Stuff Knight People Like

I assume you've heard of www.stuffwhitepeoplelike.com (and if not, there's a kindly provided link).

I present to you, my satire of a satire, www.stuffknightpeoplelike.blogspot.com.

Items my born consumer self must have NOW

http://www.thinkgeek.com/homeoffice/lights/a446/

The only problem is it would make hygiene difficult, as I'd be constantly standing there giggling at its cleverness.

http://www.thinkgeek.com/tshirts/sciencemath/8953/?cpg=ab

Maaaan, back in the day ZINC was all I listened to... you don't get music like the Halogens used to do nowadays.

http://www.cafepress.com/objectivemin.50869699

How can you argue with that face? *flees to pray*

http://www.thinkgeek.com/tshirts/popculture/9f70/

I intend to copy this one with actual stickers shortly for the benefit of the 1/10 (awesome) people who have seen this movie and love it as they should. The other 9/10 will think my name is actually Inigo Montoya which will cause much confusion and distress BUT IT WILL BE WORTH IT.

Remember: never start a land war in Asia.

Why does it take pirates so long to learn the alphabet? Because they spend years at a time at C!

*croaks* Avast, ye landlubbers-- gah, it's over now. I need some time to adjust. It was International Talk Like A Pirate Day yesterday and I was awoken by a cheerful "yaaar!" from my father (my response: "mrhhnhhh"). Donning my eyepatch and bandana and swarthy seadog persona as First Mate Kazaa, Alex and we made our way to college. Classics went well; our teacher, whilst not entirely believing that such a day existed, humoured us by reading a chapter from Thucydides on pirates. By philosophy I was nursing an already sore throat and when I put my glasses on over my eyepatch my pirate hating teacher unfairly commanded that I remove it.

After college, there was some time to rest and recuperate before the main quest began. In the evening I and eleven other pirates descended upon inner London in a search for pirate brethren in Southbank. We commandeered one of those red, double decker sailing vessels, settling in the front half of the top floor, yarring and arring until eventually the other passengers up there got off or slipped downstairs (or yarred back! but not many). Amusing pirate innuendos made use of at this stage of the journey: "Don't put your cutlass in me poop deck", "I'm going to swash your buckles", "I'll give you a tenner to shiver me timbers". To show that we had dominion over this Spanish galleon, we hoisted a flag every time the driver stopped (example shown in the rendition at the top, unfortunately I have no actual photographs of this sight), but the viewers didn't seem to run in fear, rather just laugh. Pah, how's a Dread Pirate Roberts supposed to strike fear into the civilians if they're laughing all the time?

Arriving... somewhere, I've forgotten, a strong thought was on everyone's minds: Cap'n Jack Sparrow himself famously said "where's the rum?". But soon we found rum, and there was much rejoicing (some kind of alcoholic appletizer for one of the wenches and beer for others). This journey would become an epic one as we strolled through London town being very loud and noisy and tipsy BUT NOT yobbish because we were pirates and they do that sort of thing! Plus most of the twelve were girls. Amusing phrases uttered by strangers that I heard: "Are you dressed like this because it's Pirate Day?", "fucking stupid pirates", "arr harr hoi hoi hoi!". The rum numbed our feet and our throats and so we were free to go on pirating in the vague direction of Southbank keeping a keen eye out for other pirates. But as we trekked past Leicester Square, Trafalgar Square, some fountain where we all became various degrees of wet, it became clear that either the others had taken to the sea, were residing in an inn somewhere or had been captured by the Crown.

The Tate Modern had a big astroturf field outside it and some giant astroturf furniture so we made it our Port for awhile, drinking and fighting and some heading off to use the modern art gallery's toilets (Jack: It's hard going to the toilet using a hook. What? I washed it afterwards!"). Taking a walk down alongside the river, we met a nice busker and asked him to play us a shanty. He played Sloop John B which was nice (perhaps not very shantyish) and we threw some money for him. Then we arrived at a sight bizarre enough to rival our own group; dozens of people in similar clothes with the same bowler hats all walking across the bridge. They wouldn't tell us where they got the hats but one explained that they were on some sort of sponsored night run. We got talking to one of them (who seemed incredulous at our ages, and our outfits and our rum) who asked enough questions for me to accuse him of being an Agent of the Crown. He told me he was in fact an Agent of the Crown, and Rosie 2 exclaimed "what, you don't look Asian at all!". Then we parted ways, leaving our impression on those we had talked to, having enjoyed some good rum and having spread the message of international talk like a pirate day to many.