Half-Nekkid Thursday or How I Stopped Worrying and Fell in Love with the Sea

I was going to post a picture of the Pirate half-ass nekkid running through the office swinging his sword and dagger about scaring the shit out of the tit-support system and the little tyrannical dictator we refer to as "Sir von Ass wipe" and his big assed small brained wife, Peach, but I couldn't get the camera to work. I was also concerned that I would never get another visit from my blogger-buds. So I decided to post a picture of Mrs. Pirate waiting by the sea for my return. She doesn't cook well in the kitchen but put her in a pilot's jacket and let her man the wheel. Phew... Boy, she can cook then.

I just read on the net that some German fella named Christian Koch has developed a new source of automobile fuel; dead cats. He admantly dismisses the claim but the neighborhood has been cat free since he last filled up his car. It has also been said that his car's backfire sounds a lot like a cat trying to dislodge a hairball.

While we are on cats, I once asked my Dad why cats sound so crazy when they fight. He told me in his old sage manner that cats are actually trying to maintain their existance by weeding out the week, only the strong will reproduce. In order for a male cat to have the opportunity to mate with a female he has to be able to hold her down and essentially take it from her. Then he said, "As for all that screaming you hear, have you ever felt how rough a cat's tongue feels?"