At work, normally I have milk and one or two types of juices stocked in our mini-refrigerator (everyone else favors soda, or maybe Gatorade). Unfortunately, I was already running late this morning, so couldn’t stop by the grocery store before work to pick up any drinks.

For lunch, I had a Kerrybane (ie, Philly cheesesteak–not a usual choice for me) and water, and really felt like a drink with taste, which would normally be covered by the juice supply. Of course, there was none left. Rummaging through the refrigerator presented the possible drinks:

• Water (as if I didn’t have plenty of my own)
• Coke
• Diet Coke
• Sprite
• Sprite Zero
• Diet Dr. Pepper
• Someone else’s Gatorade
• Ginger Ale
• Root Beer

Ah! Root beer! I didn’t feel like soda, but root beer is one of my preferred carbonated beverages if there’s nothing else. The sound of the can opening, the liquid hitting the bottom of the glass, and the fizzy bubbles bumping against each other only increased the anticipation of consuming the rarely drunken carbonated beverage. As the rich brown liquid hit my taste buds, I realized something…

It didn’t taste that good. Even five years ago, it would have absolutely hit the spot. I’ve heard that taste buds change as you age…just another sign that I’m getting old.

As much as Western and Arab media differ in their points of view, they both agree that North Korea has the oddest government in the world:

In 2002, for example, according to South Korea’s ministry of unification, celebrations for Kim Jong-il’s 60th birthday led to a 36 per cent drop in industrial productivity.

Granted, in the United States, we have an event which hurts productivity just as much. It’s called March Madness.

Check out this position (the whole game can be seen here):

I played Rxe8, sacrificing the Rook for a Knight and a Pawn. This was to disturb Black’s major pieces and put some pressure on his Queenside Pawns. Apparently, the idea wasn’t completely nuts (Fritz judged the resulting position as even). Several moves later, I made a couple bad moves and had a lost game. But it should have been a much better fight.

Here was our post mortem, in full:

Me: “Man, I think I should have had that game.”
Him: “No, you shouldn’t have taken that Knight; a Rook is more valuable than a Knight.”

While I sat there stunned, the kid went to talk to his friends. That couldn’t be the extent of his thinking. Surely, SURELY, he understands the concept of sacrificing material for positional factors. I mean, he’s a class A player, right? Or maybe he’s one of those kids who are so good tactically, he causes old-fart Experts to go into (mental) hysterics.

Bruce Reed of Slate has been kind enough to share this bit of wisdom from a report by COPS (Community Oriented Policing Services):

It is important to note that engaging in same-sex activity does not necessarily imply a homosexual identity; in fact, many men who have sex with men in public places are married or otherwise heterosexually involved, and do not consider themselves to be gay.

So if pursuing gay sex isn’t necessarily an indicator of being gay, what is?

The Mascot continued to shout piratey inanities even after I parried his assassination attempt.

I must apologize for yesterday, when the Mascot filled in for me. It looks like all he did was say “ye” every other word and “Arrrr” every other sentence. Plus he was supposed to respond to your comments, which he never did, so I will get around to doing so in his stead.

He wasn’t kidding about trying to kill me. After getting back home last night, the Mascot jumped out from behind a bush sort of dressed like Captain Morgan and brandishing a cutlass. He started blabbering stuff like “It be servin’ ye right if ye get killed by a mutineerin’ pirate,” and other such nonsense. The only reason I couldn’t kick his butt is because he doesn’t have one. He’s a completely inept fighter and is currently receiving care at whatever hospital eggs go to when they need surgery.

I doubt the Mascot will make a return anytime soon, but he is under contract, so I might as well get as much mileage out of him as possible.

I be doin’ some research and it not be the case that the pirates of ol’ really had be talkin’ like this. My cap’n be a fool, and those landlubbers Ol’ Chumbucket and Cap’n Slappy be startin’ a fake holiday wi’ fake history and fake premise. Me would be quittin’ right now, except me need to be receivin’ my gold at the end of the day. And to be gettin’ me gold, I need to be talkin’ like a pirate for some more sentences. Curses!

Arrrr.

I be killin’ Cap’n Donnie when he get back tonight. Arrrr. Then he be understandin’ the word mutiny. Arrrr. Until then, I still be talkin’ like a pirate ’cause I still be under contract. Arrrr.

If ye be havin’ a normal job lucky punk, ye can try this for fun:

Ye should be tryin’ talkin’ like a pirate to ye customers. Then ye boss will be making ye walk the plank. O fire ye if he not have a plank for ye to walk on. If ye ne can be speaking with customers to ruin ye company’s honor, ye can start confrontin’ ye boss with pirate talk. Then ye no havin’ to be worryin’ about work the next day, matey.

Then swig some rum and eat a lime to ward off the stinkin’ scurvy. And buy ye a parrot for ye starboard shoulder as well.

Arrrr.

Ye landlubbers may be noticin’ today’s looks be pirate-themed. It even be my face that be plasted o’er ye Jolly Roger.

Tomorrow, I will be gone on business which is unfortunate timing, really. That’s because September 19 is Talk Like a Pirate Day, so I won’t be able to be with you (so to speak) for the celebrations.

The Liquid Egg Product Mascot will be filling in tomorrow with all sorts of piratey goodness (or at least, that’s what’s supposed to happen). So check it out! It’s going to be novel! It’s going to be piratey! And it’s probably going to be…lame…