Ben loves this day. When we were picking out a wedding date, he actually suggested we get married Sept 19, but I vetoed it on the grounds that he might suddenly whip out something like, "Aye matey! I do take this lusty wench in scurvy and in health..."
So in honor of my geeky pirate, here are a few other things I've learned from living with a nerdy husband:
All gaming achievements are to be lauded. Mock his in-game accomplishments, and you're mocking him. Even when the accomplishment is the shooting down of a rival spaceship and you're given an agonizingly detailed fifteen minute description of the events leading up to the hit.
I'm sure Ben will see this and comment to me that it's a screenshot from an old version of Eve. Yes, yes it is. It's also the only one I could find with an explosion in it. Go figure.
All gaming failures are to be ignored. When listening to the saga of how he took down the rival spaceship, don't bring up the fact that he usually gets his ass handed to him on a platter. Instead, dole out the praise and present a sympathetic face. He'll flourish like a house plant. (Well, not MY house plants, since I think my treatment of them borders on abuse. But someone's, I'm sure.) As a side note, when you're informed of the demise of a spaceship (or mage/warrior/whatever), the appropriate response is not to roll your eyes and walk away, but to observe a moment of respectful silence. If you know how to play the taps, that's a nice touch as well.
You can be clothed entirely in apparel from thinkgeek.com. Shirts, ties, hoodies, hats, hell - even a
They're low maintenance. Pizza, coke, booze of their choice and a good internet connection, and they're set for the next five hours. Or three days, depending on the amount of raids they have set up with their online buddies. But obviously you'll need more pizza.
Yes, that is Darth Vader made of olives.
Everything on this craigslist post is true. Yes everything. Marrying Ben was the best decision I ever made. Happy Talk Like a Pirate Day, honey.