Who Drank All ‘O Me Cap’n?

You wanna know what’s more horrible than moving? Realizing there’s not one drop of Captain (my very favorite liquor) in your bar loot (naturally the first boxes I unloaded in my new mini manse) as you unpack.

Terror setting in.

Terror setting in. Where’s Captain Jack Sparrow (I’d settle for just Johnny Depp) when you need him?

I wanted to sip on a Skinny Pirate as I was organizing my precious possessions (wine, champagne, liquor, cordials, moonshine) but could not find one drop of Captain Morgan (I think I might have guzzled it all in a shocked state of having to move against my will with a few weeks notice) among the dozens (I know you thought I’d say hundreds) of bottles before me.

What the F?!

What the FUCK?! WHERE’S MY CAPTAIN?

By my reactive state, you would have thought I was told I had three minutes left to live (and to be truthful, that’s kinda how it felt. When you need your drink, you need your drink!). In full freak out mode, I left no bottle unturned. And because I’m such a fabulous treasure hunter (you should see me at TJ Maxx), I dug up an airplane bottle full of my favorite liquid.

May be on a few drops but a few drops desperately needed!

Saved myself from walking the plank.

It may have been only a few drops but a few drops desperately needed! And I learned an extremely important lesson…When times are tough, don’t act like a scallywag and only buy one bottle of your favorite spirit. Buy an entire case, arrrrr! And maybe get a parrot to sit on your shoulder.

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.

CBXB

CBXB!