Savvy?

Arrr, another Talk Like a Pirate Day has sailed off inter tha sunset, and yet again I find meself all alone at sea. Thare were rare few pieces-of-eight in this here sea of shipmates, and I found meself manning tha sails while everyone else was weighing anchor, if yer get my drift. A whole day devoted ter callin' yer shipmates scallywags and scurvy curs, swashing yer buckles and wondering why the rum's gone. It does seem a shame to lose something so fine, ain't it, lads? But tha devils of examinations rob tha fun of days like this, since them landlubbers have their noses pressed so close to their parchments they fail ter observe tha finer points in life.

Also, it be tha only day in tha whole year where yer can say, "Nice booty!" and get away with it. What's not ter like?

This year, I'd be comin' to tha realization that thare arr countless ways ter speak like a swashbuckler, without referrin' ter tha normal "Ahoy!", "Avast!" and "Aye!". That thare be simple talk, naught but fer simple pirates. Thare be much more ter piratin' that cannons and keelhauls; thare be storms and shipwrecks and Kraken and tha like. But arrr, they're more like guidelines than actual rules.

Unfortunately, I completely overlooked tha bearing of this particular circadian until tha postmeridian temporal, atwhich tha bisected diurnal had erstwhile dissipated, and although my efforts in aggrandizing this festivity was ineffectual, and my acquaintences were disinclined to acquiesce to my request. Means "no".

Arrr, but if ye consider time zones, it still be midday in tha Caribbean!

I'll be damned to tha depths of Davy Jones' Locker if I'll be stopped by tha likes of yer.
*Captain* Edna Mann