Category Archives: humor

50 Years of Science fiction ruined by a single biologist

Those giddy days of Halloween television, Ma insisted you were too young to watch a pissed humanoid water breather slime its way through the streets preying on the unwary, dragging screaming female teens into the cold bosom of a nearby bay …

… there to perform unimaginable and completely horrific unknown rituals on their taut … flesh …

Pop wasn’t allowed to watch either – and if the pair of you were caught he’d point finger and rat you out.

50 years of perfectly good science fiction ruined because some biologist discovered different …

Apparently fish gills aren’t just for breathing. A dual purpose organ which assists in ion exchange with the surrounding water, allowing fish to regulate their internal chemistry.

“In freshwater fish, like rainbow trout, they tend to lose ions from their blood to the water, because the ion concentration in blood is greater than that of freshwater,” she said.

The team took measurements from the gills of young, developing rainbow trout to find out what functions they were performing.

“When the gills are still immature, a significant portion of ion uptake occurs at the skin. As the fish get older and the gills mature, [this] can gradually shift to… the gills,” said Ms Fu.

“We found that ion uptake shifted from the skin to the gills earlier than oxygen uptake. This led us to propose that the gills are needed for ion regulation earlier than they are needed for oxygen uptake.”

This recent study suggests you may be twice the oaf for jamming them hammy hands into the gill area, as you may be injuring a delicate mechanism designed to suck up sewage, DDT, and twice distilled female hormones.

The good news is that Hollywood can reshoot all them old movies, and feature a really pissed man-eating-mostly-head Rainbow trout with a preference for nubile teen fems …

… and you get to claim innocence (while pointing the finger at Junior) – as you thought it was a Rivers that Cost Most remake …

I say, do the math. A steady influx of chemicals into the watershed and gills as chemical exchange – begats really muscular gills as the toxic burden increases, requiring evolution and expansion of the skull area – resulting in (possibly) larger brains and huge gill assemblies.

That larger head should make big teeth an evolutionary no-brainer, and the result will be a sentient, really pissed, mostly head, rainbow trout – with the ability to harsh your mellow, babe.

… better learn how to cast from a shark cage.

Tags: fish gills, gill evolution, University of British Columbia, Clarice Fu, DDT, rainbow trout, ion exchange, sewage, DDT, science fiction, nubile teens, pissed water breather

Nothing like having a chalkstream in your backyard

The ringtone belonged to “Deep Walnut”, the Yolo county landowner I’d turned to the side of righteousness. The pleasantries were brief, and I was informed that the annual “crop report” outlining the sins of watery tomatoes had been secreted on the grounds of my residence.

Sure it’s a touch over the top, but in a smallish town when it’s raining – what else is there to do.

Actually “Deep Walnut” is a double agent – as the document merely outlines the crap I waded through last season, and how far over the state approved environmental standards the pollutants have climbed.

I figure his handlers are slapping each other heartily knowing no sane person would wade through known carcinogens and medical waste – but sanity has never been a strong suit, so I just hand the list to the physician while he readies an armada of large gauge needles with which to violate my posterior.

… and yes, this report was an eye opener. Outlining enough naturally occurring Boron that I’d consider wedging a mandrel in the substrate just to see if I’d have a functioning six weight after a sustained downpour.

… a steady rise in the salinity of the water, as well as a pH of 9.0 – both exceeding state guidelines. It’s a comfort that with all the decline in quality waters that I’ve got a chalkstream being deposited on my doorstep, which should recoup last year’s 50% decline in home value.

Unfortunately most of the wells near my house have been closed due to nitrate contamination. Both Woodland and Davis get much of their drinking water from groundwater, and at least four (those near my house) have already been closed.

… so I’m looking to close escrow with a fly fisherman. Civilians will not appreciate the view from my veranda, nor those contaminated sparkling waters anytime this century, and most of the next.

I’d petition to rename the street “Love Canal” but most of the water managers are too young to get the joke …

I suppose the biologists took one look at the local creek and skipped over the mayflies and stoneflies, choosing Cerodaphnia Dubia (water fleas) to measure toxicity.

Didn’t help, they died screaming …

But the good news has to be the toxic algae bloom and the increase in eColi found. Proof that the local creek is capable of hosting a diverse ecosystem containing predators and killer bio-toxins.

… and with all the microscopic nasty entering the food chain, and slurped gleefully by the young-of-the-year fry, the fish should be virile, aggressive and subdued with nothing less than a single-jack.

… and all it’ll take to realize this angling paradise, this lone speck of quality amidst the dust bowl of the Central Valley? Just add water.

Tags: Brownlining, Little Stinking, Deep Walnut, Yolo County Farm Bureau, cerodaphnia dubia, ecoli, boron, selenium, fly fishing, Woodland, Davis, groundwater contamination

A most flagrant violation of a fly fishing reserved word

Nike Mayfly Most would agree that Nike has always been a poster child for cutting edge marketing coupled with a flair for picking the proper spokesman.

Michael Jordan is an empire unto himself, and while Tiger Woods is no slouch, the “Just Do It” mantra might have touched a nerve …

Nike’s mistake was using one of fly fishing’s most sacred words to brand a product – affording me the luxury of taking them to task.

Mayfly? You sure you want to name them that?

I’d sure want a $50 dollar running shoe designed for a single 100m marathon, complete with Tyvek uppers and embossed wings – until I learned the real “Mayfly” spent up to three years underwater and emerged for a week or so intent on nothing but sex …

… I’d tiptoe around these two or three times trying to determine whether I’d burrow, cling or crawl, scratch all my skin off – then mount the fellow holding the starter pistol …

Tags: Nike Mayfly, Tyvek paper, sexual stage, branding

The “woodsy” self versus the thin veneer of civilization

Last night was a flurry of pots and pans, screaming cooks with blistered fingers, slopped sugary icing, and my complete abandonment of the angling world.

This time of year similar scenes are playing out in kitchens everywhere – and most anglers are smart enough to make themselves scarce, go fishing, or nurse barked knuckles after being repulsed in their attempt to lick spoons.

In stark contrast to their fishing personae, I’m left wondering how the women I’ve fished with transition from “did you wash your hands” to complete killers …

‘Because up here in Alaska, well, one, we — a lot of us, you know, we smell like salmon’

… and how is it that some vestige of the woodlands variant doesn’t mix with the civilized version.

As a guy “cook” I’m obliged to lay my offerings at the coffee pot along with the rest of the assemblage. Despite hours of painstaking preparation the Lemon Bars are housed in Taco Bell salad containers – and the Christmas Stollen lays astride a greasy cardboard box.

Surrounded by platters of carefully arranged and immaculately presented baked goods, moot evidence of my male insensitivity, lack of artistic merit, and unsanitary kitchen – while the female version looks twice as good as they taste.

Why is it my feminine side is only on display when fly fishing?

Perfect presentations and artistic sensibilities abound when tying or fishing, yet food is “.. it’s got sugar in it, shuddup.”

… and the converse is just as true. Safely ensconced within civilization gals are concerned with artistry and hygiene, and in the woods can’t hit the broadside of a barn with a spatula, yet mix fish guts and sandwiches with the best of us.

The fingerprints in the icing don’t slow the “vanish rate” any – as stern looks surrender to the beatific smiles of sugary satiation. But that’s proof of subconscious lust – conscious thought being suspended.

… and I can go on all day about the proper accompaniment for a bronze dun hackle to assist its contrast with an olive thorax, then scuttle away horrified if the subject shifts to curtains ..

Busy calling the kettle black – I may have answered my own question.

Tags:woodsy self, unwashed hands, chief cook and bottle washer, fly fishing, unsanitary Renaissance Man, shuddup

Red with Beef, White with Fish, Ripple with a Twinkie

It’s the spark that ignited open warfare in my household. Pots and Pans hurled with much force and even greater accuracy – while I backpedal giving the kitchen door a couple of measured three second bursts …

I always figured our relationship would end bloody. She’d discover her favorite dish towels dyed florescent Puce, wadded under the sink out of sight … or the carpet would yield another 3/0 O’Shaughnessy – buried to the bend in either her hindquarter or big toe.

Fishermen can’t help but strain the boundaries of domesticity with our early morning departures, bleeding gut-stomped prey, or the many sharp accessories we toss around while unpacking.

… toss around and fail to pick up …

We wept during the highly charged, romantic segments of “Rivers of a Lost Coast” – up until they mentioned the Russian River was depopulated compliments of the wine industry. I could feel her stiffen in protest – but took her mind off of “those obscene lies” with chocolate.

… wine being her most favorite thing, more favorite than me …

Then I had the audacity to perpetuate “another heinous liberal myth, like Global Warming” – by posting this piece, and ever since only the fourth kind of sex is available, where you pass each other in the hallway and say “f**k you.”

Unfortunately the Santa Rosa Press Democrat made mention of the phenom, so I’m duty-bound to pass it on.

“We’re here to protect fish as well, but it can’t be done by eliminating the viticulture industry in Mendocino and Sonoma County,” said Devon Jones, executive director of the Mendocino County Farm Bureau.”

To which I’d reply, “Nuts.”

The Napa wineries have spilled over a couple of valleys and into a half dozen watersheds – and all the jug wines are now grown in the Central Valley proper. Many thousands of acres of tomatoes and almonds uprooted to mass produce cheap Chardonnay, Burgundy, and lesser grapes.

I’ve enjoyed wine (jug or otherwise) for many years – but this talk of “absolutes” is starting to become overly burdensome.

… perhaps you’ll have to keep 20,000 acres fallow – to ensure a half dozen sickly Salmon can gasp their way to former haunts – there to expire. Keeping those fish will not extinct the Napa Valley or anything close to it – vintners are objecting at having to share.

“It is really critical that all growers get involved with this,” said Nick Frey, president of the 1,800-member Sonoma County Wine Grape Commission.

This spring “there’s a risk of not everyone having water for frost protection,” Frey said.”

I’ll make you a deal. As some of the founding fathers and “Johnny-come-lately’s” will have to surrender some of the most fertile soil (to ensure salmon survive) …

… we’ll allow you to grow dope in Mendocino.

As you’d have money coming out of your ears – and a lock on the medical marijuana market, you can uproot your restored turn-of-the-century farmhouse – complete with clinking glassware and Marin-gentrified lifestyle – and move North.

As pure sewage can only improve your end product (and may even improve its taste) we’ll let you have an equivalent amount of lukewarm brown water from whatever impoundment is nearby.

… you won’t need to worry about frost, as you’ll harvest all that bud in September …

… and your spendthrift wastrel kids will have the chance to appreciate the richness of your Chardonnay, as they’ll have something to eat with it besides a Twinkie …

Tags: Santa Rosa Press Democrat, Rivers of a Lost Coast, domestic bliss, Napa Valley wineries, Russian River, salmon, medical marijuana, open warfare, think outside the box

109 Seconds to make you an entomological genius, and the toast of the Office XMAS Party

Only 109 seconds to master both human nature and entomology. You’ll master aquatic, terrestrial, learned behavior – and be able to relate to your children as never before.

No need to thank me, it’s what I do …

Warning: Don’t drink coffee while watching, it may come out of your nose.

… and all my taxpayer dollars were spent on, “Just Say No?” For the price paid we could’ve exhumed Walt Disney, brought him back to life, and been in syndication by now.

Tags: Spiders on drugs, YouTube, entomology, Walt Disney, Crack Spider’s bitch

Just one economic uptick away from your Fish mobile

Some small segment of the readership gnashed teeth when the news broke of Hummer being sold to a Chinese company. Monstrous vehicles and the taming of wilderness go hand in hand with the fishing ethic ..

Most anglers assume that long hikes from the parking lot leave the hatchery fish and beer guzzlers a distant memory, and the ability to mash the forest flat while reclining in air conditioned splendor is the same thing, only less sweaty.

While the rest of the crowd promotes tents with solar panels, recycled water, butane stoves, and “Top 10” posts of natural occurring toilet paper substitutes – we know you better and won’t waste your time.

… you’re one economic uptick away from that Hummer, a couple thousand dollar fly rods to match, and if the new manufacturer offers the base model with tracks and bogey wheels – you’ll take that over milquetoast mud n’ snow’s any day.

Dartz Armored with Whale Penis interior

While you’re at it you may want to think past the weekend expedition –and all those pine trees you mashed into the forest duff, how you laughed and made faces while the Warden emptied a couple of clips in your direction, as you rolled over his Jimmy like it was tinfoil …

It’s the Dartz armored. Mongolia was cool – but Camels have fleas and now you’re looking for something more serious…

Unfortunately you’re too late. The Eddie Bauer model had whale penis leather interior, they’ve dropped the lux package – due to the violent protest from Greenpeace and opted for something less painful to whales.

Nickname potential must’ve scared them off, especially with us less fortunate in the crosswalk fearful of the throaty rumble and pale skinned Dot Com wunderkind looking truculent behind tinted glass …

… another “Dick on Dick” comes to mind.

Tags: Dartz, armored SUV, fishing, whale penis leather interior, Fish mobile, far from the beaten path, glampers, carbon sensitive

A series of indignities that influence us even today

Bait fishing wasn’t so bad, especially after we discovered which of our dumb-assed buddies was really interested in fishing, and which were there just to break rods.

Lure fishing was better. We were suddenly agile – no longer rooted. Fishing became seduction versus sitting motionless hoping to be victimized. Fly fishing was better yet, we could tweak even more variables and influence the “eat, don’t eat” decision on levels beyond mere presentation and retrieve.

Yet fishing is a series of indignities, and as we mature both as individuals and fishermen we find elements better suited to our individual needs and unique rewards system. We don’t lose all of our past history, traces of each stage in our development linger and influence both our angling and personal tastes.

Some of my foibles can be traced back to my earliest angling efforts. Pautzke’s “Balls of Fire” and the discovery they were available in an ersatz cheddar-like flavor.

I was a purist even in those days, and carried my jug with its green and white lid in a battered tacklebox filled with snelled gold hooks and stained Kastmasters I’d pried off tree limbs during low water.

It could of been Skoal, Marlboro’s or any of the other brand conscious dalliances we discovered later, in my eyes it was purely a gelatinous killing machine, and my youthful naiveté hadn’t yet formed the Big Question; how salmon and trout would ever see each other in a landlocked impoundment.

That all changed with Watergate…

My predilection for fishing being well known, I was gifted a new green tacklebox containing much needed supplies. Perched in the lower section was the familiar Pautzke’s label, but the lid was white and the eggs were orange …

Trout?

Fishing was damn slow that day and I remember opening that jug gingerly … any fool knows that real salmon eggs are bright crimson, so bright that when you wipe your hands on blue jeans even Ma complains.

salmon?

I mashed the first one expecting the same reaction as the crimson flavor, but the cheddar egg simply discolored a bit and turned into something you’d as soon not have clinging to extremities – much less step in …

It was the call of “angling science” that prompted the second one to get mashed between teeth, the fishing being slow, the lake being remote, and someone else forgetting their lunch and borrowing half of mine …

I’ve no stomach for caviar to this day, and frankly don’t give a damn what the Good Stuff costs, it’s goddamn bait.

Tags: Pautzke’s Balls of Fire, salmon eggs, caviar, sturgeon roe, trout roe, fish eggs, tastes like nasty,

I’m not sure I have to rattle anything

Dear Older Bro,

You’ve been quiet of late which means you’ve found the joke gift that will enrage me – while you scuttle behind the Christmas tree and Ma’s protective skirts – making funny faces over her shoulder, knowing I can’t take a swing at you ‘cause Ma would be disappointed and knock us both senseless.

I’ve got a couple of brain cells left – perhaps more’n you – and have already guessed what deviltry you’re up to ….

In your glee at finding the gift that settles scores for the Simm’s floatation vest I gave you last year … the one whose bladder was filled with QuikDri concrete powder – that you managed to wriggle free from before your oxygen ran out … which I can’t believe you’re still holding against me, as any Captain worth his salt goes down with his ship …

… might I remind you that this gift is only effective if I see it – not wear it. Don’t buy the extra-large in Black for me to wear – rather the medium in Pink is more appropriate. In this manner Sweetpea will immediately claim “it’s the height of fashion pajamas” and will parade herself around with message displayed prominently until it’s nearly threadbare.

As Ma might read this, which is likely as the “hit counter” now stands at “two” – I’ll save all them sincere emotions for when Ma ain’t looking…

Your vengeful adoring Younger Brother.

Tags: QuikDri cement, demotivators.com, Simm’s floatation vest, Christmas

In time for the holidays, Tough As Nails Barbie

While the rest of you are droning on about weights and tapers, modulus and action, I’ll be downstream ….

… just me and my Blue Water Barbie.

Via John Merwin and his Honest Angler blog, comes an eye opening video of a fellow catching a 100 pound blue shark on bright pink Barbie rod, complete with closed face spinning reel – and the precision drag system that makes some classic metal chunking sounds…

We’re always insisting that fly tackle offers the best “feel” of a fighting fish – but I’m not sure our rods can bend like Old Barbster.

I about died laughing, as did the assembled crew.

I’ve got one of these hanging proudly over the mantle, compliments of older brother and his misguided humor.

Now who has the last laugh?

Tags: Field & Stream, John Merwin, Barbie Rod, Blue Shark,

Singlebarbed

Fly fishing the Unloved & Unclean