jackson weather: 43°f (6°c)
by Darren Schwindaman & Vince Falconi
August 20, 2008
The ultimate [FLY] Guy, in addition to being well-read, well-kempt and well-muscled, is also well-prepared. Traveling, for instance, can be a tricky business, especially with the various language barriers out there. To be truly [FLY], its essential to travel off the beaten path and converse with questionable characters. Speaking of whom, here are Sir Scurvy Dog of the Seven Seas and Igor the Immense to help you along your way.
I am an American. Touch me and my president will bomb your mothers potato garden.
Pirate: Avast! If ye lay a hand on me, me captain will broadside your wenchs potato garden the likes of which ye hast never seen.
Viking: I am Erik the Red. If you raise your ax against me, I will return the favor with the fury of Thors hammer on your mothers potato garden.
I am lost. Where is the hotel?
Pirate: A sack of doubloons for the landlubber who takes me to the nearest lodging!
Viking: By Odins beard, Ive lost my way. Where is the meadhall?
I am bleeding profusely. Where is the hospital?
Pirate: Avast! Ive been keelhauled! Where be ye amputatin deck?
Viking: Ive been hurt in combat and need no barber, for I am destined for Valhalla. Verily.
Can you show me where the bathroom is?
Pirate: Ahoy! I be needin to dump me booty.
Viking: Verily, I believe Loki is making mischief in my gut. Where is the trough?
How much is the beer?
Pirate: Ill be needin a barrel of ye sea-saltiest grog!
Viking: How much for a mug of your finest mead? What? I wont pay that! Arm yourself and face me in battle!
Please.
Pirate: Ill be takin those jewels off ye hands now.
Viking: GIVE IT TO ME!
Where is the American embassy?
Pirate: Where be the colonists fort? Me men be needin to point their cannons at something.
Viking: Where is the meadhall?
Sorry, I am into guys.
Pirate: Avert ye eyes, lassie; me swash doesnt buckle your way.
Viking: RAAAAAAAAAAWR! Arm yourself wench, for I dance on Bifrost, the rainbow bridge to Asgard!
I am allergic to Penicillin.
Pirate: Yargh! Ye scurvy concoction gives me bad omens.
Viking: What kind of witchcraft is this? Your old bread has made my skin red and itchy! ARM YOURSELF AND FACE ME IN BATTLE!
posted by on 08/20/08 at 04:08 PM. [printer-friendly version]
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