Girls prefer some well coifed, clean-smelling fellow to sweep them off their feet. Guys would prefer romance include some stunning female who’s statuesque, fulsome, and completely chaste, unless it’s them she’s disrobing … as that’s entirely proper.
Nine web sites and nine supersaturated pictures of the dots on a trout’s tail, and I wonder how the trout became the measure of beauty. It’s not surprising that we’d gravitate to the wagging end of fish, given that most of our youth was spent chasing tail and boasting of same, yet it’s almost as if our rarified notion of selectivity chastity that’s defining the beauty of gamefish, not the qualities inherent to each species.
Underlying the olive and maroon and prominent black dots may be, “my fish is chaste, and gave it up just for me” – and it’s the learned gentlemanly qualities that cause us to forget how many, exactly where, and how big, things we shared in our youth … until we heard our sister mentioned and found out how unflattering it really was…
Someday I’ll find the right gal and settle, but until then I prefer the company of streetwalkers. Floosies, harlots all – that hide in ambush until darting out to intercept a likely customer.
That’s right, I pay for my tail.
The price was a triple batch of Oatmeal Raisin cookies to the landowner’s spouse, whose confessed weakness for same may get me an invite back.
Bluegill are the pure harlot. You don’t have to kiss them – you don’t have to share your burger, all they require is your time and inclination – and a bit of lukewarm shade.
… and they’ve got black dots too, and if they were any bigger we’d be seeing them in our nightmares.
Tags: Bluegill, Oatmeal Raisin cookies, Trout, trout tail, fascination with tail, fish porn, fly fishing, panfish
Need a close up shot of that “fly”.
It’s one of my standard patterns for bass and panfish. “Oil slick” glass beads with a tuft of brown marabou (or olive) for the tail. The tail tie in area holds the beads in place on the shank.
Sinks like a rock.
I took a 70 year old lady out yesterday to fly fish for her first time. She caught a bluegill a little smaller than yours.
She had a really good time (I hope).
and I thought I was the only whore in the group…I have two valley ranches rich with private pounds and both of the landowners wive’s hold the keyes to the gates until I spring for my Barbque sauce…recipe dates back till 1873 in Odessa,Texas.
wanna trade Cookies for Sauce?
Hey, I’m the wannabe flyfisherfool in the picture and the one who turned KB onto this phat place.
If anyone wants to get sauced, it’s me!
Why is it that Singlebarbed can somehow make fishing for bluegills seem… skanky?
Because you told me that “sex sells” … Marketing 101.
…and I’ll trade the cookie recipe for BBQ sauce – straight up.
forget marketing 101…sex is damn exciting to talk about, watch and listen to, especially if you have some of my barbequed mountain oysters and your cookies to munch on.
sick bastards we are.
check your email.
Aaaahhhh bluegills, my favorite fish to catch.
Dude, right there with you on the closeup of the fish tail… course, just about as bad is the “obligatory” equating fishing and sex, or fish and females, or any combination, derivation, or evolution thereof. It’s just weird, man.