Yo Ho Ho and a Volatile Rum!

Original:  26 February 2007

Posted:  03 November 2007

Last Update:  05 November 2007

 

Tanaris.  Lost Rigger Cove.  Home to those lovable Southsea Pirates.  Whose lovable heads I'm currently bashing.

"Why?" you may rightly ask.  What could possibly bring a 64-Druid to a 40-50 area in the ass-end of Kalimdor?

Volatile Rum, that's what!  Great stuff with many uses.  Obviously you can drink it.  Just taste that sunshine-palm-tree-white-sand-beach adventure as the stuff burns its way down your throat, into your gut and shoots warm rays throughout your body -- and boils back up because you drank it too fast, ya dang lightweight!

It's also an ingredient in "Goblin Rocket Fuel", which you need to power various Goblin contraptions, like the "Ectoplasmic Distiller".  This baby actually collects ectoplasm from ghosts and well, distils it.  (Why do I need it?  Way too long a story).  I've no idea how it works, but it makes a helluva racket and sucks up fuel, so you need lots of Volatile Rum to make the fuel to keep it juiced.  Tyroll helped me with it in Silithus once.  His assessment:  "That thing makes a helluva racket!"

And Volatile Rum goes great with Ice Cream, where it becomes "Volatile Rum Ice Cream" -- always a hit with the ladies.

But probably the single most effective use of Volatile Rum is:  mollifying Da Mish.  Here's the Basic Scenario:

DA MISH:  "How many damn times I gotta' tell ya', ya' stupid, donkey-eared, crap-for-brains, tree-huggin' idiot? Now listen this time!  Inna' Orc ambush, I get the first 27 of 'em!  You do nothin' -- unless there's a 28th one, and then you kin whack 'im once with that silly sticka' yers -- and then ya back off and let me deal with it!  Ya' got that now?  Gah!  Of all the ass-hatted, dim-witted, long-eared, moronic, animal-lovin', bark-eatin' fools of a druid, I gotta' be grouped with the absolute dumbest, dimmest, no-brainiest, tree-schmooziest --"

THE DRUID:  "Say, Mish ... care for a Volatile Rum?"

MISH:  "Livius!  My savior!  I luvs ya, I does!!"

Yeah.  So, anyway -- I'm in Lost Rigger Cove, whacking Southsea Pirates, farming the rum, yo ho ho ... and watching the ladies.

That's right.  The Ladies.  But not just any "ladies."  These are Southsea Pirate ladies.

And that's brings us to the "problem".  Here, have a look:

 

 

Now tell me:  what the hell is wrong with these pictures?!

Let's first look at what's right:

Not bad!  Especially for a girl I just met.  Only one little problem:  she's trying to kill me!

So I tried to "be nice" and "negotiate."  Here's the result:

 

All I want is some Volatile Rum to make Goblin Rocket Fuel for my Ectoplasmic Distiller, mollify da Mish and give the ladies some tasty ice cream -- and I'm set upon by the Babe-with-Cutlass Squad!

So I've got a "woman problem".  (Again).  One that I cannot solve on my own.  No worries -- I see that the expert is around.  I reach out on the Guild Channel and...

 

DRUID:  Tyroll!  Help me!  I'm having a girl problem.

TYROLL:  You're having "a girl problem"?  I've got seven of them and that's only "right now"!

DRUID:  Oh.  Sorry, then.

TYROLL:  Heh, what's to be "sorry" about?  So what's up?

DRUID:  Well, it's these Southsea Pirate Ladies...

TYROLL:  Oh, yeah, them.  They hit on me all the time!

DRUID:  Really?

TYROLL:  Sure!  They can't stay away from me.

DRUID:  No kidding!  Well ... how can I make it stop?

TYROLL:  <blink> You want it to stop?!

 

My conversations with Tyroll always seem to end like that.

 

Because, yes, I do want it to stop!  But not why you think.  See, I have no problem bashing things that I can obviously identify as "enemy".  But I find it just a bit difficult to whack someone I'm more inclined to have sex with.

How many of you boys just went "Hah!  Liv can't keep Wally under control, bwahaha!"  And more importantly, how many of you ladies just screamed, "Pig!  And I thought at least you were such a noble guy, Liv!"

Well ... shut up.  All of you.  Just shut up, please.

Because you are no different, Boys.  And you Ladies don't understand the male mind.

Let me make something clear to you, Girls -- men always, at some point, want to have sex with you.  Notice I said "want" and "at some point".  It doesn't mean we always do or even that we always try.  It simply means that there is a deep-seated, immovable part of the male subconscious that is about sex.  Not even the holiest, chaste, noble and upright Paladin is immune.  All males, regardless of profession, across all races, want to have sex with any compatible and attractive female whose path they cross -- even if it's merely a subconscious, split-second thought.  It's just the way nature made us.  If not for this urge, the species would eventually die out.

And any man who tells you otherwise is either a liar or ... is not "male".

I'm a male, so it applies to me.  I'm not "proud" of it -- it's just the way my brain is cabled.  It's a very deep instinct.  Now, if you're still yelling "Pig!" at me and want to slap me, consider the following:  with how many of you ladies have I actually followed through?  i.e., we've done it?

<waits>

Uh huh.  Now, with how many of you have I actually tried to get it done?  This means I've acted or spoken to you in a way where my goal was to get you in the sack.  I'm not talking about "basic compliments", Ladies -- saying "you look nice tonight" (and variations thereof) could be a prelude to seduction, but is far more likely just me being "gentlemanly".  So stay focused here, would you?

So -- with how many of you have I "tried"?  Come forward!  Form an orderly line right here, please.

<waits>

Yep.  Get the point, Dears?  You see, Ladies -- there's a world of difference between "a lower part of my brain wanting sex with you" and "a higher part of my brain ensuring I'm a gentleman."  Big difference -- big -- huge.

And you girls are not always innocent, mind you. I recall a Brandmoot not too long ago where, for some weird reason, several of the ladies were dressed in brassiere, panties and cloak -- and that's all.  And I didn't realize it because one of them -- I'll call her "Baroness" -- had her back to me as I came into the Pig & Whistle.  Then she turned around to greet me and ... well, can you just imagine my ... surprise?  I swear, that is the hardest I have ever concentrated on a girl's eyes.

You Ladies are weird sometimes.  But I like you!  Can't help it, <sigh>.

So that brings us back to those Babes With Cutlasses.  And open blouses.  And hefty bosoms.  I mean, really now -- you never see any B-cups amongst the Southsea Pirates, do you?  Double-D or nothing there.  I can just imagine a B-Cup applying ... "Well, Girl, you're great with a sword, you hold your liquor and you can say 'har!' in a tough, yet still feminine way, but ... well, if you want in, I'll have to ask you to step over here and see our Special Mage -- he'll polymorph your fun bags right up to our standards.  Next!"

Yeah.  They may allow ladies in, but it's still obviously a man's world.

Rum, anyone?