This particular curse is an essential part of anyone's anchoring tackle, together with a small plastic bag of modeling clay and a packet of pushpins. When some idiot comes along and spoils the privacy of your pretty little cove by anchoring practically on top of you, form the clay into the rough shape of the offending skipper. While glaring at the little effigy with all the vitriol you can muster, repeat the following curse, inserting a pin into the effigy as often as directed:
A CURSE ON THOSE WHO ANCHOR TOO CLOSE
A pox upon you, rotten miserable anchor dropper! (Jab.) May you rot in hell. (Jab.)
O frightful scum, let there be no sleep for you. (Jab.) O jerk of the first water, let your dreams be nightmares of osmosis, sludge in your tanks, oil in your bilges, and overflowing holding tanks. (Jab.)
May the Coast Guard constantly board you, and search you, and frighten the very marrow from your bones. (Jab.)Let the jet-skis find you and plague you with their wakes and deafen you with their exhausts (Jab) and drive you crazy with their banal cries of joy until you cry for mercy; and yea, yet shall your cries go unheeded. (Jab.)
O uncomprehending moron, all this and more I heap upon your empty head, Captain Semi-Brainer, (Jab) and may you suffer the sorrow you so richly deserve. So be it. (Jab.)Today's Thought
I have heard a good man say that a curse was like a stone flung up to the heavens, and maist like to return on the head that sent it.
— Scott, Old Mortality
"Why are you limping?"
"I went to a seafood disco last night and pulled a mussel."
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