Saturday, September 16, 2006

Avast, me hearties....

Yarrgh! It's time, me buccaneers and buccanettes, to hoist th' mains'l on th' good ship Sixth Amendment and set sail in search of booty and justice on th' highest o' th' high seas. There be a legion o' scurvy dogs wearin' th' mark of the Crown, wreakin' injustice on me mateys, who want nothin' more than the comp'ny of a foine wench, a noggin o' rum, and a pinch o' smokin terbaccy in their bowls. They're a foine crew, if a bit motley, but they've done nothin to deserve th' sting o' th' lash and th' dank o' th' dungeon.

This Tuesday, when the sun climbs out of Davy Jones' Locker, we'll turn th' tides on those scalawags, because although the Sheriff's men may have th' warrants and th' guns, we've got the lingo.

We'll blow The Man down, or my name isn't Cap'n Roxtarrrrgh, Defender O' Th' Public and Scourge O' Th' Second Circuit!


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