Get out of my way off the gangway, Purser. I am heading
directly to the
Capt.-Adm Commodore, I hear she's got a real itch to scratch and none of you primitive screw-heads know whether she's a witch, or she's Irish, or if she got fucked the wrong way by an Irish Setter, or -what-? Yeah, no one knows anything, except for one thing:
I wouldn't call her a bitch if I were you. Like,
ever. Just
do not do it. Anyway, if you hear her screaming, I'm sure that won't be unusual--if you hear me screaming, well Lad, it's nice to have met you, now get your filthy paw out of my face before you get back a fuckin' hook, you job-stealing motherfucker.
And if she tells me to fuck you next, it's going right in your ear. (I ain't like that. Poop?
Eewww,
gross.) You don't fucking talk to people like that, by the way.
You never know: the next g*y walking towards you might be your new...
Leader.
