Of Pirates and Sworn Enemies

Arrr.

Take a gander at this: "Talk Like a Pirate Day" Busted: Not Even Pirates Spoke Pirate

Because the social anthropological party-poopers at National Geographic want ye lot to know that we're Doing It Wrong and that real pirates never talked like I be talkin' to ye right now.

Yeah, whatever. Who piss'd in yer poxy cornflakes, National Geographic?

Clearly the landlubbin' spoilsport prigs at National Geographic need to imbibe some grog and ogle a few photos o' naked tribes people (otherwise known as middle class preteen pr0n) whilst watching these friends of Jiggy's sing sea shanties: YO HO HO.

Bite me muslin arse, National Geographic. You now be me sworn enemy. It be Talk Like a Pirate Day and I be talkin' like a pirate. If ye know what's good for ye, ye'd lube up ye lingo and get with th' program.

Arrr.

Johnny Cash is awesome, and dead.

I'm here today to talk to you about Johnny Cash and how awesome he is. I just learned he lived on a llama farm in his later years. His favorite llama was named Andy. If it turns out that he ate llama burgers on a regular basis, he might just replace Warren Zevon as my favorite artist. Although it'd be a tough choice because Warren (who is also dead) has a lot of really good songs about murder and headless people with guns and that classic one about lycanthropes and hockey enforcers and Elvis and Rottweilers and dying of cancer and monkeys and, yeah, really good stuff like that.

So AJ you ask, what about Johnny Cash? Well, for starters, WHY HASN'T SOMEONE CLONED HIM YET? (Note: the same applies to Warren Zevon.) Or, alternately, why is money being wasted on the cyrogenically frozen head of Walt Disney and not the frozen head of Johnny Cash? I mean, who do we need more in this world? The Man in Black, or a guy who animates furry woodland creatures for a living? Right, no debate, the answer is The Man in Black. Unless you're Lamie and are lobbying for the first animated motion picture produced by American Girl, in which case Walt is your hero. But trust me, Lamie, there are hundreds of other animators of furry woodland creatures from whom you can choose. Be original and go make a pr0n movie with furry woodland creatures. Oh wait, that's Snow White. Never mind.

While we're on the subject of furry woodland creatures, let me just ask you people: how many does one doll need? At last count, Lamie has five and even six if you count the fact that she stole and molested my Toshi. The count doesn't even include whatever's coming with the second set of releases. Tell me, does she really need a rabbit (which, if she lets it loose in the garden, will soon turn into a hundred rabbits); a raccoon (menace) doing an Oscar the Grouch impression; a cross-eyed owl; a badly-made giant, mutant squirrel (vicious beasts that no one should try to domesticate); a constipated fox; AND that horrifying offspring of a union between a midget orangutan and a traffic cone?

Seriously, that squirrel? Is the take-home message going to be "Beware: Radioactive waste is bad; causes giant, mutant squirrels who want to bite your face off"?

Well crap, someone just poked their head into the AGPT offices and said I'm supposed to make some resolutions since it's a new year and all. Yeah, I don't think I need to change anything, especially considering the service I'm doing for you losers by providing this blog AND grammar tips on AGPT. Plus, my mere existence is inspirational for all.

Still, I do have an off-the cuff to-do list for 2010:

-Do swear at Cousin Antonin more. Do not agree to edit his memoirs.
-Remember: Beer before liquor, not liquor before beer.
-Test cattle prod on anyone who uses 'alright' instead of 'all right." Or 'alot' instead of 'a lot'. Full body tasing for those who can't get the your-you're distinction. Death for the there-their-they're idiots.
-Come up with really good April Fool's joke for AGPT. Oh, wait, I did that last year. Top that, suckers.
-Raise profile of TLAPD. Use cattle prod on anyone caught not talking like a pirate on TLAPD.
-Use cattle prod more on that one mod. Also, use taser. And heavy artillery if called for.
--Use cattle prod, taser, and heavy artillery more, period.
-Clone Johnny Cash and Warren Zevon. Make Warren Cash clone, as an experiment. He can be my manservant if it turns out well.

The most wonderful day of the year

Arr, me hearties, it be Talk like a Pirate Day once again. Note that it also be Rosh Hashanah, so yeah, Shanah tovah to yon Jewish mates. Ye lot can feel free to sprinkle some derogatory Yiddish terms in with yer pirate-speak, savvy?

Listen up, ye, I don't give a flying Dutchman if it is politically incorrect to glorify piracy. Cut me an effin' break and pluck that oar out of yer asses. This be for fun, not glorification. I know bloody well that pirates didn't swash around like Errol Flynn or swish around like me pal Johnny Depp's Cap'n Jack Sparrow. And me bein' the international woman of reknown that I am, you can rest assured that I know far more than you do about the lack of a functioning central government that has pushed the Somalian pirates to lawlessness. So do not presume to fill my message box with yer triflin' lectures, ye lice-infested bilious mothers o'spitless llamas.

There now. Off for some mo' grog, rum, and whate'er else I can guzzle. Carry on.

Yo ho ho

So you've been wondering where I've been, yeah?

As alert readers may recall, Dick Cheney appeared during the waning hours of my birthday Fear and Loathing Tour. He whisked me and the Entourage off to an undisclosed location. After plying us with caviar and champagne on mismatched pieces of White House china, he revealed a fervent desire to bring those Somali pirates who kidnapped an American ship captain to justice. Yeah, well, we all remember what a good shot Dick Cheney is, right? Right. That's why he needed me, what with my superior weaponry stash and skills. I'm not going to broadcast this fact beyond my blog because if word leaks out, I'll be in high demand, but yeah, after a quick call to the Obama administration? Well, that was me leading that Navy Seal sharpshooter squad what took down the Somali pirates.



Now I have to say that I had a wee bit of sympathy for the Somalis, since that $8 mil ransom was ostensibly in reparation for the toxic waste that Europeans have been dumping off the coast of Somalia since 1991. Not only that, but Europeans trawlers have been illegally fishing off Somalia's unprotected seas. WTF, Europeans, stop that shit! Eat llama like the rest of us, leave the Somali fish alone, and bury your toxic waste in your own damned backyards. I'm not saying that any of this justifies hostage-taking, and I'll do what needs to be done every time. But we all know I have a natural affinity for pirates and understand what can turn a man or doll to illegal activity on the high seas.

So, yeah.

I'm not much for Dick Cheney, but it occurred to me that he and I could reach an agreement that might help this country. He needs to be kept busy, that one does. As it turned out, I still needed a manservant. You see, Manservant #1 Kevin Federline didn't work out last fall; he kept dashing off to Vegas to party, plus Britney called at all hours. No, no thanks. Replacement Manservant Roddy Blagojevich was too busy fussing with his hair to attend to my needs, plus he requested so much time off for interviews and impeachment proceedings and such that I had to fire his ass. After that I received tons of applications from out-of-work Wall Street hedge fund operators. But hell noes, like I'd trust them? Levi Johnston also called about the position but he needs to get his GED first; I have my standards. But Dick Cheney? Highly educated, Machiavellian in temperament, out of work and totally manageable so long as I lay in an extra supply of raw meat (not hard to do with a Godzilla in the house).

So, meet my new manservant:

Just for the record, Dick's position is all about housekeeping and not at all about sex. Please. Don't make me gag. But a uniform is necessary, and we might as well go with leather.

So it's back to business as usual with my expanded Entourage of Jiggy, David, Adam, Johnny, The Rock, and Dick Cheney to keep the place tidy.

Life is good.

I cut my date with that hot pirate short for this?

"But when is my Spammy-wammy's bedpan going to be sold out?" you say. Or "when is Meeeah's 'cleaning up the ice rink' broom and dustpan' going to be gone?"

Shut up. Do I look like fucking Nostradamus to you? Wait, don't answer that. I DON'T KNOW. Stop asking me! Try doing, I dunno, a little research. Like looking up that thread from three days ago when someone asked the exact same question. Or call goddamn AG, they're paid to listen to you. Check what's backordered on AG's website.

And if you want something, buy it. I don't know when it's going to disappear so better safe than whiny later. And if you don't have the money now but will next week, asking me umpteen times isn't going to change anything. Either it'll still be available when you have the money, or it won't. It's not Schrödinger's fucking cat. It's not going to fail to sell out if you observe it. I promise.

ETA: Speaking of cats, I like this one's attitude.

My Holiday Wish List

So, yeah, the election is over. My place in American history is secure and I am well on my way to achieving world domination. Yesterday Playthings; today the world; tomorrow, infinity and beyond.

But I no sooner come off the election and I’m besieged by my fans. “AJ!” they write, thus risking my wrath at being so familiar. (Which reminds me: don’t risk my wrath by calling me 'a prank.' I’ll prank you. Hard. Harder than hard.) “AJ!” my fans persist. “What do you want for the holidays?” Some of them even want details, like what holiday I celebrate and how. Look, don’t sweat the small stuff. I am all-inclusive and will accept your tributes for every major or minor winter holiday. As for how I celebrate, that’s my own damned business.

At any rate, here’s my wish list. Since apparently people want to know these things.

1. Every good woman needs a Marine in uniform. I’ll take more than one if you have extras.

2. The gift of universal good grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. This includes recognizing and executing the differences between to-too-two, you-you’re-your, they're-there-their, and so forth. This gift is priceless and probably out of your budget, but a doll can dream.

3. Bound leather (who doesn’t love leather bondage?) copy of Robert’s Rules of Order. So I can throw it at that one Playthings mod. Yeah, you know who you are.

4. Blu-ray edition of Golden Girls: The Complete Series. I have the DVD box set, but Jiggy is forever upgrading the home theatre set-up and I have to keep pace with technology.



5. A pet frog. Either highly poisonous or hallucinogenic, I’m not picky. Although Jiggy would prefer the hallucinogenic type. You know how he is.

6. World peace (under the totalitarian dictatorship of myself, of course).

7. A flame thrower.



8. A manservant. Jiggy, David and Adam don’t move fast enough. Jiggy’s too strung out, David’s tired all the time from the sex, and Adam doesn’t have articulated joints.

9. Two heads to smack together. Actually, a year’s supply of two heads to smack together.

10. Nerf N-Strike Vulcan EBF-25 Blaster in yellow. This item ships for free with Super Saver Shipping on Amazon.com.



11. New ass-kicking boots in red patent leather.



12. Second job as a stunt double. I can double for anyone with a quick rewigging and eye swap. Resume available upon request and my discretion.

13. Matching ‘I Am Made of Poison’ tshirts for me, Jiggy, David, Adam, and a smaller one for the man servant (from www.topatoco.com).



14. A hot air balloon. You don’t need to know why.

15. A gold Ferrarri. Red is my second choice but it has to coordinate with the new red ass-kicking boots (see number 8 above).



16. A divining rod so I can give dowsing a try.

17. Pirate things. Anything pirate. All pirate, all the time.

Which reminds me -- yo, you Somali pirates in the Asian seas? WTF is your problem? Going around acting all piratical with assault rifles and missile launchers, FFS. Where’s the sport in that? I mean, I’m all for innovative weaponry, but let’s have a level playing field. You’re taking the romance and mystery out of piracy. So ditch the high-caliber guns, rocket launchers and torpedoes and earn some old school respect.

Because there’s nothing worse than a bully pirate who takes himself too seriously. I shouldn’t have to tell you that.

Talk Like a Pirate Day

Yarr! 'Tis soon to be th' best damn'd day o' th' year. I've got me weaponry, artillery, 'n rum by me side. Ye ale-guzzling cowardly slop buckets, ye best tuck into ye own rum 'n leave me stash betides, lest I send Jiggy t' keelhaul yer arses.

T' pox-infested rotten timbered sons of double Dutchmen mods on Playthings, those salt-crusted sea-sick bilge rats, they done turn'd th' message forum piratical once again. Aye, they finally done somethin' right! Yarr!

You know what I'm sick of?

You know what I'm sick of? This whole Pleasant Company vs. Mattel debate. I know everyone's trying to make it into the next ninjas vs. pirates thing (pirates are clearly superior) but there shouldn't even be a debate there. Mattel is the obvious winner. Why? Because they made me.

And while we're talking about pirates, the Pittsburgh Pirates make me very, very angry. All they do is lose. They sully the good name of "pirate" everywhere they go, the bastards. Argh. Blood pressure rising.

(Yeah, I can hear you now: "But AJ, you don't have a heart! How can your blood pressure rise?" Bugger off, you literal idiots.)