Fuck off, Lurcio! How're those heads looking? Past show time, I notice. Quartermaster! Have this wretch lashed to the gratings and - well - lashed!!And more to the point... you work at sea as well and...We don't want you bloody 'aproposing' with wild abandon in the middle of a north sea windmill farm now do we?
Curb your usage...you've overdone it...kicked the tits well out of it.
Search function condemns you...a hanging matter if I had my way.
Oh, and have another turn kissing the gunners daughter for your piss-poor use of the quote function before you limp back down to lurk in the capstan flat, urchin.