THERE WILL BE FOG

Boys, stop murderin' with scythes and gaffs and finish your homework!

Arrrr,  now it be SPRING, Mr. Clench. Add to that dynamic the wolloping great Climate 2.0 and you'll be lashed to the mast as the planet teeters a-warmin', the planet rolls a-coolin', the planet doin' the nasty hot-cold tango 47 million tacks from port. What does this temperature mixing mean for your children in the next 1000 years? Pirate Da-da has one word for you: FOG.

Yup, it's gonna get foggier, Mr. Teach. It's also gonna get rainier -- well, except for those places that will suffer extreme drought. Needless to say, buy raingear. And a sun hat. And slow down and stop looking at yer damn phone while ye be drivin'. And, in the sad case there be no fog where you be and you desperately NEED SOME FOG, learn to make the below pirate libation and, trust Da-da on this, THERE WILL BE FOG. More fog than you'll like.

Arrr, if ye can't feel yer head, it might not be on yer shoulders.

Remember: there are things in the fog. And they will get you.

Da-da's Cranial Fog Installer

2 oz orange juice
1.5 oz fresh lime
1.5 oz orgeat or simple syrup (if you make your own, add a clove)
1.5 oz light rum
 0.5 oz dark rum (float it)
1 oz cherry brandy
1 oz gin
dash of amaretto
8 oz (1 c.) crushed ice

Put it all in a blender and blend for 5 seconds, or a cocktail shaker will do nicely. Pour unstrained and unrestrained into a tall glass. Garnish with lime and a cherry. (LIME, not lemon, ya fo'c'sle swab. Zombie pirates don't use lemon.) Oh, and leave your keys with mama.

Arr, this be a Friday kinda grog. No more than three of these, or you'll go all BLADERUNNER in yer head, matey. You'll do questionable things, arrr...

Oops, that's SMOG, not fog. And that's Beijing, not BLADERUNNER. Yikes. Waiter...?

"Da-da, Why Does Pteranodon Start With 'P' "?

OK, who left 'P' on the chair?   [P available here.]

Da-da takes great some small pride in flexing his wide-ranging, near-worthless education and capacious swiss-cheese memory before his minions children, answering most any question they ask without resorting to Google. (This makes Da-da oh so valuable in power blackout situations, in elevators, camping, etc.)

So, when Da-da's oldest, Nagurski, asked, "Da-da, why does, 'pteranodon' start with 'p'?" Da-da was ready. He was ready to give up and look online, as he could not recall what the Greek word, "ptera" meant. Then Da-da's mommy brain fog (replete with homicidal ghost pirates seeking revenge) parted for a brief moment, allowing Da-da to spot the necessary info tidbit next to that rusty pirate scabbard.

"Ptera" (really, "pteryga") is Ancient Greek for, "wing-y," with "-nodon" meaning, "giant vending machine with teeth." Da-da remembered this because, "ftera" means feathers, and lots of bird names have ftera in there someplace; "ftero-" is Greek for "winged"... but that could make said reptile a, "fteranodon," which involved so much potential flying spit that the powers that were opted for "ptera." Aren't you glad you asked?

But Da-da... why does pteranodon it start with P? Who knows, kid. Go ask an Ancient Greek. Perhaps it begins with P because it had to go to the bathroom all the time. (That's what Da-da told Bronko and Nagurski and they died laughing. It's good to be king.)

Hey! Put that sword away and go sweep out Da-da's corpus callosum!
Lousy cranial fog pirates.