Captain’s log, day 103

Expect the unexpected… that’s what they taught me in pirate school when I first started. Whether it’s a bunch of soldiers stowed away on a ship which you thought had no defenses, or a mythical sea creature that starts nibbling on your ship, you should always take into account that something, somewhere can and will go wrong somehow. Too bad there is no pirate school, and I didn’t learn that there, because maybe I could have seen this coming. The event that led to me being in jail, not the guard that tackled me. Even if I had foreseen his move I still don’t think I can dodge a damn mountain hurtling at me like a wolf pouncing on an unsuspecting fawn. I think I could literally taste my jaw-bone. It was mildly amusing.

Either way, I suppose the reason I’m in here is fairly due to my own failure to take into account the fact that I should rarely, if ever, spend time anywhere where my crew is. They tend to be unruly… that is if you consider cutting a man’s throat because you think he gave you a smaller pint of ale (which you only saw smaller because of how dead drunk you were) as being unruly. The fact that one of my men also beat the squishy insides out of a wench, only served to bring about even more unwanted attention.

Thus, by the time I could actually get out of there and start recruiting a new crew, I felt my brain slam against my cranium as if it were a prisoner and my skull was the prison. It was quite pleasant afterwards, when I could feel an acute tingling in my legs and arms. I failed to establish whether it was from brain damage, or the 400 lbs of pure rage crushing my ribcage.

My cellmates are pleasant folk. Or at least they would be, if I had any. I’m apparently seated in the best cell in the prison because it’s always in perfect shape since only prisoners who are to be executed the day following their apprehension are sent here. Considering the risk-cost ratio, I think I would have preferred a shittier cell. Or at least a decent last meal. Half rotted potatoes aren’t good, regardless of season or preference. Although they have a unique texture to them, I suppose.

I need to find a way to get out of here… and quick…

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As always, it’s been a while since I wrote a post. For anyone wondering, I actually used a special calculator to determine how many days have passed since I moved to the apartment. The bad news is, I’m actually moving out of it now. ‘Tis a sad development, however I must bid adieu to living with my friends and I must go back to my parents. The factors involved in taking this decision are numerous and I will not go into them at this point.

It’s not to say it hasn’t been a particularly pleasant experience. I really wish I could stay longer, but you don’t always do what you want in life, now do you?

The bitterness of this is softened by the fact that I’m going to go with my friends to the seaside on the 1st of May week-end, which is awesome. Three days of getting hammered until my tongue feels like a shovel and my head feels like whatever’s left after you put about 10 sticks of dynamite in a piece of swiss-cheese, lit them and watched the fireworks. I hope it’s going to be just as epic as last year’s outing was, if not more so.

I may write another movie review one of these days, since I now have a really nice movie to talk about, but I’ll save the surprise for later.

See ya around.

~ by terriblespidermonkeys on April 23, 2010.