Yo ho ho and a barrel of of Bacardi Limon

This story cracked me up.

Now, I'm not a big proponent of stereotypes, but come on. Pirates on speedboats using rocket-propelled grenades? Blackbeard is rolling over in Davy Jones' locker as we speak.

We need to come up with another name for these dudes. Sea assasins. Water warriors. Ocean obliterators. Something that sounds like a professional wrestler's name. Pirates, these men, are not.

I have this vision of pirates and that vision must be upheld. These doofuses hardly conducted themselves in a piraty manner. Times may change, but standards must remain.

- Ratty ship with torn sails with a Jolly Roger flag? Nope.

- Primitive weaponry, like muskets, cannons, and hurled rotten scurvy fruit? Definite nope.

- Captain of said ratty ship has at least one peg leg, an eye patch, and a parrot companion. Well, the story didn't specify, but I would fathom this one is a big nope as well.

This would be like the headhunters on Gilligan's Island chasing the Professor and Mary Ann with bazookas and napalm. "Lovey, be careful...that native appears to be commandeering a Stealth bomber in our general direction."

This is why I hate the media. These guys aren't pirates! They're hooligans on jet skis. Let's call a spade a spade, matey.

50 men on a dead man's chest indeed. Humph.