Parrothead_Diver
Contributor
OK, I know that I am going to get flamed for this by somebody, but I found this earlier today and thought that it ran true...
"The sea is like one of them highborn Spanish ladies: ye can love her, but ye can't trust her. One minute she's as placid as a sea-cow and yer sailin' along as easy as kiss-my-hand, everybody leanin' on the rail and spittin' to leeward; the next she throws a hurricane at ye, and yer runnin' as if all the hounds of hell was on your tail, swearin' that if ye gets out of this alive ye'll never set foot on a boat again.
But ye always do go back to her, see? Because, despite her bein' an untrustworthy, ungrateful, murderous wench and all, ye bloddy well do love her, more than life itself.
Argh. And that's all the bloody peotry ye'll be gettin' out of me today."
"The sea is like one of them highborn Spanish ladies: ye can love her, but ye can't trust her. One minute she's as placid as a sea-cow and yer sailin' along as easy as kiss-my-hand, everybody leanin' on the rail and spittin' to leeward; the next she throws a hurricane at ye, and yer runnin' as if all the hounds of hell was on your tail, swearin' that if ye gets out of this alive ye'll never set foot on a boat again.
But ye always do go back to her, see? Because, despite her bein' an untrustworthy, ungrateful, murderous wench and all, ye bloddy well do love her, more than life itself.
Argh. And that's all the bloody peotry ye'll be gettin' out of me today."
