I swear, it’s totally historically accurate.
OK, probably not.
Getting fishnets over a peg leg would be a right pain in the ass.
But you know what may have been historically accurate and led some poor soul to this blog?
At least one person out on the big, blue interwebz found me with that query.
It was originally planned as a joint party for my father and me, as our birthdays are only a week apart. Life happened, a year passed, and it was decided to just bump it to Pirate Day since that was our chosen theme anyway.
Can’t have a birthday without a birthday cake!
We happen to have in the family/friend circle someone that actually enjoys that cooking and baking stuff. (My stepmother was planning on doing a cake but ended up having surgery on her wrist just before the party. I know I wouldn’t be able to make a cake with only one hand.)
This thing was fucking huge.
I forgot how many layers were in it, but the answer was in the double digits. We’re talking wedding cake amount of layers.
The planking on the deck is made of Kit-Kat bars, yum! The sails are woven fruit roll up strip things. Fruit by the Foot? Something like that. The portholes are gingersnaps.
It was very nummy and if I had eaten any more I would have turned diabetic right on the spot.
Being a pirate-themed party, costumes were required.
Me and my swashbuckling dad!
The hat and coat were my birthday presents.
That hat is solid leather and was hand made just for me. Weighs a ton and could be used as a weapon in a pinch. I think I only tagged one person in the head with it while turning to look at something. Next up is to collect doodads to decorate it with. I’m thinking of pheasant feathers and brass trimmings.
The coat is also hand made (by my step mother) and just happened to match my costume, which was pretty cool. The coat itself was not cool in that it was made of wool and we were experiencing a rather warm September. So unfortunately the coat was worn for pictures and then it was hung back up to be admired. Which is just as well, I probably would have sloshed something on it if I had worn it during the party. It needs some buttons and then it’s ready to be worn as a real coat, not just as a costume.
My dad also gave me a little parrot that says delightful things like “Polly wants a fucking cracker!” and “Hey baby, show us your tits!” I’m thinking the parrot may pop up in vent some night.
The whole backyard was done up. There was an outdoor bar all decorated, a sitting area done in a voodoo sort of theme, the center of the yard was a couple masts with sails, a cannon, and the ship’s wheel, off to the side was a free-standing stocks for photo opportunities.
Best memory of the night is my father hammered beyond comprehension attempting to explain that I helped provide focus for him as he repeatedly failed with basic motor skill functions. I’m so glad I didn’t have to clean up the spilt beer the next day.
Second best memory is the result of my stepsister’s boyfriend trying to keep up with my uncle in drinking. The poor young pup ended up laid out before half the guests arrived. You do not fuck with my family when it comes to drinking.
Helpful hint: When doing jello shots with rum, do a top layer without alcohol to avoid everyone asking if there is NyQuil in the shots.
Me and a certain hunter:
A merry time was had by all and I hope we can do it again next year.