So, it's 2:00 on a friday, and I just want to drop anchor and go home. I was loaded to the gunwales last night and me tummy's not too happy with the slop I put in it 12 hours ago. I'd really like to curl up with a jack, but I've been havin' a hard time finding one that's not a squiffy or a sprog. I did get many pieces o' eight from the IRS refund, so I'll have to go bury my booty. And don't think I'll be leavin' a map, ye scurvy dogs.