Now this was not going to be an easy task, fellow beardsmen. Firstly there be the whole "mornin'" part. Ye see, yer Cap'n gets up most every day at the crack of noon. So this whole "ear-ly in the mornin'" thing was a difficult obstacle. After an intense debate amongst the crew, I decided that the best course of action would simply be to stay up until the morning, rather than trying to actually wake up early (which goes against the Cap'n's religion -- Pastafarian.)
The second tricky bit was figuring out how to stay awake and not pass out in a drunken stupor too early. It was decided that I would not start drinking until daybreak. In that way, we could study the effects of an actual drunken sailor early in the morn'.
The momentous day arrived, and thus at 6:22 AM Pacific time, after a long night of abstinence staunched by ample Texas Hold 'Em with the crew, the consumption of alcohol commenced. For this experiment, in order to study the effects of the inebriants with efficacy, I rationalized that the hooch should be applied directly to the stomach, without any sort of "mixers" or "ice" to possibly dilute the results.
Now of course there be the beard -- as many of us know, a hearty beard can note only restore manliness by up to 46%, but it also acts as something of a "booze sponge," providing extra reserve space for mighty consumption of rum. Odd, this, but a proven scientific fact*. Thus I knew indeed, ye cutthroats and scoundrels, that I had to compensate for the increased manliness factor provided by me beard, augmented with Blackbeard for Men instant, brush-on beard color. That meant that instead of the usual 20-30 shots it may take an average, beard-deprived sailor to get sauced, I had to drink 46% more rum to achieve the same blood-alcohol content.
Down the hatch, lads!
Well, sorry to say, lads, the whole experiment was a bit anticlimactic. A blazingly sunny day it was, and before long yer Cap'n's giddy gaeity and spontaneous, spasmodic Macarena moves gave way to one bruiser of a skull ache. Like Rottweiler O'Garigle's rusty ol' hook bangin' around inside me cranium, it did. Aaaaargh.
And thus the answer was learnt: what do ye do with a drunken sailor earlye in the mornin'? Why, ye give him three Advil and have him go take a nice lie-down in the dark.... 'til he's sober, ear-lye in the mornin'.
So remember, ye scurvy lot: wield the power of yer beard responsibly. Remember, there be less fortunate pirates out there who do not have a rogueishly handsome mustache and beard, and thus have no game and probably can't hold their liquor. Aye, they are to be pitied, yes, but not mocked, for they are but sad fools and we must be humble, kind, and considerate of those who are less endowed. And that includes lending a pirate yer tube of Blackbeard for Men if ye know someone in need!
May yer mast and yer drink always be stiff.
Cap'n Jim
Disclaimer: we here at Blackbeard for Men do not condone alcohol use and do not mean to glamorize the drunken pirate lifestyle. It is very, very BAD and can lead to torrid, fleeting affairs with handsome ship's captains and a life of adventure and joy, I mean sorrow and tragedy. Ye have been warned.
*Bald-faced lie, actually.
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