So there we were, cruising across the ocean (well, kayaking across a protected harbor), minding our own business (a.k.a., staring at all the boats and wondering at the names), when the pirate ship rushed in, ready to Pillage (or was it Burn? I never quite remember). We, of course, defended our ships successfully, tho' not without cost. One lucky pirate - the captain, of course - managed to get in a lucky hit, leaving me with a long cut across my forehead which bled forever and stung like the dickens.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. I do have the scratch to prove it, and never mind the innocent-looking kitties over in the corner who would probably tell you that Kipling was messing with Blake at 3-in-the-frickin'-morning and when leaping to get away, Blake managed to catch me with one of his sharper claws right across my forehead.
We had to spend Sunday recovering (can you just imagine a 3" cut like that in salt water? I can, so we took a rain check on kayaking that day), and Monday we drove around the Bay area looking for other places we might want to rent kayaks.
Damn pirates. They sure can change one's plans!
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