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I be havin' a sentimental moment last night, inspired by a bad thin' what happened t' a matey`s dogs what required me t' concentrate on good intentions fer the'r safety. Thoughts like this always make me feel th' love I be havin' fer me own dogs e'en more keenly. I knelt on th' deck an' hugged Cap'n Spike t' me, his hade pressed against me chest, runnin' me hands o'er his aft an' his legs, gloryin' in th' love an' life poundin' in his deep narrow keel an' his warm fur.
He listed into me fer a wee minutes, lovin' me aft wi' all his great heart, then he pulled loose, laughed in me face an' leapt on one o' th' kittens` paper bags an' capered madly round th' flat happily rippin' 't t' pieces; then he came an' humped me arm while Squish Cabin Boy had an outraged yappin' fit. I love me dogs.
I love me heartys` dogs as well, an' things look better fer them this mornin'. Aye!
In other news, I found a way t' put me list o' tags on me link list, an' lookin' at all th' tags together I could be seein' a whole bunch o' redundant an' duplicate ones (fer example, "dogpuke" an' "dog puke" as two separate tags) so I spent a happy hour fiddlin' wi' them before gettin' bored. This be what happens when I eyeball![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hopefulnebula`s journal. I even, fer a mad moment, entertained th' idee o' becomin' a support volunteer, but after readin' th' relevant FAQ section I came aft t' reality. They need swabbies who actually know what they's doin' an' that t'ain't really me.
In other volunteerin' news, me dear ol' Mum be returned t'Grimmauld Place an' I be supposed t' go o'er thar this afternoon an' swab decks. I be actually quite happy t' do 't, fer once. Today be a fairly nay-feeling-bilge water tide, an' I need t' be havin' Mum owin' me a favour rather than th' other way round, what wi' takin' on extra cats I may be havin' trouble affordin'.
An' she`s homeport! That means I`ve got me dogsitter back from Davey Jones' Locker! Arrrr mateys!!!
't also means I`d better do somethin' about me trashed bunkroom this week, at least if I erewant t' be rammed, boarded an' sunk again. Hmmm.
Ya horn swogglin' scurvy cur!
I was having a sentimental moment last night, inspired by a bad thing that happened to a friend's dogs that required me to concentrate on good intentions for their safety. Thoughts like this always make me feel the love I have for my own dogs even more keenly. I knelt on the floor and hugged Spike to me, his head pressed against my chest, running my hands over his back and his legs, glorying in the love and life pounding in his deep narrow chest and his warm fur.
He leaned into me for a few minutes, loving me back with all his great heart, then he pulled loose, laughed in my face and leapt on one of the kittens' paper bags and capered madly round the flat happily ripping it to pieces; then he came and humped my arm while Squish had an outraged yapping fit. I love my dogs.
I love my friends' dogs as well, and things look better for them this morning. Yay!
In other news, I found a way to put my list of tags on my link list, and looking at all the tags together I could see a whole bunch of redundant and duplicate ones (for example, "dogpuke" and "dog puke" as two separate tags) so I spent a happy hour fiddling with those before getting bored. This is what happens when I look athopefulnebula's journal. I even, for a mad moment, entertained the idea of becoming a support volunteer, but after reading the relevant FAQ section I came back to reality. They need people who actually know what they're doing and that isn't really me.
In other volunteering news, Mum is back at Grimmauld Place and I am supposed to go over there this afternoon and clean. I am actually quite happy to do it, for once. Today is a fairly not-feeling-crap day, and I need to have Mum owing me a favour rather than the other way round, what with taking on extra cats I may have trouble affording.
And she's home! That means I've got my dogsitter back! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
It also means I'd better do something about my trashed bedroom this week, at least if I ever want to have sex again. Hmmm.
He listed into me fer a wee minutes, lovin' me aft wi' all his great heart, then he pulled loose, laughed in me face an' leapt on one o' th' kittens` paper bags an' capered madly round th' flat happily rippin' 't t' pieces; then he came an' humped me arm while Squish Cabin Boy had an outraged yappin' fit. I love me dogs.
I love me heartys` dogs as well, an' things look better fer them this mornin'. Aye!
In other news, I found a way t' put me list o' tags on me link list, an' lookin' at all th' tags together I could be seein' a whole bunch o' redundant an' duplicate ones (fer example, "dogpuke" an' "dog puke" as two separate tags) so I spent a happy hour fiddlin' wi' them before gettin' bored. This be what happens when I eyeball
hopefulnebula`s journal. I even, fer a mad moment, entertained th' idee o' becomin' a support volunteer, but after readin' th' relevant FAQ section I came aft t' reality. They need swabbies who actually know what they's doin' an' that t'ain't really me.In other volunteerin' news, me dear ol' Mum be returned t'Grimmauld Place an' I be supposed t' go o'er thar this afternoon an' swab decks. I be actually quite happy t' do 't, fer once. Today be a fairly nay-feeling-bilge water tide, an' I need t' be havin' Mum owin' me a favour rather than th' other way round, what wi' takin' on extra cats I may be havin' trouble affordin'.
An' she`s homeport! That means I`ve got me dogsitter back from Davey Jones' Locker! Arrrr mateys!!!
't also means I`d better do somethin' about me trashed bunkroom this week, at least if I erewant t' be rammed, boarded an' sunk again. Hmmm.
Ya horn swogglin' scurvy cur!
I was having a sentimental moment last night, inspired by a bad thing that happened to a friend's dogs that required me to concentrate on good intentions for their safety. Thoughts like this always make me feel the love I have for my own dogs even more keenly. I knelt on the floor and hugged Spike to me, his head pressed against my chest, running my hands over his back and his legs, glorying in the love and life pounding in his deep narrow chest and his warm fur.
He leaned into me for a few minutes, loving me back with all his great heart, then he pulled loose, laughed in my face and leapt on one of the kittens' paper bags and capered madly round the flat happily ripping it to pieces; then he came and humped my arm while Squish had an outraged yapping fit. I love my dogs.
I love my friends' dogs as well, and things look better for them this morning. Yay!
In other news, I found a way to put my list of tags on my link list, and looking at all the tags together I could see a whole bunch of redundant and duplicate ones (for example, "dogpuke" and "dog puke" as two separate tags) so I spent a happy hour fiddling with those before getting bored. This is what happens when I look at
hopefulnebula's journal. I even, for a mad moment, entertained the idea of becoming a support volunteer, but after reading the relevant FAQ section I came back to reality. They need people who actually know what they're doing and that isn't really me. In other volunteering news, Mum is back at Grimmauld Place and I am supposed to go over there this afternoon and clean. I am actually quite happy to do it, for once. Today is a fairly not-feeling-crap day, and I need to have Mum owing me a favour rather than the other way round, what with taking on extra cats I may have trouble affording.
And she's home! That means I've got my dogsitter back! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
It also means I'd better do something about my trashed bedroom this week, at least if I ever want to have sex again. Hmmm.
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(I'm not kidding, it's a real URL)
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Ye be meanin' "inspired by a bad thin' what happened" an'/or "matey's dogs what required me."
Arrrr.
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(yer right though...)
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That, an' me sister's got a bum arm this fortnight, an' she be dropped off at our last port ta see the sawbones, an' so'll be no help wit' the charts an' navigation, nor wit' the takin' notes about the stars an' planets what we're supposed to be doin later on today.
Ahhh, well, on the upside, I seen the Pirates of the Caribbean movie either th' seventh or th' eight time (I lost me count, I did!), an' finally brought me favorite buzzing toy up to me cabin from the last port, so all be not lost.
A happy Talk Like A Pirate Day to ye Liz an' yer crew.
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Since me only music player's me faithful ol' Charlotte Computer, it's a good thing I have nimble fingers. I'm an old-fashioned wench at heart :-D
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If i' don't, o' course, I'll be keelhaulin' someone, because seventy coin might be fine fer pleasure in tune with me favorite songs, but I ain't shellin' out two hunnerd fer a ridiculous li'l box what does only what me computer already do.
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I be a mite obsessed, if ye haven't bin noticing, here.
(Ahhh, Pirate Day, Pirate Day *dances*)
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Yes. Because Scottish accents are something one regularly sees.
Bugger.
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do eeet, do eeeet. *evil grin*
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if anything, it was the jargon page that almost sold me. I love anything with its own jargon...
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We don't bite, really! Also, we have chat. Info's on the
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Can't do it!
Anyone up for an online fork fight instead?