcoholics Anonymous and seek out Tom as a part of her Twelve Steps to Recovery. She will still be very much in love with Tom, but he will now see her as his "best buddy." Tom will return from a European vacation and introduce Patty to his bride-to-be. Being, as she is, a good sport, Patty will get her on-line ordination and marry Tom to Bernadette, a French "exotic" dancer from Bordeaux, France and part-time "opium mule."


- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Will my girlfriend come home to me?

- Lonely Pirate

Dear Lone Pirate-dude,

Have you seen how things go when we consult the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny? It is a cruel oracle. But, it sounds like you really need to know, so let's give it a go, shall we?

First, we give it a little shake. Shaky...shaky...shaky...shake. And ask it the question, "Will Lonely Pirate's girlfriend come home to him?" and it says;

"Lonely Pirate will not be lonely for long. No, his girlfriend will not come back, she is never coming back, she has taken up with a Bolivian Trapeze artist and will be on the South American circus tour as a "Carney" for the next thirty-five years when she will move from the "Cotton Candy Booth" to the "Freak Show" when she discovers that she is double jointed during an orgy. You will not miss her, though, as you will become very fond of your collection of glass figurines from India. You will spend your days and nights rearranging them to optimize the way both sunlight and moonlight show the color of the different glass against your velvet "Elvis playing poker with dogs" painting. This will consume your life for the next four decades and you will never leave your home. Friends will beg you to "get out and do something," but you will ignore them and eventually, they will drift away like so much seaweed. But you will have your figurines, oh, yes you will. And they will never leave you, except for when they are stolen by hoodlums who break them on the sidewalk outside your house."

Oh Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny!!! WHY MUST YOU VEX POOR LONELY PIRATE SO???

- Cap'n Slappy

Arrr, Cap'n

I'm lookin' fer ye t'consult the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny on me own behalf. Ye see, thar's a thing I'm wantin', like, fer to know: when the end comes fer meself, how will it come? And what scurvy son of a lubber will be the one to do it? Yer've no idea, matey, how much this preys on me mind.

- Filthmuck

Ahoy, Filthmucky, me boyo!

We all be wantin' to know how THE END will be comin' and by who. The Infamous Eight Ball of Diambolical Destiny is always reluctant to give us the "by who" part because it is afraid of those pesky, "slander/defamation" law suits them lawyer-type be so fond of. So, ye must be patient as it figures out how to answer ye question without the months and months of legal briefs that would follow.

Oh, merciful Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny, our dear friend, Filthmuck wants to know how and by whom his "end" will come. Can ye give us a clear, yet, non-litigious message of the sad, yet inevitable event? And we give the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny a shake. Shake...shaky...shaky...shaky...shake. And thus speak the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny:

"Yer end will come as most ends do, peacefully, surrounded by those people you love. Of course, "peacefully" can be interpreted in many different ways. For the likes of you, "peacefully" means that you will be skewered with a super-heated oak spike because your Mad Cousin Ethel believes you are the spawn of a "super-vampire." Her hours and hours of watching the television show, "Buffy: The Vampire Slayer" will result in her convincing the whole family that you, in fact, are an evil vampire and that they need to drive a stake through your heart. Because of your years of being a bit of a bully to your younger cousins and not letting your younger brother play, "Hot Wheels Crash Derby" with you and the neighborhood kids, the family will be altogether too willing to believe that you are evil. Cousin Mel will do the actual driving of the stake, but every other member of your family (including some friends who were able to purchase tickets based on a "lottery" drawing) will witness your sad departure from this dimension. Several members of your family will be "surprised" when your body doesn't immediately turn to dust, but your Aunt Gretta will explain that, "that is just on the television...that's not the way it works for evil Vampires in REAL LIFE!" Yes, your end will be painful AND embarrassing, but you will only have yourself to blame."

Damn! If that Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny isn't a harsh oracle, I don't know what is!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Will I find treasure?

- Suset Grace

Dear Suset,

I am so glad you have asked this, because, you see, the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny is back from vacation and rested. Perhaps it will look favorably on your question and you will find the treasure you seek. Let's just give the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny a shake. Shaky ... shaky ... shaky ... shake. And ask it:"Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny, will Suset Grace find Treasure?"

You seek a great treasure. You will travel far and wide and be pierced with many sharp objects and spit upon by children and camels who are particularly known for their spitting skills, although, children, frankly have more germs and can really get you infected especially after all of the piercings of sharp objects. That's bound to leave a mark. Llamas, too, are very keen on spitting and depending on their diet, they may get you just as sick as the children, but they don't carry the same emotional toll as being spit upon by children who say, "Large Head! Large Head! You have a FUNNY UGLY LARGE HEAD!" Then, they resume spitting on you. When you plead with their parents to make the shower of saliva and phlegm stop, they, too, join in the spitting and convince the entire village to come and spit on you, as well as bring in specially trained llamas and camels who spit on you from great distances. Finally, when you have had enough, you write three hundred and fifty-two poems about being spit upon and put them in a collection called, "Please, for the Love of God, Buy This Collection of Poems About My Being Spit on All Around The World." No one will ever buy your book because no publisher will ever print your book. You will grow old living in a dumpster in Cairo where people come to spit everyday. And near the end of your life, you will realize, that all of the spit and all of the literary rejection didn't matter, because you did what you loved; well, not so much the living in a dumpster being spit on part, but the writing poetry part. You loved it. It was your treasure. Later, you will find out that your sister won the lottery and lived a happy life surrounded by treasure and she "always meant to get a hold of you and invite you to come live with her," but she just didn't have time. She will end her conversation with you by spitting on you and telling you your poems were "derivative" and "self-absorbed." And you will know she was right. And then, your "treasure" will be the knowledge that your sister was right and you have wasted your entire life. But, what can you do now?

Damn you, Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny! I spit on your vision of the future! I spit on it! <spi-tew! spi-tew! Oh, sorry did I get some on you, Suset?

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Are we going to Chattanooga tomorrow?

- Black Jenny Rackham

Ahoy Sweet Black Jenny!

While Cap'n Slappy has no idea what yer travel plans are, he has a little friend who DOES look into the future. However, as ye may be aware, it is a harsh oracle, a fiendish fortune-teller, a salacious seer, a painful piratical prophet of unpleasantness!

Yes, ye have asked a question that can only be answered by yerself, yer travel agent or THE INFAMOUS EIGHT BALL OF DIABOLICAL DESTINY!

Here's how it works; I ask the question, "Will Black Jenny Rackham be going to Chattanooga tomorrow?" and we give the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny a shake. Shaky ... shaky ... shaky ... shake. And then we look in the magical window and it says,

Jenny knows where she is going tomorrow. Why is she asking me? Of course, she is going to Chattanooga tomorrow - but she shouldn't. But who asked me? Nobody. Did anyone ask, "SHOULD Black Jenny Rackham go to Chattanooga tomorrow?" No. They didn't. If they did, I would have a WHOLE BUNCH to tell them, but as it is, the really juicy question is out of my purview. You know, being an Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny isn't all it's cracked up to be. Oh, sure, I get to pronounce doom and gloom on unsuspecting people who just want to find love or happiness or whatever ... blah, blah, blah. But after five or six thousand years of doing that, then what? Oh, and by the way, if you're wondering, when I sit and ask myself questions about my own future, I don't give myself happy little answers either! I am the INFAMOUS EIGHT BALL OF BLOODY DIABLICAL DESTINY now, aren't I? I can't sit here and comfort myself with thoughts like, "it's going to be okey dokey!" because I KNOW IT ISN'T! Damn! DAMN AND BLAST! Okay, remember what the Loving Two Ball of Inner Peace and Tranquility said, "Even though you don't have arms, embrace it all. And even though you don't have Lungs, Breathe Deep. And Let Go." Sorry. That's better. What was the question? Oh, yeah. "Yes. You're going to Chattanooga. Have fun."

Well, Black Jenny. That sounds ... promising ... I think. Enjoy!

- Cap'n Slappy

Woe be to me Cap'n Slappy.

I be a mattress salesman and find no respect among me peers. I'm thinkin' the Pirate life is the life for me as it's much more respectable. What think ye?

- Mean Green, the dancin machine

Ahoy, Mean Green!

Ye may not know this, but Ol' Cap'n Slappy has a mystical oracle of Truth-Telling. It can look far, far into the future and help ye decided a course of action. This magical orb is a little thing I likes to call:


Now, where did I put it ... oh, yar ... it be covered in dust. Thar, we go. First, we ask the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny yer question. "Should Mean Green the Dancin' Machine turn to a life of Piracy on the high seas?" Then we just give the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny a shake ... shaky, shaky, shaky, shake. And the answer will appear in the little window on the bottom of the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny. It says;

So, Mean Green, the Dancin' Machine wants to be a Pirate? What's he going to do? Dance people out of their booty? <Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny Chortle

What? Being a mattress salesman isn't good enough for you, Mr. Green? Alright, here's the dealioso. You have to follow your bliss. But you, Dancin' Machine, are in semi-denial about yours. I'm may be blowin' dustballs here, but wouldn't you be happier as a Dancer? And before you go gettin' all "woopsie daisy" about it, there are plenty of Manly Men who are dancers ... there's ... uh ... OH! Gene Kelly! Now, Gene could have been a splendid pirate too, if he WANTED to be one. That man could do ANYTHING! He was a quadruple threat! You, Gene, may just be a single threat. But if you are going to make the bold move to the brave world of Dance, you are going to need a gimmick. How's about this? Paint yourself green, wear a huge man-diaper and dance around a broken Tickle Me Elmo doll in a tub of rancid fish parts. Otherwise, stick to selling mattresses and continue to dream of something better.

Shiver me timbers, Mean Green, the Dancin' Machine! That Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny is a harsh career counselor. Good luck!

- Cap'n Slappy

Ahoy Cap'n Slappy!

I took your advice and tried the good old pick up line of "You. Pants off. Now!" it didn't work, so I took my own advice and started the "How to get picked up by wonderfully gorgeous Pirate Queens" classes, I have also started simultaneous "How to pick up male land-lubbers if you are a wonderfully gorgeous Pirate Queen" classes and both have so far been a success ... my question is what can The Diaboloical Eight-Ball of Destiny have to say about the future of my classes, my pirating and my lovelife in the future?

Yours in namechangedness

Captain Bess the Horny of the Scurvy Podge (Previously the Dread Pirate Dweia Namaah) (the name puts more cred on my classes...)

Ahoy Captain Bess the Horny,

I can't believe "You. Pants Off. Now!" didn't work! Did you check his pulse? No matter. It's always more piratical to solve yer own problems and that ye did! The classes are a nice touch! (And from the sound of things, sometimes a REAL nice touch.)

Now, before I run your question past the Infamous Eight-Ball of Diabolical Destiny, I want to remind you that while it will give you a spot-on glimpse into the future, it also sorely lacks in "people skills." Just so ye know! Alright, so we give the Infamous Eight-Ball of Diabolical Destiny a shake - shaky, shaky, shaky, shake. And ask it, "Will Captain Bess the Horny, formerly known as 'the Dread Pirate Dweia Namaah' have success in her classes, her pirating and her love life in the future?"

Thus speaks the Infamous Eight-Ball of Diabolical Destiny:

Finally! Ye ask me about someone who isn't a complete waste of protein! Jeeze, Slappy, I was starting to think I was going to be answerin' yer stupid little questions about "does my boyfriend like me?" and "will I ever be happy?" forever! Well, thank the pirate formerly known as "The Dread Pirate Dweia Namaah" for me! (I prefer that name to her new one - although, for the rest of this prediction I will refer to her a "Puddin'.")

Puddin's classes are going to be a phenomenal success with franchises springing up from Burbank to Beijing. Between her busy career overseeing her underlings and publishing - her book, "Prepare To Be Boarded: How to Pick Up Wonderfully Gorgeous Pirate Queens and How to Pick Up Male Land-Lubbers if You Are a Wonderfully Gorgeous Pirate Queen" will be the best selling book in sixteen countries - including Finland - for eighteen straight weeks. It will be huge! (It will have to be huge to accommodate such a long damn title!)

Unfortunately, the love she seeks will elude her like a bone that is buried by a dog in a vacant lot and the lot is sold to a Walmart and paved over for parking and the sad old dog digs and digs at the asphalt but to no avail! Oh, you'll dig and you'll dig but NO BONE FOR YOU, Puddin! Oh, sure, you'll be the forty-third richest woman in the world with your own daytime talk-show and millions of devoted followers - but what would you pay for just one - JUST ONE! - hot night of "monkey-love" with a land lubber of your choosing? Then you will remember, "Oh, yeah, I'm rich. I can "buy" me one of them monkey-love land lubbers and use the change to purchase another Mercedes Benz!"

Later, you will get busted in an "Insider Trading" sting, but you didn't ask about that.

The Infamous Eight-Ball of Diabolical Destiny has spoken. Go thy way in peace.

- Cap'n Slappy

hallo captin!

wie gehts? care to help me out in this situation? Well, I like this guy named ben ( i mean i like him alot ), and well, some people say he likes me. Yet,im nottoo sure. BUt any who. My friend tom ( who is also friends with Ben) asked ben if he liked me. and ben said "i got someone by my cabin" but yet he didnt say no. well, he talks to me a lot ( and he is the quiet type ). and he walks with me to my classes. and he even walked with me to thhe office so i could get my schdule, and he satyed right by me. he see's me in the hallway, and he comes to me and talks. he also asked me when i had gym,and when i told him we didnt have the same hours he was mad, and he was also mad when we didnt have tghe same amercian gonverment class. Oh, and im having a hotel party, and he said he would go if he is un-grounded. but yet, when was with me at the pool hall we barely talked or anything. WHat is going on?? does this kid like me.. or what! oh! and he said i could havre his sweatshir that he didnt want, he gave me ciggs, a lighter ( and he normally doesnt give those out to anyone), and he said i could have a party at his caabin after formal!! and!1 he said i could use his golfcart for prom.. and yet he isnt like that to every girl.. ::sigh::

what is going on? can u explain this confusing situation to me, and what should i do if he likes me? cuz i wouldnt mind being friends with benifits or bf gf for that matter. so how should i go about asking him out ( he is shy) if he does like me???? HELP!

~ deeply confused & lost~

Ahoy Deeply Confused and Lost!

Among my many skills, the role of "Pairing-Up Prognostication" is not one of my more advanced. However, in situations like these, I turn to The Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny. But here's the problem. If ye've read any of The Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny's comments, I am sure you will see a pattern - first, it is Diabolical - meaning, of course, "like the devil - wicked and evil." Second, it is "infamous" meaning that it is famous - only in a nasty way. So, remember - it might not be as cheery a picture as ye hope. But here goes ...

"Oh Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny, there's this boy that Deeply Confused and Lost is interested in, but he is shy and has a 'caabin' and a golf cart. Also he may or may not like her but she thinks she may want to be 'friends with benefits' or something called 'bf/gf'or just continue to let buy her ciggs and a lighter. Whatever shall she do?"

Then we give the Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny a shake - shake, shaky, shaky, shaky, shake! And look in the window for the answer:

"Ciggs AND a lighter?!? Wow! What? Is his last name Rockefellar? Such philanthropic instincts in one so young! Plus, he gives you his 'sweatshir' that he didn't want?!? He sounds like a saint - but his anger management about disappointing scheduling raises some concerns. And I think, at a bare minimum, you should only date fellows who are 'un-grounded.' That's a no-brainer. And I was saddened to see that none of your other friends could afford capital letters for their names and even you feel the need to conserve on the capital "I" pronoun. Sad, but these are hard economic times and when you are saving up for a big hotel party, you have to cut where you can. I know how that can be.

Look. It's easy, just go up to him and say, "I think you like me, I like you. Do you wanna be friend with benefits, or what?" It shouldn't take long before you are being taken full advantage of. Enjoy!"

Well, The Infamous Eight Ball of Diabolical Destiny seemed a bit snarky today, but I would advise ye to hold out for "bf/gf."

You're worth it.

- Cap'n Slappy


The Doggerel o' Cap'n Slappy -

Little did we know when we set sail on this peculiar voyage that our own Cap'n Slappy would turn out t'be a writer o' songs and poetry. Of sorts. Here be some o' his spontaneous compositions.

Avast there Cap'n Slappy!

Heave to an' drop ancher while ye ponder this 'ere question o' mine. I do be needin' the words to "A Pirate's Life for Me" as sung by the Guv'ner's daughter an' Cap'n Jack, seein' as they never did sing the whole bleedin' song. D' ye think 'ee could give a ship mate a hand wi' this problem?

- Black Joe, The Terror of the Tortugas

Ahoy Black Joe!

I don't know the words to this "Pirate's Life" song, that be the property of The Mouse. Ye could write to him, or Mad Mikey Eisner at the good ship Disney for them words.

I have, however, taken the liberty of writing me own "Pirate Song." Ye may fergit all about that other one after ye sing this little ditty.

It be sung to the classic tune "Oh, Susannah" by that southern fellar whose name escapes me but whose tunes are in the public domain, so thar aint nothing the lawyers can do about it!

I'M A PIRATE! by Cap'n Slappy

Oh, a pirate's life is free from strife his journey to begin
without a troubled, nagging wife a keepin' him from sin.
I've set me sails, I've got me peg, a compass and tattoo,
a parrot I call "Pauly" and a sword to run ye through.


Now Don't Give Me No Sass!
Or, I'll walk up right behind ye, lad, and kick ye in the ass!

Thars a nor-east blowin' in me face a gail comin' this way.
We'll stay right here and drink some more, ship out another day.
And the wenches they do make me smile I think they bring good luck
If I had me way on every day, I'd give them each a ... buck!


Now Don't Give Me No Sass!
Or, I'll walk up right behind ye, lad, and kick ye in the ass!

We sail and sail and read our mail and then we sail some more
we sail so much we haven't got time to go to the store.
We got no gold we got no gems and yet we feel so free
We ran out of fresh water, and had to drink our pee.


I'm a PIRATE! Now Don't Give Me No SASS!
Or, I'll walk up right behind ye, lad, and kick ye in the ASS!!

Now, try NOT hummin' THAT all day!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

How do you spell savy?

- Bloody Mary Bonnie

Ahoy Bloody Mary!

Spelling is hard. Nobody knows that like Ol' Cap'n Slappy. Fortunately for you, I have incorporated a mnemonic device to help me remember how to spell, "S-A-V-V-Y." It's sung to the tune of "L-O-V-E." (a tune your mother would know)

It goes a little something like this:

S-is for the way you SASS my way!
A-is for the ASS I kicked today!
V and V-is VERY, VERY,
stuck on how you're scary
Y-is for your YAP that's flappin'
cuz ye won't shut yer trap and

SAVVY is just how bright you seem to me. S
AVVY an understanding wench, ye be.
Our love stands the measure
You know you're my buried treasure
SAVVY is why you've chosen me!

I hope this helps, me Bonny, Bloody Lass!

- Cap'n Slappy

Ahoy, Captain

Just wondering if there's some special Pirate mantra I should say. I was born on September 19, and have celebrated TLAPD along with my birthday starting last year. I too am a single swabbie and have stopped looking for companionship on the internet. Anyway, have a great Pirate's Day!


Andy (don't have a pirate name, yet)

Ahoy Andy!

Yer mantra should take the form of a wee rap song I calls,

The Slappy Rap

I'm a pirate - a pirate I be
and just like Johnny Depp it is a pirate's life for me.
I sail upon the oceans and I take the seven seas
and I scoff at false authority and bring it to its knees!

Yo Yo Yo HOOOOOOooooooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!


Yo Yo Yo HOOOOOOooooooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!

I kick it with my crew yeah we kick it at our leisure
we're lookin' for adventure but we really want some treasure
and if we swash our buckle - yeah we're doin' that for pleasure
Aye, we'll talk alot like Shakespeare and his play Measure for Measure

Yo Yo Yo HOOOOOoooooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!

Off the mizzenmast!

Yo Yo Yo HOOOOOoooooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!

Some people think we're nasty and we're horrible and horrid
fightin' battles on the beaches and we always leave the shore red
with the blood nameless rabble and we're taken what they store-ed
while we pummel the resistors with our savage fists and forehead!

Yo Yo Yo HOOOOoooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!

With me Blunderbuss

Yo Yo Yo HOOOOoooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!

Shake your booty!

Yo Yo Yo HOOOOoooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!


Yo Yo Yo HOOOOoooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!

Now, that's what I calls, "The Slappy Rap!" Make it yer new mantra!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n of Slappin',

Have you ever been chillin' with some G-Homies on the street dogg with your fly shot hanging all ova da pavement when some fine lookin' honey come up, and she be all about the bling-bling hangin on ya like some kinda edward norton fling thang? Yo man should I get off that wench A-fore she get up with my home fries, and start some uglay thang with the bloods?

Word Life,

Hamcakes the enormous

Ahoy - I mean, "Word-gizzy! Homes!"

Let me see if I can conjure meself up some dope drizzle on the "hoochies" what's been reachin' for me "bling-bling" but would land me up in Sing-Sing:

Cap'n Slappy is nobody's "Trump-Pappy"
sos I don't get too "Mad-Sappy"
onaccounta the bad clappy
from the wenches who bump chappy
with the regular drip-drappy
who are livin' the life crappy
cuz they don't love the Frank Zappy
drinkin' milkshakes they call "Frappe"
say, "Yo Bruthah can you rappy
Like my homey the "C" Slappy?!"

Yo, me Boy-o Hamcakes!

Ye gots to give respect to the wenches
before ye make the love in the trenches.

And that's how we Slappy.

- Cap'n Slappy

Ahoy, Cap'n Slappy...

I can hardly believe I am even asking this of you...

You see, Captain, I am not a pirate. My whole family is enamored with piraticism, and I will admit that the idea of a life of freedom fills me with joy. But, the plundering, sea life, hangings (especially the hangings) leave me empty.

I prefer the night, sulking in the dark, spying on rival warlords, assassinations while the victim sleeps...

Yes, Captain Slappy, I am a ninja. Who lives surrounded by pirates.

Now, these are people I love, so there has been no fighting... But, I wonder, can a stealthy night-loving ninja such as myself ever find happiness aboard a sea-loving pirate ship? Have you any advice on how I can stay true to myself, and still be at peace with those around me?

-Shadow of Doubt

Ahoy Shadow!

Ye’re livin’ proof o’ what I have always believed and have written a wee musical number to that effect – it’s to the tune o’ “Oh, The Cowboy and the Farmer Should Be Friends” from the musical, “Oklahoma!” It goes a wee bit like this;


New lyrics by Cap’n Slappy (composer)

Oh! The Ninja and the Pirate Should be Friends!
Oh’ The Ninja and the Pirate Should be Friends!
The one sneaks under dark of night
The other drinks and blurs his sight
But that’s no reason why they can’t be friends!

(Hook) Folks who use a sword should stick together!
Folks who use a sword should all be chums!
Pirates why not try on black pajammies?
C’mon Ninjas drink up several rums!

Oh! The Ninja and the Pirate Should be Friends!
Oh! The Ninja and the Pirate Should be Friends!
The one has studied martial arts
The other drinks and fights and farts
But that’s no reason why they can’t be friends!

So ye see, Shadow! It can happen! Ye be who ye be! That’s it! Ye can be none else! So be a Ninja and love yer pirate brethren (and sisteren) and by Poseidon’s sagging man-breasts, they’re sure to love ye right back – and if they don’t show ‘em Cap’n Slappy’s wee ditty!

Lookin’ Cool in Black Jammies!

-- Capn Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

ive been DIEING to know:

if you are a group of pirats on one ship and you want to attack and take over another pirate ship.... what is that called???

there are some desperate mateys awaitin for the answer


I think me ol' pal, Dr. Seuss explained it best:

When pirates fight with pirates it is called a pirate battle.

When they're fighting over bread spread it's a pirate butter battle.

When they use their oars for fighting it's a pirate butter paddle battle.

And when those pirates pitch their battle in the Sound they call the "Puget," it's a pitched pirate butter paddle battle in the waters off Seattle.

And if the winner wins a herd of tuberculosis-ill livestock and the losers become naught but indentured servants ...

It's a pitched pirate butter paddle battle in the waters off Seattle over cattle with lung rattle and the losers become chattel.

God rest ye, Dr. Seuss!

- Capn Slappy


Miscellaneous Silliness

Dear Captain and Chumpy,

I will never click "I'm feeling lucky" on google again.

I typed "September 19" and got your website. Coincidentally and innocently enough, my wife's OB/GYN rescheduled our twin boys' induction on September 19 '05 from the 20th today.

September 20 happens to be the ten year anniversary of Cal Ripken's Hall of Fame Consecutive Game Record. Giving me Cal and Lou as perfectly fine boys names.

What advise have ye fer me and me wife, now? Incidentally, the boys are still unnamed, so we are also open to some "thematic" suggestions.

- Mark Chernisky

Ahoy Mark! (good name)

Yer wife's OB/GYN shows such wisdom as befits a man of medicine. In moving the date, the floodgates have been opened and ye'll now be awash in pirate lore! But not from me.

I'd stick with Cal and Lou - great names, both!

But, if'n ye be nautically inclined, ye may go with the unlikely coupling of Edward and Stede (Edward of course, being the real first name o' Blackbeard the pirate and Stede being the first name of Stede Bonnet - an unlikely fellow who fell in with the famous pirate.)

Or, ye could do the sensible thing and just name them Cap'n Slappy and Ol' Chumbucket.

Of course, ye may want to consult The Missus, as she may have one or two things to say about the whole namin' thing. But we'll hoist a tankard of ale in best wishes for a quick birthin' and long lives to the boys and yerselves!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

I drive a 1983 Volvo and it's been a good car. But lately it makes this funny wheezing noise when I try to accelerate in freeway traffic, and kinda shudders. That has led to some interesting, almost entertaining close calls on the freeways.

There's no oil stains in the driveway, but the last incident almost left some brown stains elsewhere. What should I do to make my old reliable reliable again?

- Sven the L.A. pirate

Ahoy Sven!

First things first. You need less fibre in you diet. Are you getting enough cheese? You know, cheese is the most important part of every meal and will keep you from "brown staining" your car's interior ... not that anyone who drives a 1983 Volvo would care.

But I kid, of course. Driving L.A. freeways gives you extra pirate points. Driving them in a rattling jalopy practically qualifies you for the rank of Pirate Ensign Second Class. You, sir, take your life in your hands everytime you flip your turn signal. (But once again, I am kidding. NOBODY in California uses a "turn signal.")

Here's the deal. Your Volvo was built for safety and nothing else. I suggest you veer off the road on your way up to the Griffith Observatory and roll it into the "HOLLYWOOD" sign. Then, settle with the county out of court for $300,000 and a new Nissan Murano. Following the settlement, use the publicity around your accident to write a book tentatively titled, "The Swede Mobile vs. The Hollywood Sign," and hold off on signing with a major motion picture company until they commit to casting you in the role of "Sven" and Cameron Diaz in the role of "Sven's slutty girlfriend who has several tasteful nude scenes with Sven."

Dude, this is going to be GREAT!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Given the current state of the world, what with terrorism and all, do you feel safe being a pirate?

- in the headlights look

Dear "in the headlights"

Wait. Did I just write, "Dear 'in the headlights'?" <Pirate Chortle Arrr! Ye got Cap'n Slappy with that one!

Most people don't know this, but when all this terrorism nonsense became all the rage, Cap'n Slappy assigned his good friend, "Ol Chumbucket" to the task of developing the Department of Pirateland Security. He examined all of the intelligence reports and came up with this color coded scheme to keep all pirates everywhere anxious and awaiting certain doom. The code is as follows:

So ye see, "in the headlights," having a color coded system developed by folks who really KNOW their color coded systems has eased my fears of terrorism incrementally. Thanks for asking!

- Cap'n Slappy

Allright Slappy,

You've been playin' buccaneer long enough, it's high time ye get your scurvy rear back home now. What kind of a pirate sets sail without tellin' his mother good bye?! A damn-blasted mangy no-good dastardly fellow such as you are. Same kinda pirate that'll sail home en route to Morocco and spend nary a minute of his layover with his mum.

Ye could have at least stopped by the shack first when ye came in to dock, let me know yer back. I had to hear me own boy was home from wenches on the street!

And when are ye going to get yer pegleg fixed? Doc Stimson says the new titanium alloy prostesis is ready, ye just need to come in for a proper fittin. "Oh no" ye says, "How can I be lookin like a pirate all dolled up in the fanciness of titanium alloy? All me shipsmates will be makin sport o' me."

Lawrence Myron Slappy! I did not raise you to be carin' what pirates might be thinkin of ye! Ye need to get that new leg befores ye current one rot from the sea air.

And shave already, I'll not have ye be bringin' nary one louse into this shanty when ye do come home. And hows about sending a few dubloons home once in a while? That shouldn't be too much to ask with all the plunderin' an pilferin' you do nowadays.

You're a bitter disapointment to me and yer pops, son, but we love ye anyways. But get your scurvy arse home!

- Love, Mum

Awwww Maa-aaa!

I tole' ye not to write to me here! If Cementhands McCormack finds out about this ... AND the new leg, I'll have to be beatin' the lads with me fists and forehead for months on end. And is your Doc Stimson goin' to supply me with a titanium forehead? I don't think so, ma! As fer pops, he's been dead for years! Why do ye keep dragin' his carcass (God rest his soul) into this freak show we call a family?

Jeez! Now EVERYBODY's gonna be givin' me the business! I told ye I'd be seein' ye come St. Valentine's Day! Do ye see little hearts on yer calendar? I think not! Tis no wonder me older brother, Manfred, took up Yoga and lives in The Village!

Aww, Ma, I'm sorry. I'll stop by this evenin' can I pick ye up somethin' at the Walmart on the way home?

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Do pirates wear boxers or briefs?

- Captain Blade McSlain

Ahoy Captain McSlain, the Gay Blade!

It is a little known fact that all REAL manly pirate-types wore boxers and the boxer that the modern pirate prefers is the kind found on this very web site. These, of course, are the official "Talk Like A Pirate Day" boxers that say, "Blow Me Down!"

As for the wench in yer life, she may prefer the "Pirate Booty" panty or thong!

Remember what Blackbeard himself might have said, had he been a paid spokesman:"If it ain't underwear from, I'm going regimental!"

And be sure to check out our gift shop for other piratical plunder.

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Ginger or Mary Ann? I just can't decide.

- Gilligan, mate aboard The Minnow

Ahoy, Little Buddy!

Here be the deal. Many a philosopher has lost sleep over the much debated "Ginger vs. Mary Ann" question. Nietzsche fancied Mary Ann, while Descartes was all about the Ginger. Plato couldn't keep his mind off of The Professor.

But none of that matters to a willowy little wisp of a lad such as yerself, who has had the fortune of being marooned with two women who wouldn't give him the time of day on the mainland " if he set himself on fire and sang, "I've Got a Loverly Bunch of Coconuts!"

Still, thar ye be. Two lovely and varied beauties and you are trying to decide? What's the matter with ye? One of you, two of them, Skipper's impotent and The Professor is obsessed with building a radio out of coconuts. Hell, the wenches would tag team ye just to keep ye from ruining their chance of being rescued every week.

Gilligan, ye must learn to play the hand yer dealt. And lad, ye've been dealt a full house!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,


- Fredwinna

Oh, my innocent little Piratewinna,

If only you had read Cap'n Slappy from day one you would fully understand "why." Oh, yes. You would FULLY understand. Now, however, in Cap'n Slappy's "Golden Years," the question of "why" is even more insignificant than ever.

You see, Fredwinna, when we were young, our parents answered "why" rather easily, with a flippant, "Because I said so." Now, as we grow older ... and in Cap'n Slappy's case, MUCH older ... when "why" comes up, we become the person who said so. For many wise and thoughtful people, the answer to all of Life's "Why" questions is, "Because Cap'n Slappy said so."

As a matter of fact, this very website with its vast array of information, fresh ideas and available souvenirs is missing that one T-shirt or Coffee Mug that simply says, "Because Cap'n Slappy Says So."

So, you see, Fredwinna, the Truth is not so far away. It is as near as your keyboard and as open as my interpretation. It is as immutable as gravity and as deep as a rather deep part of the ocean I call "The Pacific." Several other people call it "the Pacific" as well ... we all sort of agreed on that.

But "why" you may ask?

Because, Cap'n Slappy says so.

Find your comfort, as so many have, in the light of Cap'n Slappy's "say so."

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Speed Racer or George of the Jungle?

Who's cooler? Who would win a fight? Who would make the best pirate?

- Jane

Arrr, Jane of the Cartoon Network!

Here's the breakdown of the ancient Speed Racer vs. George of the Jungle controversy that has baffled philosophers and theologians since the dawn of Anime.

Who is cooler? Let's look at this scientifically;

George of the Jungle swings from tree to tree (usually INTO the next tree) by using a vine. (minus 3 coolness points) Speed Racer gets from place to place in "the powerful Mach 5." (plus 8 coolness points)

George has an "ape named ape." (plus 6 coolness points) Speed has a monkey named "Chim-Chim." (minus 5 coolness points)

When Speed leaps, he lands in the seat of his race car. (plus 8 coolness points) When George leaps, he lands on a grumpy elephant. (plus 2 coolness points)

Totals: Speed Racer is a 11 on the coolness scale. George of the Jungle is a 5 on the coolness scale.

Of course, George of the Jungle would pummel Speed racer in a fight, especially with the primate back-up being so out of balance.

As for which of them would make the better pirate, I would have to go with "Racer X," Speed's long lost mysterious brother, because Speed himself would be constantly hampered by his girlfriend, Trixie.

However, I think Dudley Dooright would also make a very good pirate-hunter as well.

There's something for the philosophy department to ponder, arrr!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

What el we do if the wind doesn't blow?

- Capt. Mike

Ahoy Mike!

If the wind doesn't blow, we push! Ye'd be amazed what sixty-four prisoners chained to the stern wearing swim fins can do when we chum the wake and tell them "here come the sharks!"

- Cap'n Slappy

Ahoy Cap'n!

I be new to the life of pillagin' and otherwise adventurin', but I's wonderin' what yer bevrage of choice is. I've heard that such drinks like grog and rum be refreshin', but I would like the opinion of such an esteemed pirate as yerself. I was also wondrin' where'd be a good place to get one.

A million blessins and good fortune to ya,

- Peg-nose Jake

Ahoy Peg-nose Jake!

As fine as rum and grog be, Cap'n Slappy's drink of choice is a nice cold ale or beer. When in his home port, the Cap'n enjoys the confines of a little pub called The Oregon Trader as well as another called Riley's Billiard Room, and will in fact be visiting both fine establishments on September 19.

The Trader makes their own beer, each more delicious than the last but if ye were in th' mood to pick Cap'n Slappy up a six pack, he would very much enjoy Dead Guy Ale from Rogue Brewery. (Although, Ol' Chumbucket and I are available to endorse any number of fine brews from around the world!)

Arrrr...I gets a might thirsty just writin' about it!

- Cap'n Slappy

Hola -

I have informed my people to disregard your impetuous celebration of "Talk Like a Pirate Day". You pirates have done much damage to my favorite Armada by stealing gold and jewels, and I insist that they not participate in your celebration.

Therefore, no members of the Spanish Armada will be allowed to "TLP". I hope you understand, and I am crying now.

- Queen Isabella of Spain

Now Queenie...

Stop yer cryin' love! That' weren't pirates...that were the British Navy! Oh, who am I kiddin' ... it WAS us pirates! But we steal 'cuz we love! Now, when ye hanged me nephew, Young Tappy Slappy, did I go and cancel our "Carve a Bust o' Isabella" competition? Did I put an end to "Talk Like a Member o' the Spanish Royal Family Day?" Even when Blackbeard said I was Daffy? No. I thought we loved one another more than that, Love.

Now, dry yer eyes. If I didn't love ye, would I find yer booty so irresistible?

- Cap'n Slappy

Mr. Slappy -

I see that you have access to my system of delivering messages. The scribes are wondering what sort of things I am saying to you, a Pirate for heaven's sake. Unfortunately, just recently some of the questioning scribes have fallen overboard. Quite a few, actually.

But I digress.

This new English scribe will do for now. It is important that he submits my messages fairly well. I speak Spanish you know, and he doesn't. Beating him mercilessly does not seem to improve his knowledge of the great culture of Spain, certain to be a world eofvclefd, oh, there he goes again, lapsing into sleep.

I will attempt to continue without the low held scribe we picked up in San Whatever.

Oh crap, I mean, mess, there are ships firing on us, where did they come from? I must see to this at once.

- Queen of Spain, Isabella

Ahoy Queenie Baby!

I too, have acquired a scribe of some dubious credentials. He's like, wow, man! Wait Dude-man! I didn't say that! Stop writing that! Listen beatnick dude, scribe-man! I be Cap'n Slappy and I be warnin'ye! (He really did say "Ye" Queenie-Baby!) Oh, Now he's all like, intense and talking about doing something to you's truly with his fists and forehead and AAAAAAGph!

Your Majesty Queenie-love,

I have decided to forego me own experiment with a "scribe" as the one I have was dressed all in black, wearing a "beret" I think he called it, and playing on two small drums connected side by side. "Bonobos" I think he called them. At any rate, I have remedied the situation and this throw-back to the beat generation has met with a most fitting departure from this plane of existance. He did seem to capture the sound of me cutlass performing a "lumpectomy" on that "growth" he called his, "bean."

"AAAAAGph!" captured it nicely.

What say we go with Western Union from here on out, Love? Or just send Hallmark cards?

Your most humble, albeit blood bespattered, servant,

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Mr. Slappy.

Upon hearing about your love for my booty, I have decided to loosen the restrictions upon my sailors. I actually called Artruro de la Hoya, one of my braceros in the colonies, Arrrrrrghturo. I have yet to hear back whether or not he appreciates the deprecating humor. It may take a year to learn whether or not I can condone the "Talk Like a Pirate" holiday. I did say to my mistress Fortuna that she looked scurvy and have some rum. I think I am starting to like you Mr. Slappy.

I don't know why. I am not crying now, simply whimpering in a corner of my four poster bed. But I will remain strong, as you Pirates are often stinky, and I don't like that.

- Isabella, Queen of Spain

Ahoy Queenie!

Boy have I been sailin' hard! I'm as tired as an ol' rumpot being forced to dance by briggands with a gatlin gun! We may have had a mix up in translation, but ye may want to tell Fortuna that she looks, "curvy" and not "scurvy." Just a thought!

I think ye should make the day an official holiday in Spain and her posessions. It would be fun fer the children, if naught else.

As fer bein' "stinky" I must second that olfactory observation. I am currently as stinky as a skunk that's been dunked in rancid pig grease and given a home in a lumberjack's out house. But still, I'm the sexiest man aboard the ... wait ... where did everybody go?

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

What is the meaning of life?


- Zach

Arrrr, Little Zach,

Arrr! De je vu all over again!

This is a question that has perplexed the greatest minds of human history. Therefore, it is no problem to explain. Life is something that happens to people who aren't burdened by the need to find meaning in everything. Now go out and do some wenching!

- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

Is it possible to navigate at night when Uranus is in full view, or would that be a red herring?

- Anon.

Ahoy me Nocturnal Nautical Navigator!

I was standing on the poop the other night with Doc Burgess and we were discussing the recent delivery of a butt of grog that he had won in a raffle where he guessed the combined weight of team of Bolivian Midget Wrestlers who had been on tour in Bottyville, Botswana. I was admiring his booty but he complained that his bunghole was tight. Nay, "tight" isn't the right word. He described it as "impenetrable."

As we worked feverishly to uncork his hole, we noticed that Uranus was staring us right in the face. Uranus was so close, it was as if we could reach out a finger and give it a poke. But Uranus is treacherous. When it comes to Uranus, things are not always what they seem. I once set my sights on Uranus and nearly ran me ship aground on Starfish Jetty in Wrecked-Hull Bay, New Guinea.

Take my advice, friend, do not trust Uranus. No good will come out of it no matter what you put into it.

Well, I see Cementhands McCormack has managed to loosen Doc Burgess's bung hole! Drink up me hearties!

-- Cap'n Slappy

Ahoy, Captain

Just wondering if there's some special Pirate mantra I should say. I was born on September 19, and have celebrated TLAPD along with my birthday starting last year. I too am a single swabbie and have stopped looking for companionship on the internet. Anyway, have a great Pirate's Day!


Andy (don't have a pirate name, yet)

Ahoy Andy!

Yer mantra should take the form of a wee rap song I calls,

The Slappy Rap

I'm a pirate - a pirate I be
and just like Johnny Depp it is a pirate's life for me.
I sail upon the oceans and I take the seven seas
and I scoff at false authority and bring it to its knees!

Yo Yo Yo HOOOOOOooooooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!


Yo Yo Yo HOOOOOOooooooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!

I kick it with my crew yeah we kick it at our leisure
we're lookin' for adventure but we really want some treasure
and if we swash our buckle - yeah we're doin' that for pleasure
Aye, we'll talk alot like Shakespeare and his play Measure for Measure

Yo Yo Yo HOOOOOoooooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!

Off the mizzenmast!

Yo Yo Yo HOOOOOoooooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!

Some people think we're nasty and we're horrible and horrid
fightin' battles on the beaches and we always leave the shore red
with the blood nameless rabble and we're taken what they store-ed
while we pummel the resistors with our savage fists and forehead!

Yo Yo Yo HOOOOoooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!

With me Blunderbuss

Yo Yo Yo HOOOOoooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!

Shake your booty!

Yo Yo Yo HOOOOoooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!


Yo Yo Yo HOOOOoooo!
Yo Yo Yo HO!

Now, that's what I calls, "The Slappy Rap!" Make it yer new mantra!

-- Cap'n Slappy

Dear Cap'n Slappy,

I have an issue. I'm a freshman at college and have been here for about two weeks. I get along fine with my roommate but my dorm is at the top of a hill. A big hill. A big hill that is rather painful to climb when burdened with textbooks, notebooks, and other learning gear. I always end up exhausted after the climb and was wondering if there is any better way.

How do I deal with living at such an awkward place?


Ahoy Sherra!

My first thought is, “Sherpas!” But then, whenever Ol’ Cap’n Slappy is in a fix, his first thought is usually, “Serpas!”

If ye can’t find any Sherpas on campus, ye might go with the next best thing – use yer wenchly wiles to attract lonely freshman boys who would tote anything to gain the attention of a freshman girl. We call these, “Free Sherpas,” because they work only for the pleasure of your company – like a Labrador retriever. If ye have large items to move, ye could lash several o’ these “Free Sherpas” together to form a “walking barge of neediness.”

Do not underestimate how much man-power (or in this case, boy-power) can be derived from an eighteen-year-old who misses his mommy.

- Cap'n Slappy

Ahoy, Cap'n

My computer is making strange ticking noise. Is it going to explode, and if it does, will it kill me?

Pink Bloodbath

Ahoy Pink Bloodbath!

While I be no expert on the ins and outs o’ the puter-boxes what do that magic stuff, I can tell ye that anything that ticks and doesn’t eventually ring will explode. That’s Newton’s First Law of Stuff Blowin’ Up! (Don’t quote me on that – but I’m pretty sure it’s true.)

Will it kill ye? Probably not. But it will probably take a leg off – if it does, let me know and I’ll get ye a good deal on a peg.

- Cap'n Slappy

Cap'n Slappy

I have a question for ye

Do we modern pirates like Vikings?

Cap'n Stephen Pilkington

Ahoy Cap’n Pilkington,

Recently the modern pirates took a vote and I’m sorry to say they came out very strongly against the Vikings. As it turns out, most modern pirates are Packers fans.

- Cap'n Slappy

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