Category Archives: fly fishing humor

You can all rest easy because I lack offspring

fisherman_costume Questionable sense of humor, suspect hygiene, butchery of English – all the important traits end with my passing.

Sure, I have regrets. Not being able to slap a “My kid is doing 5 to Life at San Quentin” placard on my bumper is one, but I’ll get over it.

It’s my firm conviction that only a childless human can teach the truly valuable lessons in life, the rest of you are emotionally tied to the little snot, and your judgment is impaired.

… and with less than two weeks before the “Second Greatest Holiday” ever, there’s a lot of parents wrestling with the “too much sugar” lecture … the “how do I repossess all the candy” tearful scene, and how to sneak all the Snicker bars out of that awesome loot – without the kid knowing…

Think costume choice.

“The Little Fisherman” above solves all parenting woes; from the apple-imbedded-razorblade, to the multi-day sugar-induced-tantrum.

Dad will know all the right answers automatically:

“Well, Angel-kins, we have to release the Snickers as the last two blocks were ‘Catch & Release’, and they’re protected. Hand them to me quickly, I’ll put them in the toilet so they can spawn (wink) …”

“No, Sweetums, we don’t keep the stepped-on candy, those are ‘invasive sweets’ that if we bring home will infest Ma’s carpet …”

“I don’t know where the big bag of candy went, Cupcake. Unless you beat it six or seven times with a bat – it must’ve swam off … ”

“No, Precious, the lights are off at Mr. Johnson’s house because he doesn’t fish.”

“You have to potty? Right here on the lawn is fine, you’re a ‘little fisherman’ and like big fishermen, you get to do that anywhere.”

For those parents struggling with older offspring the lessons are just as easy:

“Hey Meathead, the Johnson’s haven’t returned any of the tools they borrowed, how about applying a little “spawning” action on the way by? Take a dozen eggs, and “milt” his Rhododendrons with this 12 pack of Charmin Ultra Soft ..”

“Hey Penitentiary Face, fishing hours are from dusk till someone tells you to put “10 fingers on the fender.” That’s the warden – and if he takes you back to headquarters don’t call me or your mother, just find a seat against a wall…”

It’s tough having all the good ideas, but as most of you are beginners and have sworn off any further attempts (based on your current progeny), I figured you’d welcome assistance.

Tags: Halloween, second greatest holiday, fisherman costume, parental lessons, Snickers, Catch & Release, invasive candy, spawning

Art or Advertisement

Art or Advertisement Would you date a gal with a chronic drooping backcast?

The Internet holds countless mysteries, and I’ve been scratching my chin on this flavor for some time. Is it art, self expression, Photoshop, or occupational advertisement?

I’d be scared to ask …

Those of you searching for the perfect outdoorswoman can rest assured that mosquitoes won’t be an issue.

… and if PETA climbs all over us for hooking “sea-kittens” – would the “human fly box” stifle their outrage?

Tags: Photoshop, drooping backcast, Mysteries of the Internet, PETA, human fly box

Angling for a little Swine Flu

You can rest easy knowing ALL the important freshwater gamefish will not be contracting Swine Flu.

Having endured mandatory training due to employment with a “first responder” organization,  it’s certain that while humanity may expire in a paroxysm of Phlegm; “Porkulosis”, “Bacon Lung”, or “Pigluenza” will leave freshwater fish untouched.

Yum Yum

The details of fisheries science are a mystery to me, but while listening to the health professionals insist we wash our hands hourly, and how the communal pink donut box is “… a virtual Petrie dish of exotic toxins” – I couldn’t help wonder whether us fishermen were especially at risk.

Really big fish are oft-called “Pigs” or “Porkers” and us fly fishermen lack the good sense to avoid a forcible fish exhale or sputum when the big SOB is gripped too tightly. Waders only protect us from the chest down and we could be unwittingly made “pollination vectors” as legions of big fish wheeze their way to the surface bent on payback.

Not to worry.

I considered prostrating my morals by cornering the market on 100% impermeable facemasks, getting them silk screened with Light Cahill’s and Royal Coachmen, but the thought of making freaking goddamn millions at the expense of the Brotherhood was distasteful …

In a study published September 28th ahead of print in the peer-reviewed journal Environmental Health Perspectives, researchers measured oseltamivir carboxylate (OC), the active metabolite of the popular anti-influenza drug Tamiflu (oseltamivir phosphate), in samples of sewage discharge and river water

… so if the long lines for the H1N1 become burdensome you could wait a week and gargle river water. Dosages vary based on population size, so bring at least two straws. The “prime lie” will be at the outflow nozzle and bathing in it might provide additional surface resistance.

“An antiviral drug has never been widely used before, so we need to determine what might happen. During a flu pandemic, millions of people will all take Tamiflu at the same time. Over just 8 or 9 weeks, massive amounts of the drug will be expelled in sewage and find its way into the rivers. It could have huge effects on the fish and other wildlife.”

… maybe it’ll restore all that lost testosterone?

Tags: H1N1, swine flu, the other white flu, tamiflu, sewage treatment, fly fishing humor, Light Cahill, Royal Coachman, oseltamivir carboxylate

Will the Wooldom conquer our fear of Winter Steelhead?

I get envious when I see a grinning angler holding a yard or more of dripping chrome. I realize he’s still under the influence of all that adrenaline – which makes the grin appear natural…

It isn’t. The poor SOB spent half a day in frozen slush with icy rain trickling down his forearm with each backstroke, his buddies are huddled next to the fire on the sandbar wishing he’d quit so they can get indoors and count their fingers …

The last time I caught a steelhead I had neoprene and It's just a thoughteveryone else didn’t. As they shuffled out of the water to the fire I’d move closer to the best lie. For my suffering I was rewarded with a bonafide hookup and landed a 10 lb buck.

I couldn’t feel my feet as I turned toward the bank and shuffled towards dry land, ignoring all them fellows headed the opposite direction suddenly aware that fish existed in that god forsaken freezer.

On dry land it was worse. I numb-foot it behind a bush and fumble for my better half … to find it had the good sense to hide inside the body cavity…

Gave me a good scare.

I realized Steelhead fishermen were a breed apart, and talk soft when among them. I figure to repay the favor, fellows – you may want to try a Wooldom.

Tags: steelhead, icy river, frozen testes, wooldom,

Fishouflage, so your kid can wear it to his Prom

Talk about a “bait and switch” – I was all geared up to insist we all buy it so that our corpse was indistinguishable from the bottom, guaranteeing our watery resting place was undisturbed.

Or, the astounding scientific evidence that we’d be invisible to fish were we to slip it over waders…

Instead, I’ve stumbled on an angling fashion plate – only the hardcore professional angler “wears their passion on our sleeve.”

As I shamefacedly gazed down at my sleeve, it appears my passion is Hamburger … with mustard …

“The angling community never had a universally acceptable image, and now we do.”

Anglers have a universally robust image; hard drinking, womanizing timewasters, ignoring societal taboos and overgrown lawns with equal vigor. Our sermons are delivered from the couch, our whereabouts largely unknown, and our conquests legion.

We’ve had poets, ball players, singers, writers and a half dozen Presidents as our spokespeople. While we’re searching for the next great Angling Contemporary to rally behind and crystallize our issues, running around in foul smelling camouflage will just make us an Al Qaeda splinter cell.

Fishouflage, umm – I’ll wait.

Tags: fishouflage, angling fashion, wear passion on our sleeve, timewaster, Al Qaeda, societal taboo, fly fishing humor

A Triploid World Record Rainbow is so last week

Get some today I’m in that tiny minority of fishermen that see the Big Picture and won’t lose any sleep over whether a trout fed on deep fried Snicker bars is a true world record or not.

I attribute my pragmatic view to the slow death of the quality water – and the inexorable spread of taint. Too many humans in too small an area begats a slow corruption of water, soil, and air.

You recognize the issue all too well and while you’d rather it wasn’t on our doorstep, you’ve witnessed a lot of your former haunts become a shell of what once was…

Humans have to eat and water is precious. If you’re of the school that only a pure strain rainbow is deserved “World Record” status, then it’s likely you still leave cake and milk on the hearth for Old Saint Nick.

Considering that steaks will probably come from an amorphous blob of cattle-like substance – grown in vitro so we can reduce bovine-sourced Methane, and fish will suffer some similar fate; a scaly mass – fed brightly colored proteins via a latticework of tubes, surrounded by white-coated freshman wondering which gene to add next. Science doesn’t care for your silly little pastime – they’re worried about the important stuff ..

.. like feeding all of us snobs for the next couple of decades.

The beauty of science is all the permutations we’ll see before that sodden mass is ready for filleting, and some of them will be unsuitable table fare, they’ll be adding a bit of this to a dab of that and something’s bound to escape.

If it doesn’t eat all of us or befoul what little planet is left, it might prove to be a robust gamefish – despite having to wear a shark suit when you fish for it, as wading in anything less means you’re bait (fishing).

In the meantime, lighten up a little. What we know is going the way of the Model A Ford, and what we don’t know may make you scratch your chin …

… like the Superfish I’m always giggling about. It might be here … now.

“The duo has been feeding rainbow trout a diet of 5 percent Creatine, the naturally occurring amino acid (contrary to some, Creatine isn’t a steroid or a growth hormone, Hayward says) that former Major League Baseball slugger Mark McGuire said he used as he chased baseball’s single-season home-run record in 1998.

The results show that some of the rainbows are responding to the Creatine diet like humans who regularly take the popular yet controversial body building supplement and follow a consistent weightlifting program.

They’re getting stronger ..”

Stuff some fatty triploid with Creatine and we’ll need Double Taper 9 weights for dry flies … and if 5% is good, 75% would be sublime.

Your kid will be munching on a fish burger, that’s still wriggling despite being deep fried, wondering how you endured those “quaint” natural fish – while he’s knotting on another Titanium treble-equipped parachute.

But that has not prevented the researchers from leaping to an economic conclusion. ”Fishermen probably would pay a premium for a chance of catching fish that fought longer and harder,” one of them said.

… and Mr. Trout Snob, your lofty ethics will fall by the wayside when a membership to Brawny Creek opens. You’ll be so busy reaching for your checkbook to notice you’ve drooled on your cravat.

45 pound Rainbow the new World’s Record? That is so last week…

Tags: Creatine fed rainbow trout, performance enhancing drugs, Mark McGwire, super trout, steroid trout, good old days, world record rainbow trout, triploid, fish burger

They don’t reproduce as well because of the time spent in front of the mirror

Moderne Bass The US Geological Survey released a study this week suggesting bass are especially prone to gender-bending and are doing so with great gusto.

… makes me wonder whether the professional BASS circuit will be stood on its collective ear when metrosexual bass cease feeding on crankbaits as the ensuing chase makes them all sweaty …

In the Mississippi River, near Lake City Minnesota, 73 percent of the smallmouth bass had characteristics of both sexes.

“Gender bending” humans exhibit traits ranging from undetectable to flagrant, and while diet appears largely unaffected – presentation and table manners most certainly are..

Will that mean the days of the vicious slashing take of an aggressive largemouth are over? Replaced with a “window shopping” study of our flies and a possible demure inhalation?

The Southeast, especially the Pee Dee River Basin in North and South Carolina, had the highest rates of feminization. In Bucksport, S.C., 10 of 11 largemouth bass examined were intersex. In parts of the Mississippi River in Minnesota and the Yampa River in Colorado, 70 percent of the smallmouth bass had female signs.

Any fellow witnessing two gals fighting knows that feminization of fish should improve the ensuing tussle. With the predominance of hair-pulling we’ll have to change flies more often, but the increase in ferocity should make that a wash.

While diet may be unaffected, successful imitation may require emphasis on matching the color of the nest, proper accessorizing of flies, and inclusion of trademark labels; Dolce & Gabanna, DKNY, and their ilk.

The rubber-worm manufacturers will have to retool if mauve becomes the new Purple.

Tags:feminization of fish, she-male, estrogen, largemouth bass, gender bending fish, wastewater pollution, fly fishing humor, DKNY,

Some fellow is out there fishing for me

Fake roadkill prank It was a bad idea to mention road kill as “a virtually untapped source of quality fly tying materials”. It’s risky enough pulling a barely controllable broadslide in traffic – what with the risk to life and limb coupled with all the cell phone calls I interrupt …

Now some sick SOB is gunning for me. It wouldn’t be so bad if he had better taste in synthetics.

Monkey is enough to make me perk up as I whizz by – but a couple of brightly colored stiffy parrots would induce a panic stop.

Tags: Cockeyed.com, fake road kill, fly tying materials, panic stop

 

You owe huge

The Wader Cooler, only raises your voice by a couple octaves

Sure I’m blushing, I keep scratching chin trying to figure whether it’s an icy male “enhancement”  or whether I can mount it on the vest and pipe the exhaust down a leg.

It’s new life for the neoprene waders we’ve got stashed in the closet; what with their superior floatation, warmth in Winter, and doesn’t ship water inboard when you take a header. We were in better shape prior to “breathable” as we had to fight both current and Rubberband effect.

Half of us would toss the three-ply and return to Neoprene if we could cool the “swamp” a bit. I’d grip my personal swamp cooler between hammy cheeks and enunciate carefully so my voice didn’t crack into a falsetto…

Wader Cooler 4 AA batteries ensures five hours of continuous operation – exchanging fetid wader dampness for cool moist air.

Just clamp it firmly between your hams and try not to giggle.

Back at the campground and attached to a tent pole – it’ll restore a thin veneer of civilization to your outpost and may even make the family speak to you again.

At $44.95, that’s about 5% of the cost of the new whizbang wader – and with $5 of batteries per day, it should get you another decade on those old SIMM’s stashed in your closet.

Tags: battery operated swamp cooler, male enhancement, neoprene waders, wader cooler,

I might’ve called 60 minutes back but they were awful rude

I was idling at the curb picking up a buddy and couldn’t help overhear two youngsters squabbling on the sidewalk. One of them had professed the desire to tattoo his forearm – and the other was rejecting the idea as “totally lame.”

While not an official statement on the death of “sleeves” and the “tramp stamp”, it was a reminder that each generation perceives the prior as archaic and retarded.

Ever sensitive to the economy and the “bubble-bust” phenomenon, it means all those tattoo artists will be looking for work in the next decade.

A piece on fishing news caught my eye, how hatcheries are searching for better ways to tag fish – how the “fin clip” is overly time consuming allowing only 25,000 fish to be tagged per technician per day.

… which was quickly followed by another piece on “Benson” the famed UK carp that was discovered dead – and how the entire populace was either in mourning or demanding an autopsy.

I figured Benson and Michael Jackson might have the same physician; what with the King of Pop scheduled for a series of London concerts and the Baron of Boilies finning nearby..

…  60 Minutes didn’t see it that way and promptly hung up.

Add all the esoteric together and I’m thinking we can clothe the out of work tattoo artists in lab coats, seat them in a long line at the hatchery and mark all the fish needed in half the time.

… and Benson wasn’t a celebrity until he was huge and recognizable. Most fly fishermen would admit that one rainbow trout looks much like another – and a bit of individualistic flair on markings would allow us to recognize fish as individuals, which would please snot out of the folks at PETA…

… briefly, until they caught us laughing at the big dummy with the “Mom” tattoo – and how he ate anything thrown at him.

The new Hatchery fish

Scar tissue and torn mandibles are so last year. We could carry felt markers to count coup on the fish we caught – and make a big story out of the “untouched-never-been-caught-sumbitch” whose cherry we popped with our Zug Bug.

It’s all upside; people are back to work, hatcheries are humming efficiently, and we’ve got fishing celebrities whose stories we’ll tell in hushed voices around campfires…

Tags: Benson, Zug Bug, celebrity fish, unemployed tattoo artists, fashion statement, Rainbow Trout, Michael Jackson, 60 Minutes, PETA, tramp stamp