There’s no doubtin’ some rough seas have passed under our keel since this time last year. First it was Hurricane Dorian tryin' to haul our entire island down to Davy Jones’s and while we was still settin’ about pumpin’ her dry up sails this cussed coronavirus catchin’ our hydrochloriquine-swillin’ lubber of a so-called commander-in-chief asleep at the wheel! Nivver trust a teetotalin’ science denier but AAARRRGH don’t get me started! Nah, lay off the Lysol, shipmates! Better to take aboard a tot o’ “Nelson’s blood.” It won’t prevent or cure the virus but it’ll ease the pain.
As one sage sea-lawyer of the internet put it, “If the coronavirus has taught us nothing else it’s that you don’t have to have fun to have grog!”
Ah, sure we be cast on the beach and scuppered by the virus. No pirate saturnalias or late night tavern crawls, but Avast! Don’t be like ye snivellin’ bilge rat of an attorney general who whines that social distancin’ is “slavery!” There’s worse fates than bein’ marooned. Think of poor ole’ Capt. Jack Sparrow stranded ashore on a tropical island with nothin’ but a campfire, a cache o’ rum, and a foxy lass to help him pass the time!
Remember, shipmates, “Never say ‘die’ when there’s shot in the locker!” We weathered the hard aftermath of Dorian by clappin' onto the line and haulin’ together. An’ we’re a far more seasoned crew as a result. As for this pandemic wench, we can heave-to and ride her out under storm canvas! Don ye masks, wash ye flippers, and keep ye distance!
And, for the love of Neptune, VOTE!! Let’s clear the quarterdeck and get some LEADERSHIP aboard this vessel!