Anger Burger

Skunk Fishing

Posted by Sunday on Jan 8, 2012 at 2:11 pm

I was hoping this would be about frying trout, but it ain’t.

It’s about setting the alarm for 5:40 in the morning.

And wearing three pairs of socks at once, one of which is made from possum-fur.  And refusing delicious, hot, wonderful, magical warm coffee because you’re on a goddamn boat in the middle of a lake and you don’t want to be the person who instigates a poop-stop.

Unsurprisingly, much time was spent arguing the relative safety of island-living to ensure safety from the zombpocalypse.

Everyone once and a while we changed bait.  Different colors.  Spinners.  Glow in the dark.  Shrimp scented. Little pieces of earthworms.  Big pieces.  Then we started bargaining with the fish: we’ll take perch instead of trout.  Then we started threatening them: we were going to release¹ but now we’re going to keep you.  Eventually we told the fish we really just wanted hamburgers anyway, so we left.

¹ A lie.

January 8th, 2012 | Totally Unrelated

8 Responses to Skunk Fishing

  1. Dana says:

    Better luck next time!

  2. Sarah says:

    Never before has fishing (for skunk?) sounded so fantabulous. Except for the turning-down-coffee bit. Never a good reason to turn down a hot Thermos of coffee. Even for pooping!

    • Sunday says:

      I do regret not drinking the coffee. The lake we went to has terrifying public pit-in-the-ground latrines that would normally have been swarming with spiders and noxious gasses, but it was so cold that it was fresh as a frozen daisy inside. I should have just had the coffee.

  3. Jarvis says:

    I f’n love this blog! I think fishing is like gambling, if you hit big, you get hooked (bad pun unintentional). I’ve never caught a fish after trying many times, so i’d rather have the coffee and cause the doo-doo pit stop.

    • Sunday says:

      I used to catch fish all the time when I was a kid, but as an adult the skill eludes me. We’re going back, though. Just as soon as fish thaw out.

  4. cindy says:

    since I read this post…last week…I’ve been thinking of an island treehouse as the perfect thing for zombie safety for the zombpocolypse. assuming, of course, that zombies neither swim nor climb.

    • Sunday says:

      See, I assume they can swim. If they can retain the basic skills of walking, I figure swimming is also a sort of mindless, automatic method of locomotion. And they don’t have to breathe, so there’s nothing stopping them from just keeping at it until they get to you. Same goes for climbing simple ladders and stairs, but maybe not something complex like being able to construct a pile of debris to climb atop to reach something higher. I think the only real advantage of an island is to defend yourself against the living.

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