Booty: Blind Staggers
Just a quick visual today via the delightful Mid-Century on tumblr. Entitled … blind staggers the picture features – yes – actual booty. And who among us hasn’t faced this crewman’s dilemma: your drunken mate or the dame? I’ll let you decide each for themselves, Brethren; happy Friday!
5 comments:
Ahoy, Pauline! I'll take the dame. I'm sure my drunken mate will be fine and he'll never know the difference...
Just don't leave him in the gutter, mate.
Drunken mates:
(1) The First Shirt was once so inebriated that he tripped over a curb (go figure). But wait! There's more: he thought that it was someone picking a fight, so he picked a fight. With the curb. He lost.
(2) In 'po City, one of my boatswain's mates did not show up for quarters (go figure). He dragged in later - seems around midnight he saw two of the youngsters and sat down on the curb between them, advising them (with his years of experience) to make sure to leave plenty of time to get back. They did exactly that. Meantime, our hero (rather than following his own advice) passed out. He awakened (in the gutter) to (1) sunlight tickling his eyes (2) birds sweetly chirping or (3) balut vendors hollering. Probably a combination of (1) and (3). I spoke with the skipper, so that he would not lose a stripe or any pay. Indeed, no women-folk were involved, but lads, don't forget yer mateys!
I almost forgot: true story! (Both of 'em ;-)
Awesome; thankee Wally!
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