Ahoy me mateys! I write this 'ere letter from a ship headin' from the coast o' Rarchestarr to Bawston. She's an old craft, but is quite speedy on the concrete seas. I be in Bawston fur th' weekend, seein' me mateys an' hearin the fine sounds of Delerium. Send me some word if ye be wantin' to meet up Satarday ur Sunday. Me ol' "sell-fone"'ll be right as rain so ye can give me a hollar on that there work o' witchcraft. I can't promise much, though, as me mateys may very well be takin' up all me time.
Aye, me lads and lassies: 'case ye hadn't heard th' word, today be Talk Like a Pirate Day. Save th' day me mateys, this be the best day of the yearrrr.
Yarrr. Mark me words, ye scurvy scallywags. They say lassies arn't ta be on a ship. Aye, it's not th' lassies but their chilluns who're ta be left at port. Thar be one such chillun 'board this 'ere vessel an' 'e be squeelin' like a gull o'er a fresh catch. I'm of mind ta toss th' lily-livered rascal in the brig an' see 'ow 'e likes th' looks of th' bars.
Here be me attempt at a unicode pirate smiley: ṗ-1
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