"Anne Bonny and Mary Read were pirates, as renowned for their ruthlessness as for their gender, and during their short careers challenged the sailors’ adage that a woman’s presence on shipboard invites bad luck."
Sculpture by Erik Christianson.
I’m not entirely sure that the statue really needed to have a tit out.
How dare women try to have nipples.
Actually I’ve seen this before and I can tell you— it’s because these women were bad ass pirates and when they killed someone they’d expose one or both breasts so that when their victim died, (s)he knew that they were killed by a woman.
ACTUALLY Anne Bonny purposely wore loose fitting clothes and displayed her breasts openly at all times during battle - mainly because men were distracted by them, and she took pleasure in killing said men while they were too busy staring at her breasts. Mary Read dressed mainly as a man (after posing as her deceased brother, Mark, for the entirety of her childhood) and both ladies cross-dressed from time to time, hopping between ships. They were known as the ‘fierce hell cats’ due to their ferocious tempers, and were key elements to Captain ‘Calico Jack’ Rackham’s crew - they were the only two known female pirates in the Golden Age of Caribbean piracy. IN FACT, when the ship was captured by the British Navy, Anne and Mary were the ONLY TWO pirates who fought while the males of the crew hid - they were all tried to be hung as pirates but Bonny and Read were both pregnant and were pardoned.
Calico Jack was a lover to Bonny, and as he was to be hung, Bonny’s final words to him were, “Had you fought like a man, you need not be hung like a dog.” Bonny and Read were possibly two of the most badass fucking pirates and they were FEMALE. The more you know.
The Titanic theme played on the recorder.
here’s a picture of drool on my tablet from me laughing so hard
I AM ACTUALLY CRYING FROM LAUGHING
My grandma just came into my room and asked if i was ok she thought i was in pain or something but NO THATS NOT IT IM LAUGHING SO GODDAMN HAR DJESUS FUCKIFNG CRHISFT
MY DOG IS BARKING AT IT OMG
OMFG I WAS LISETING TO THIS I COULDN’T FEEL MY SIDES, THEN I SEEN THE PICTURE OF THE DROOL AND ROLLED OFF MY BED I CANT!!!
MY HALLMATES ARE TEXTING ME TO SHUT UP BECAUSE IT’S 2 AM AND THEY HAVE A FINAL TOMORROW BUT I CAN’T STOP HELP ME
Things were going so well, then I got smack in the face with a pile of “What the ever loving f***?!?!?”
THAT FUCKING SCREECHING AT THE END, OH MY GOD
I have subjected my partner to this, with hilarious results. Now I do the same to you (again).
DAMNIT I AM BABYSITTING AND I’M TRYING SO HARD NOT TO WAKE THEM UP LAUGHING.
I couldn’t finish. I was laughing so hard I thought I might be sick. For real.
IDK why, but this is hilarious.
Maybe it’s because of my childhood experiences.
I went to a grade school for gifted kids. We were the smartest kids in the state, we had the best curriculum in the state. We went to all these tournaments, for spelling, for computers, for science, for math. We took field trips to the university to play with hazardous chemicals and cow organs. We were golden children, is what I’m saying. They wouldn’t even let you IN if you didn’t score above 115 on an IQ test, I think. (I now know this is elitist bullshit, btw.)
But we had the worst music program I have ever seen in my life.
So for an hour a day all these kids from ages 8 to 12, like fifteen of us, would sit in a semicircle around the teacher and we would play.
For three years. THREE YEARS. We never improved.
The teacher never had us perform in front of the adults. In retrospect, it was because we were so terrible she couldn’t. Even our parents’ unconditional love would not have made it tolerable. We were that bad. It never got better. There were so many of us, and some of us hated it, I hated it, but some of us, some of us liked it, which was worse.
It didn’t matter if we loved or hated it, though. It didn’t matter that we were the smartest kids for two hundred miles. We were all bad at it, we were bad at it forever.
I bought a new recorder every year. I lost them every year. A mouthpiece detached, gone astray. A chip in one. Another just vanished into the black hole of my closet, jammed under a pile of matted stuffed animals and old board games. I hoped they would stay gone. But the new ones came all the same. They came home with me in my red Nickelodeon backpack. They came home with my name written in Sharpie or laundry pen, bleeding into the plastic with the rubbing of tiny thumbs.
She was insistent that we buy the ivory kind, not the brown kind.
I still don’t understand. We never performed. Nobody was ever going to see us. See me. She had no reason to care.
We had to keep them in their sleeves, and once a week we had to clean them out. We were not to switch recorders with anyone, ever. If we forgot ours, though, she had others. And we didn’t know who had played them, so we almost never forgot.
It sounded like someone torturing cats and owls while a mini pipe organ played in the background.
It sounded like literal Hell. Theme music for Bosch’s depiction of the damned. Lovecraft’s insane, mindless piping from the void.
Was it a three-year ritual to open a portal to Hell? Was that why they were all ivory, like the bones of the innocent? Was she torturing herself for her wrongs? Had she taken a human life and felt she had to atone? Did it drown out the screaming?
I think about her. How many more years did she stay? How many more children came and sat in that circle, tiny fingers fluttering over the holes in the plastic, making noises like tone-deaf kookaburras, playing Mary Had a Little Lamb and Edelweiss?
How long? How long did she live?
And I still don’t know why.
And I think that is why I laughed so hard I almost pissed myself. It’s not nostalgia, it’s the laughter of madness many years deferred, as I realized just how goddamn senseless it had all been.
I am still spasming periodically, like dry-heaving. I hurt.
Whoever did this, I hope you feel good about yourself.
I also need to download this, so can someone help me out, there? I’m afraid this will be lost to time and the internet, and it must be preserved for posterity.
oh my GOD. fuck the audio. that last piece of commentary is one of the funniest things i’ve read in my LIFE.
"you’re so full of yourself" is such a weird expression like what else would I be full of???? bees??? styrofoam?????