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On my rough days, I find myself wondering the same thing....and then I remember what I was thinking when I decided to be a nurse:
If a Twinkie falls in the woods, would it still survive a nuclear blast?
But enough musings about sunshine colored puffed pastries stuffed with stardust, rainbows, and the tears of angels all swirled together into some strange concoction like so much manna from heaven.
In my rough days, when the world has decided that rightSTATnow everything must short out, blow apart, crash over, try to die or just...go so wrong so quickly, I sometimes find myself daydreaming about what I would like to be when I grow up.
You see, I want to be a pirate.
A proper pirate.
I will have many minions, a stout fleet of ships, and plenty of stock of canons, shells and powder. I will pillage and plunder and terrorize the high seas. I may even consider growing a beard to offset my newly acquired snaggle tooth. I will be missing a leg. Absolutely. But my wooden peg will house a small cask of ale so I may take a nip to keep my bones warm on the most chilled nights at sea.
I be known to all lan'lubbers as the Great Captain BloodyMary the Frilly. But do not let me name fool ye.
I be merciless. Tyrannous. Yar! Thar be no name more afeared than that o' the great BloodyMary. Me parrot be named Tuttle an' his song can summon the Kraken ou' the chilled bones o' the blimey deep!