The hardest of all fishing tasks falls on your circle of trusted companions.
They’ve gone fishing with you enough to recognize blatant from bald-faced, but they continue to wrestle with facial tells on minor infractions, the stretching of truth, a couple inches added, or a couple phantom fish added to your evening’s tally.
The biggest of windies earns their collective scorn and the much coveted “complete bullshit” label, similar to a brief shunning but with less ceremony. Less egregious falsehoods earning a sliding scale of ire, from “horseshit” to simply outright lies and exaggeration.
Now that they’ve bottled it ($60.00 an ounce) you can simply dispense it on them like Holy Water (vest attachment extra).
How exactly were you made aware that this stuff existed, or is it best we not know?
Oh come on the best part of fishing are the stories… even the ones you know are full of it. We should give the guy with the best story a trophy …just sprinkle a little cow juice on it