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Old 12-20-2008, 10:03 AM
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Location: Chatham County, North Carolina
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Default Now THAT was Stupid

If you can’t laugh at yourself you might as well give up fishing and take up shuffleboard or sudoku or something. Sometimes you do things so inane that it seriously makes you wonder how you could ever expect to outsmart even the dumbest of fishes. (Actually, now that I think about it, I usually don’t.) Looking back, some of those brain cramps can be pretty funny.

So, as Jack Frost limits our fishing reports, let’s hear some of those stories. Tell us about the time you:

…. casted for 20 minutes, missing fish after fish, before you realized you had tied on your backyard practice popper. You know, the one whose hook you neatly clipped in mid-bend so as not to hang in the forsythia.

…. or the time your loving, concerned wife bought you a hiking GPS for your birthday because the week before you had gotten completely and hopelessly lost on a backcountry trout stream

…. or the time you and your two buddies chased false albacore until you realized that you were the only boat left out on the whole freakin’ eastern seaboard and subsequently had to “three blind mice” it through the treacherous Cape Lookout inlet buoy slalom in the wicked fogbank, and ensuing darkness, that everyone else seemed to know was coming

…. or the time you discovered, tearfully, that fly rods and sliding truck windows don’t mix

.... nor do cell phones and wet wading

…. or the time you took a shortcut across some mud flats, only to sink to mid-thigh, struggle to escape, barely keeping a grip on your boots, while a group of deer calmly watched you from the wood’s edge, laughing at you with their silent deer laughs, telling each other how you didn’t see THEIR hoof prints out there in that muck, and, despite your having fed them your nice azalea bushes and tender garden greens, they didn’t have the courtesy to pull a Lassie for you and go get Timmy, or Ranger Bob, or SOMEONE (but please, no, not my loving, concerned wife, or next birthday she’ll get me an emergency flare or something really humbling). No, you’re going to die a slow, lingering death there in the mud and they just look at you, those snarky, dumb deer, laughing, chewing, stupid deer. Venison, you hear me, VENISON!!! Uhhh, ummm, excuse me a moment….

Deep breaths… Deep breaths… Deeeeeep Breeeeaaattthhhhhhs.…

Okay. Of course, none of these things happened to me this year (twitch), but if they did, they’d be sort of funny, after a little therapy. (Well, maybe all except those snarky deer). So, while the fishing is slow, take a moment to tell on yourself. Enjoy a good laugh at your own expense. Revel in the stupidity. Let it out. Rest assured, we’ll laugh with you, not at you.
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