But WHAT is wrong with all of you?

-Will Turner

Not that I'm particularly angry at any of you, but lack of proper iconage leaves a man really little to do these days in which he choses instead to do what he can, other than sitting around bemoaning his miserable little fate for lack of any other suitable type occupations he can use to pass the time. It comes to my attention that soon enough as it will be the rumors and the speculations, spectacular though we've made them are soon flittering off to their unfortunate however timely make their little ends. Such is a pirates fate my luvs, whatever it might be. Not to say Captain Jack Sparrow takes defeat over a movie screen, nor Cutler Beckett, Davy Jones or whatever else sees fit to glare in his direction and sure as rain he'll be here still tommorow when all's said and done. To the end of tommorow though I make one sad, rather crushing really, when all is said and done but it just had to happen luvs, owing to what we'll face. Rum week is now at its early end. Preparations for tommorow's party are commencing as we speak, said party occuring after it has been seen by all and sundry in these mighty headspaces. Whoever dies, whoever lives, are welcome all, to come on by, smugly smirk about their end or drown their sorrows as it be.

Yo ho ho mates, that day has finally come upon us.

-Captain Jack Sparrow