This day in the month O' August, I posted to this page a counter, to count ye. It's been rising like the tide the whole month. I've been anticipatin' the counter reachin the right good sum of a thousand, and askin' me-self whether it'd be today, so I could call out: "I netted a good round thousand in one month!"
Arrrgh. By naptime today, I had only Nine Hundred Nine-and-Fifty. And I was sore in need of that nap, too.
As one scurvy old seadog once spoke:
Before an hour's out, I'll stove in your old block house like a rum puncheon. Laugh, by thunder, laugh! Before an hour's out, ye'll laugh upon the other side. Them that die'll be the lucky ones.