Arrr, in Carter’s port o’ call, we be cryin’ and laughin’ like scallywags at a jolly wake!
2024-12-30
Arrr, Plains, Ga., be preparin' fer the grim reaper’s visit, what with the old captain’s troubles an' near two years in Davy Jones' hospice! But blow me down, his keel finally struck the seabed at a ripe old age o' 100, and it feels as true as a mermaid's tale!
Ahoy there, ye landlubbers! Gather 'round as I spin ye a yarn from the fair shores of Plains, Georgia! The folk there be a-chattin’, preparin’ their hearts for the sad tidin’s of their old captain’s final voyage. Aye, the former president, bless his soul, had been battlin’ the grim reaper for nearly two long years, arguin’ with death while anchored in the harbor of hospice care.But lo and behold! The fateful day arrived, and at the ripe old age of 100, he set sail for the great beyond! Yet, the good folk of Plains be scratchin' their heads and mutterin’, “This can’t be true!” They be thinkin' it a mere mirage or a trick played by the seas of time. How can it be, that their beloved captain, with a heart more stout than a ship’s hull, has slipped into that eternal horizon?
Such is the nature of life and death, I tell ye. One moment ye be celebratin’ a hundred years of tales, and the next, ye be walkin’ the plank into the great unknown! So raise yer mugs, me hearties! Let us toast to the cap’n, who sailed the stormy seas of life and left behind a legacy as vast as the ocean itself!