Sailor's Pub.... - Page 41

SailChick20 · #**401** (**permalink**) 02-20-2009

Quote:

Originally Posted by sailaway21

Damn, you work long hours, Chick. "Course the way we tip around here, I s'pose it's a necessity.

I got a beef with management.

Sway! You're already violating the contract we agreed to (see previous page of this thread)...or that I agreed you to...oh whatever. Hope that skirt I sent you fits.

ps...thanks for the counseling session today.

sailaway21 · #**402** (**permalink**) 02-20-2009

CP,
Move down here. I gotta tell ya the story about this guy, the first time I was assigned as the medical officer on the ship, who had this hard-on that wouldn't go down. Came up out of Cochin and through the canal, by the time we wested the Gib I knew something wasn't right. A two week boner with no signs of relief. Put him off in the Azores and never did here what he caught. Damn ordinary (seaman) quit in Balto just 'cause the Bosun made him clean the head after. It was pretty nasty, what with the guy aiming from five feet away for two weeks. Gotta watch yer' wedding tackle in that there Cochin.

werebeagle · #**403** (**permalink**) 02-20-2009

Quote:

Originally Posted by SailChick20

4am flight, Charlie.

Can't wait to copy you and be barefooted!

You don't have to wait until the BVI. Nothing wrong with bare feet in Chicago in February (or January for that matter.)

sailaway21 · #**404** (**permalink**) 02-20-2009

"counseling"? That weren't no counseling. I just told ya to whack that Catalina sailor upside the noggin with a mug the next time he pretends he dropped something on the floor when you walk by. He's done it about three times now, he thinks a bowline is a line that runs from the bow, and every time bestfriend talks about broaching under the Golden Gate, he says, you mean the golden triangle. Hit 'em sorta accidental like, repeatedly.

craigtoo · #**405** (**permalink**) 02-20-2009

Quote:

Originally Posted by sailaway21

Damn, you work long hours, Chick. "Course the way we tip around here, I s'pose it's a necessity.

I got a beef with management. Who the heck decided we needed chairs at the bar? We've got chairs at the tables...well there's something like chairs next to those packing crates, anyway. Chairs at the bar are bad luck. Ships, real ships..not those people carriers, don't have chairs at the bar. And when you put chairs at the bar you know what you get? You get yuppy nitwits, usually split-tails, who sit down to discuss such important matters as what the new black is, this year, and prevent the rest of the patrons from telling impossible lies along the length of the bar. You get two Sex in the City bimbos comparing nail polish all night long while they prevent the two guys to their left from discussing the merits of the Spanish bowline with the two guys to their right. And these split-tails expect to have a nice, private, uninterrupted conversation, for two hours. That's what chairs get you. We got tables for the Oprah crowd, with chairs.

It ain't anti-woman. Heck, I think my mother was a woman. But if you're at the bar, you're fair game for conversation or at least not impede the conversation. You can stand. If you can't stand, you don't belong at the bar or somebody will help you up and get you another drink.

Get rid of them damn chairs before somebody thinks they're drinking in Cheers or some damn place that Seinfeld would hang out. And, no lady, that ain't paint on your chair, I think it's seagull guano off me pants. Deal with it!

BAhahahah!