Now look at me.
Now look at your man.
Now back to me. Sadly, he is not me. But, if he were a half-breed pirate, took a shower in rose petals, sunshine and saltwater, dabbed a little burnt gunpowder behind his ears, he would still smell like envy of me.
They call me Jericho, because when i call, the ladies' walls come down.
What do i love most about being a pirate? Well, the freedom, cannons and suave fashions are all very nice, but i'd have to say, i do it for the booty.