As many of you may have noticed, today happens to be a Friday. As many of you may have also noticed, today happens to be the 13th as well. While the more scientifically minded amongst you know that any negative correlation between these two occurrences are purely an unfortunate coincidence, I would just like to remind the rest of you that silly superstions (albeit, a time honored seafaring tradition) will not be tolerated.

Yes, I do realize that for unknown reasons all the bathroom stalls have mysteriously detached from the bulkhead and are now floating freely. Yes, I do realize that there has been an outbreak of black kitten-spiders on level 23. Yes, I do know the ship is spontaneously covered in flesh-eating jellies who have started emerging out of the moon pool. Indeed, I am aware that a few of you have reported unexpected tentacular growths. Also, I have heard that the mess hall has split off into thirteen almost identical dimensions.

I assure you, all of these incidents are 100% (+- an uncertainty factor of 97.369%) unrelated, or at least unrelated to this particular day.  No amount of lucky unicorn shoes or ferret’s feet or cultist luck rituals or four leafed sentient clovers will change this fact.

Please cease and desist your sad devotion to those ancient supersitions. We need all hands and full attentions to help with the clean up.

That is all.

Sincerely,

-Captain Tortuga

Chickens! Don’t look at me like that. You knew it was inevitable that eventually there would be a chicken. There’s some rule about that, I think.

As many of you are aware, it is indeed “Talk Like A Pirate” Day. Seeing as the S.S. Isopod employees a fair selection of the piratical sorts, the excess pirate-themed talk is a bit… redundant. Folks seem to think this means they need to add extra “arrrrs” to their already “arrrr” saturated speech. Please note, if you are already a pirate, in most cases, you already talk like one. There is no need to put in the extra effort.

As for the scientists, many of whom are not and have never been of the pirate persuasion, hearing you “talk” like a pirate is, well, it’s just sad. Just… just stop it. The concept is obviously beyond your grasp.

For example, I overheard  the following conversation in the hall just moments ago.

Random Scientist 1: “Arr there, my fellow researrrrrrcher. How be ye?”

Random Scientist 2: “I arr be arr verrrrarrrrghy well arr. Thank thee arr for yarr askarrging.”

Random Scientist 1: “What?”

Random Scientist 2: “I said, I be aaaarrrrrrrgggggood.”

Random Scientist 1: “Ah! Ah ha! Ha! I see! Brilliant! Ahem… I mean, that be great, har har! Yo-ho-ho!  Avast! Have ye seen tharrrrrrr yonder today’s what crawled out o’ t’ bung hole special?”

Random Scientist 2: “Arrrg! Nay, arrrr! Arrrrr! What be thar speciarrrrrrrrl o’ t’galley? Arrr?”

Random Scientist 1: “I hearrrrr ’tis t’grog o’Davy Jones, ’tis. Y’arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!”

At which point I had to shut my door and scoop out my ears with a rusty spoon. I’m sorry I had to subject you to that example, but now you know, and knowing is half the battle. The other half the battle is to send any person abusing their “Talk Like a Pirate” Day privileges to the Pain Sauna. Consider this your warning.

Which reminds me, the cook would like to announce that he ordered about 20 barrels of bona fide grog for the crew this evening. Also, the medic would like to remind everyone that drinking the grog is mandatory on account of the recent epidemic of Euclidean space scurvy going around the ship.

That is all.

Sincerely,

- Captain Torguga

I have some good news and some bad news.

The good news is that the underwater “UFO” is neither unidentified nor flying although it is an object. So those of you worried about an intergalactic incident being started because some drunken extraterristial took Uncle Blipblop’s sports spaceship out for a joy ride and carelessly crashed it into our ocean, can rest easy. The bad news is that it’s actually the giant anti-grav turbo super fun-time trampoline that we had ordered (as a surprise, I might add) from the Underground Questionable Science Emporium. From what I hear, apparently even they get boarded sometimes (something about the Swedish coast guard and tactile pickled herrings), and they were forced to eject their entire shipment.

Sorry.

In other news, there will be extra cake for dessert tonight. So, there is that.

Sincerely,

- Captain Tortuga

I realize there is a trend revitalizing the popularity of the quaint little stringed instrument known as the ukulele. Indeed, I have been known to enjoy the dulcet tones produced by the uke from time to time. I also realize that a ship would not be a proper ship without at least one such instrument in residence. It’s traditional. I get that. In addition, I understand that the Isopod has not escaped the recent craze.

However, I do not feel that is appropriate that every single member of this crew (including the robots and all experiments with two hands and opposable thumbs) have picked up such an instrument for their very own. Had I known that I would not have been able to get a good night’s rest as a result of a few hundred ukulele’s being indiscriminately struck and accosted, I would have instituted a quota long ago. Alas, hindsight being what it is, and the inability of the crew to actually play a ukulele with any iota of talent or melody at any time of the day or night, I am now forced to enact a ban on all uke shaped devices. This ban is active immediately and until such time which I can listen to ukulele music again without punching someone in the face.

If you are in possession of a ukulele, please bring it down to incinerator 12 for mandatory emergency neutralization, ASAP.

Thank you, and good day.

Sincerely,

- Captain Tortuga

So, I went to the Stumptown Comics Festival in Portland, Oregon today. I have to say, there was an astonishing lack of mustaches. Get with the program, Portland. For shame. On the other hand there was an overabundance of pirates and the Mayor was dressed as the superhero SAMDROID, so I suppose I can overlook the mustache issue this time.

I’m not going to even get into the physics of having a nice cup of tea underwater. It would just blow your mind. And a blown mind is just not a good thing. Very messy. Really, I’m doing you a service, I am. You should thank me. I just saved you from a major head injury.

Some of you may have noticed the disconcerting hue that the ship seems to have acquired this morning. If not, you’re probably blessed with color blindness or unconsciousness. Congratulations. For the rest of us that are forced to endure the eye stabbing fresh bile color of the ship, my condolences.

I’m afraid the rumors you have heard are true; the ship has indeed contracted some sort of alien metal milady as a result of Dr. Kornblat’s latest interstellar experiments. I’m also afraid the other rumor you have heard is true as well; prolonged exposure to this particular shade of green may cause seizures and/or death. It’s recommended that you find some form of eye protection while the scientists work on treating the ship. Unfortunately, Dr. Kornblat didn’t survive the initial infection, so it may be some time until we are able to sort out the problem. Therefore, walking around with one’s eyes closed probably won’t be the best long term solution.

The good news is that it’s Saint Patrick’s day and the current decor seems somewhat fitting. So there is that.

UPDATE: If for some reason you get the urge to lick any of the ship’s infected green metal, I would caution against such actions. Apparently contact with human saliva causes an interesting (and completely illogical) chemical reaction, resulting in the human saliva owner to merge into the ship’s hull. The resulting mess is, well, undesirable.

Sincerely,
- Captain Torguga

I know what you’re thinking. Aren’t the scientists sort of a reclusive anti-social bunch? They don’t seem like the type to be into partying. Perhaps that’s the case at whatever boring run-of-the-mill research laboratory you used to work at, but the Isopod scientists are a special brew of special.

Our annual Mardi Gras celebration will take place in the mess hall tonight starting at 18:00 and lasting until the tesla coil powered zydeco machine holds together. This year’s theme is  “Cogs and Sprockets” as our shipment of the traditional beads didn’t arrive in time. Please be careful when throwing at each other. A sprocket induced eye injury is no laughing matter.

Also, please note that the ship’s medic will be on hand for any medical emergencies including, but not limited to, emergency short term memory erasing for terminal cases of “things that cannot be unseen”. If this year’s celebrations are anything like previous years, that service is sure to be popular.

That is all.

Sincerely,

- Captain Tortuga

If you have visited the site recently (instead of just viewing it though the newfangled RSS technologies) you may have noticed we have some new decorations. Not only do we finally have a new logo graphic, but we also have spruced up the place with some dashing wallpaper. Indeed, that is a beautiful artistic depiction of our very own Cuddles the giant squid, all stylistic for your viewing pleasure.

But wait! There’s more!

The hard working folks aboard the S.S. Isopod have converted said wallpaper, using the latest scientific advances, into a size appropriate for decorating your iPhone (or any mobile phone for that matter). They even created several brilliant colors for your choosing or mood.

To acquire such goodies, please make your way to our official Goodies page.

Thank you and good day,

- Captain Tortuga