Dfok , my boy, I'm your man.
As a lad I did the sail round in 1921, having given the Hun a serious pasting in the big one and while resting up for round two in 1939. At the time we lived in less restrictive times and while the lads at the Empire Services Club were less than enthusiastic my crew and I wore nowt but Hula girls shirts in all but the chilliest of weather. Well all but Dwight who insisted I'd said skirt not shirt.
Having dissed the Hun, the Ities and those nasty little Nipponese chappies in '45 we set out again but oh we were alarmed at the changes come over the world. Where once gay Jack Tars greeted us with encouraging shouts of approval now we were faced with reproach for bearing our loins with such abandon.
Dwight still clung to his skirted ways and was hustled off to the brig when we first entered foreign ports and while he could not bring himself to confess what manner of ill treatment he suffered he did seem to take it with good grace, indeed at times seemed a little to eager to be taken in hand by the port police.
I do worry about that boy. He slipped away in Sydney one afternoon and hasn't been heard from since.
So please be warned. The right to wear garishly coloured polyester emblazoned with images of semi naked dusky young gels is not universal. Enshrined it may be in you American chappies's constitution but tell that to one of these damnable native wallahs in far flung Auckland and you may well well regret your choice of attire.
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"Those are my principles, and if you don't like them... well, I have others." Julius Henry Marx.
Last edited by tdw; 04-05-2011 at 11:45 PM.