I have been aboard ship for a day now.
I haven’t seen that much of it though; apart from the small box they had me in for a few hours, and now the Captains cabin.
I'm alone (only being able to blog when nobody’s looking, I have to wave my right hand around in an erratic manner to communicate with you through my trusty right hand back there in your time, it makes me look like a mentalist, but it’s the only way) The Captain isn’t here, but I can see my clothes (jeans, trainers, T-shirt) and my bag on his table.
I didn’t see them arrive, and have no idea what Right-Hand put in my bag.

Somehow Right-Hand can see where I’m going when I jump, Pretty handy when being churned through time, but he is a lazy fecker, and all the bag contains is anything within 5 feet of the keyboard he lives on.

Captain Edward “Blackbeard with little white sticky bits in" Teach walks into the room and announces himself and welcomes me aboard his “glorious vessel”, The Jolly Rogerer.

The Captain is quite a large chap, but his voice, dress sense and manner doesn’t quite match his stature as the most fearsome pirate to sail the seven seas. He comes across much like you would imagine a 50 year old theatre director from Bristol who lives alone with his needy mother, and had a torrid affair with Christopher Biggins during the 1984 panto season.

He told me that my arrival was fortunate, as this was ladies week aboard The Jolly Rogerer and that his “super dooper party” was in full swing, what with this and the last lady exploding during a drunken game of get in the cannon, I couldn’t have “popped out of the sky” at a better time.
He pointed effeminately towards a ripped gingham frock and a blue sash (with “buggering station” written on it) draped over a chair at the back of the luridly decorated (lime and pink!) cabin.
He excitedly told me that this was going to be my crew-mans uniform from now on, that he was glad to have someone aboard with such pretty buttocks, and if I don’t get broken by the ravenous pack above deck will find myself with a special position, at the Capatains table, strapped to it.
Then he opens my bag on his desk. What surprises has Right-Hand put in there for me?

Great, the daft bastard has packed the Ipod along with my new portable speakers, an old copy of Take-a-Break, some post-it notes, and a large jar of Vaseline.
Great, I’m doomed.

Blackie (as he insists I now call him) wasn’t too interested in any of the items, he was slightly puzzled by the Ipod, but seemed happy when I explained that it was a pillbox given to me by me dear old Mama, and was of no real value. He couldn’t read so the Take-a-Break was safe, and he didn’t like the taste of the Vaz, and didn’t think too much of its cutlass cleaning properties. He gave me the bag, and told me to keep it hidden from his gang of scurvy dogs, as they will inevitably try to burgle me one of these nights.

He told me a few of the boys will be down soon to put the frock and sash on me, and that I was free to chill out in his cabin for a few hours, and that he will bring me above decks a bit later for bit of a party.
I thanked Blackie for being so nice, for making me feel so welcome, and that he need not go to any trouble on my behalf

Almost forgot, Pirate facts.
Fact One: Pirates didnt wear eyepatches because they had poked their eyes out during pervy pirate games. They wore them so that one eye was always trained to see in the dark, making it easier to navigate by the stars.

Fact Two:When someone says they have you over a barrel, they are actually implying that they have you tied up in a popular method of pirate bondage, and I can tell you its not funny, the rope is burning my wrists and ankles, and have got some rather severe splinters in my belly!

I can hear someone coming down the hall towards this cabin, back soon...........