Safe For Work Hotties

An Admiral leads a ship of great potential

The Admiral Hassenpfeffer has put into port here in lovely Tampa, Florida. We are having the oil leak examined and they have lowered a boom around the ship in order to keep us from fouling the water. But it's Florida, I keep saying. Who would realize we were leaking oil?

I have been out of contact for days--there was another squabble on the bridge and, this time, Miranda knocked Eva out cold. With the receiver device that connects the ship to the Internet. Hence, when we were at sea, patrolling and avoiding Hurricane Palomea or whatever, we had no connectivity. Eva was nursed back to health by the Dominicans, who have asked that we take them to the Dominican Republic at our earliest convenience. There is, apparently, some kind of "donkey show" type bar where Eva has agreed to be employed by the brother of Ernesto. I'm not even sure who Ernesto is, and I know very few of the crew.

You see, I have been burdened by command. My heart has been worn heavy by the desire to protect the America and the desire to be on dry land, living my life, finishing my home in Stone Lake, Maryland, and not living near where my ex-wives are located.

This sums up how melancholy I am:



Do you see the lights on the water as the Admiral Hassenpfeffer is moored there? Those are similar to the lights on the water one sees when jet skiing in the summertime in a no-wake zone in Vermont. Ah, memories. Memories.

Perhaps the person who pilots this tugboat:



is someone who I have wronged, perhaps on the blogs like Austin Bay or the Washington Monthly. I do not know. When we moved up the panhandle of Florida to Tampa, this craft was pursuing us, in a very leisurely way. I ordered all stop, handed out life vests and six hundred rounds of ammunition to Peej. The tug boat nearly blundered into our trap before moving off. I am convinced some liberal stole it and is now chasing us--I have been hesitant to say, but perhaps this blog is also to blame. Miranda convinced me not to put our latitude longitude readings in the blog, but I think we will return to that practice so Father can track us.

According to Google Mapping Software, we are here:


View Larger Map

And I will leave it at that. I have a ship to provision, some potential crewmen to interview, and I must stride these decks, forever alone with my thoughts and the weight that is upon my shoulders. Tampa is nice this time of year--we're thinking of playing golf tomorrow.

This is Eva, by the way

Do you know how difficult it is to take a photo of her when she has her clothes on?

We begin monitoring the ocean for submarines, bootleggers, and liberals

We have arrived in the Florida Keys. We are moving much faster now, because I have agreed to stop pestering Miranda and because Eva has agreed to keep her clothing on. This has eliminated a lot of the distractions that I, as the flotilla commander, have had to deal with.

I went topside the other day and spotted this activity:



We questioned them; they were indeed fishing. They were not liberal in their politics, and therefore, we did not swamp their little boat and laugh like we did off Long Island, but I cannot talk about that. We remain vigilant.

As per the need to remain armed and prepared for any engagement, I have installed one of our Czech machine guns in the parapet here on the deck of the Admiral Hassenpfeffer. There are no rounds with the weapon, of course; in the event of a problem, Peej and only Peej is allowed to load and use the machine gun. The canvas tarp that protects the weapon was my idea. Peej has long been the chief armaments expert of the organization. He knows exactly how to wield deadly weapons. I have fired machine guns and rocket launchers, of course, but rarely with any success.



It's quiet out here. Few people have the money to buy the fuel necessary for pleasure boating. You see more sail than smoke on these waters right now. I remain frosty and prepared for any encounter. I watch the water from the bridge and issue commands. The crew is restless for action, and distracted by an Eastern European mail-order bride who parades around naked and licks her lips a lot. I'm not pleased, but I'm also aware of all sea traditions.

It is Day three of the Obama time in America. The oceans are dangerous, but less so because I am on station.

Florida and the 2008 Election Observations from International Waters

I was entertaining in the banquet room last night--we set up a microphone machine, some speakers, and Peej brought out his turntables and his headphones. We have sixteen thousand LPs on board--all of them from the 1960s and 1950s, so the music itself wasn't all that modern. But we had the entire crew dancing and celebrating what is, to be quite honest with you, a dark day in American history.

For you see, Barack Obama is going to be the President of the America.

The Admiral Hassenpfeffer is roughly fourteen nautical miles off the coast of Florida. We have calm seas right now, after a rough trip through the area off of the Carolinas and Georgia. We saw some flying fish, some birds, and a lot of crap in the ocean. We are also lucky we brough extra oil on board--this is what our leaking oil looks like:



You should see it when we come to an all stop and ponder our next move.