Portsmouth Guaaaaaarrrrrrrrrdian for yer latest news

[black bart]

Bart's Bar Tab breaks all records due to thee hintrodukshun of Gyant Tankards:



Landlord of Admiral Benbow quits.

[Mad Willyum Bonney]

[

A million thanks to Mad Willlum Bonney.

No fank yeez recryerd Barty , ye did solve thee riddil affer all.

( juss dont go rown braggin to Rollin )

[pieces o'nine]

I always thought they were mermaids. Now where's me spectacles?

DaveL Makes Spectacle of Self with Dugongs!
Film at 11...

[Ravi Oli]

^ Yarrr pieces n' Willyum... yer know e's on weakend detenshun fer thart - hanimal crewelry or pubic hindecency or thee loike? Hunless it be sommat new?!

'E does thee Crocodile Hunter [may Thee FSM rest 'is sole] thing, jumpin on 'em frum 'is shippe and resselin them suggestivlely loike, ownly 'e wears a skimpy loincloth hinstead o'karkees. They 'as 'is pictcha up at awl thee Natshunal Parks bannin 'im entery.

^^ bart ye'd be tanked arfter 'arf o' one o' them tankards!!

[Mad Willyum Bonney]

Anyway, to get to the point...when I returned from holiday there was a card on the doormat saying a parcel had arrived and had been taken to the local Post Office. I turned up at the post office with my passport for identification and handed over the card. The lady behind the counter lifted up a very large parcel (about a foot and a half square) and looked at the address label...then she looked at my passport...

"You're not Bart", she said..."Oh yes I am", says I...hand reaching for my cutlass...

The parcel was addressed to Bart of course and I'm afraid that aint the name on me passport! She only believed me when I told her my correct post code...the cutlass slid back into the scabbard and she handed over the massive parcel.

A million thanks to Mad Willlum Bonney.

Bart .... tsk tsk ... ye haz yeer custifficates an yeer coyn ... an ye took wot wiff ye ?


Daff git ......

[black bart]

I forgot thee Black Bart coin which cleerlee dipikts me graven himage upon it!

On thee uvver hand I did manage to avoid bein arrested fer piracy.

[Mad Willyum Bonney]

^ Yarrr pieces n' Willyum... yer know e's on weakend detenshun fer thart - hanimal crewelry or pubic hindecency or thee loike? Hunless it be sommat new?!

'E does thee Crocodile Hunter [may Thee FSM rest 'is sole] thing, jumpin on 'em frum 'is shippe and resselin them suggestivlely loike, ownly 'e wears a skimpy loincloth hinstead o'karkees. They 'as 'is pictcha up at awl thee Natshunal Parks bannin 'im enter!!

Oil ave ye noe oi dosint aproof ove all Davys bidniss praktices . But oi luvs 'is intooseyasum!

[anthrobabe]

Whot be the latest news on who be the father of me 3rd ale wench Molly McHenry who runned off with DaveL's bosuns mate name of Flick-- me knows ole Flick lost his flick if ye gets me during tha last pirate 'ow many bands o rubber can ye fits on it challenge. Hit fell off. 'E canta be de fadder.

[Roy Hunter]

Oh he's over yonder in his castle.

Yonder lies da castle of da faddah.

[black bart]

Fifty Shades of Lady Jane Grey Shocks Portsmouth

A new novella published by a retired member of Madame Fifi's staff has scandalised the Portsmouth Public and Press. Set in the 16th Century the novel (which I haven't even looked at, honest) apparently tells the seductive tale of life at the Royal Court. I managed to get a synopsis from the authoress herself who told me: "There are naughty bits in chapters 3 through to 12 and a very naughty bit quite near the end, but otherwise I have based the story on real events". I asked her if the Spanish Inquisition was involved but she said she wouldn't tell as it would spoil the surprise.

Madame Fifi is 93.

[pieces o'nine]

On thee Waterfront

Olde tymers tho't they scene hit awl, but Portsmouf never seizes t'hamaze. Thee hinflux ov pirates wiv moor sofistickated ways an darin fashun statements inishally caused quite a stir. But fings as settled back down arfter rumors ov a 'ogs'ead o'rum on thee cap'ns tabbe at thee pubbe 'as won over even thee moste suspishus locals.

But now thee local takeaways be servin sum newe craze: Redde Cowe McSammitches. Fish head stoo sales be plummetin, wiv one delingkwent yoof sayin, "Fish'ead Stoo be soooo last milleneeum yo." Worse, no one 'as seen hyde nor wigge ov Bart Hindustries since thee newecomers arrived, leadin t'wilde speculashuns ov fowl play, or even that "Black Bart" an "Oz Nick" be wun an thee sayme cos ye nevver sees'em in thee sayme place at thee sayme toime. Arrrgh hintrepid reporters be sparin no hexpense t'huncover thee story...

[DaveL]

DaveL Plans to Invade England

In a disturbing development today, a slightly bedraggled castaway turned up in Portsmouth Harbour, screaming incoherently that DaveL and his scurvy bunch will be invading England in July 1714. 'YArrr, now Margaret Thatcher has left the building, there be now stoppin' him' he screamed!

The entire UK Dugong population will be relocating to Iceland in readiness for his impending visit.

[Griffin]

If this far feched rumer be troo, the peeple o' Portsmowth 'ad better be gettin' owt the barrycades and start collectin' brikks and ovver 'efty throwin' items. As fer Madam FiFi, she'd be wise ter organise fer her stafff ter 'av 1714 off.

[DaveL]

YArrr...

Tis true matey. Oi might 'ave to make a special detour to Portsmouth - for purely sight seein' reasons of course!

[pieces o'nine]

Dogge Days of Springe Afflict Portsmouth

Thee dogge days of Springe have struck thee Northern Latitudes, and Portsmouth is a paragon of inactivity as a result. Mayor Keith Liversausage is allegedly planning a Spanish expedition just to keep thee lads busy and out of trouble. Bart Industires is getting ahead of thee curve, hinting at a tantalizing product line for expediting pirates, and promising to unveil thee new division within a week.