That's some mighty big tackle
Jim is a man who really doesn't get to fish as often as he would like. No, that's not a euphemism, so don't go gettin' all smarmy about his rod, reel, and tackle. He's found a couple of new fishin' holes spots this year, and I've encouraged him to get his money's worth out of the license he bought. Just as long as he doesn't actually bring any of the fish home and expect gutting action from me, I'm just fine with it.
Last night, he made a trip out to one of his new haunts, which is at least a 20-minute drive. He'd no sooner gotten settled in and made his first cast when his reel busted. First fucking cast. He made the best of it and turned it into a hike as long as he was there, but our first order of business today was to go find him a replacement reel.
I'd never shopped at Gander Mountain before, and I have to admit, their fishing paraphernalia department is impressive. For Jim, it was akin to aisles and aisles of candy store, and he went forth with much gusto to choose the Perfect Reel.
For my part, well...man, I can only be entertained in the fishing department for so long. I started to wander, hopin' to find some mountain bikes or punching bags or something I had any interest in viewing. I didn't want to wander too far, and have a whole aisle-searchin' slapstick when it was time to leave, so I went as far as the water skiing doodads and then turned back to the rods, reels, and everything in between. I wandered past the reels and the poles, and found myself face to face with some unexpectedly large lures.
I've seen a lot of the smaller lures and plastic fakey worms and such, but the extent of my fishing experience is for fish of a small size, like bluegill or sunfish. The lures I found in front of me were for some seriously big scaley beasts. I looked at the packages: "9-inch Super Stalker!" and "10-inch Believe!" and I started to be confused as to just what kind of store this was. These curiously phallic items, with their proud proclamations of their generous inchery, seemed more like something one would buy in one of those stores where they put in batteries and make sure the motor works before one takes it home and inserts it into one's orifices, thus rendering it unreturnable. Uh, if one were so inclined.
Makes me wonder just what it is they're not showin' us on those fishing programs.
Last night, he made a trip out to one of his new haunts, which is at least a 20-minute drive. He'd no sooner gotten settled in and made his first cast when his reel busted. First fucking cast. He made the best of it and turned it into a hike as long as he was there, but our first order of business today was to go find him a replacement reel.
I'd never shopped at Gander Mountain before, and I have to admit, their fishing paraphernalia department is impressive. For Jim, it was akin to aisles and aisles of candy store, and he went forth with much gusto to choose the Perfect Reel.
For my part, well...man, I can only be entertained in the fishing department for so long. I started to wander, hopin' to find some mountain bikes or punching bags or something I had any interest in viewing. I didn't want to wander too far, and have a whole aisle-searchin' slapstick when it was time to leave, so I went as far as the water skiing doodads and then turned back to the rods, reels, and everything in between. I wandered past the reels and the poles, and found myself face to face with some unexpectedly large lures.
I've seen a lot of the smaller lures and plastic fakey worms and such, but the extent of my fishing experience is for fish of a small size, like bluegill or sunfish. The lures I found in front of me were for some seriously big scaley beasts. I looked at the packages: "9-inch Super Stalker!" and "10-inch Believe!" and I started to be confused as to just what kind of store this was. These curiously phallic items, with their proud proclamations of their generous inchery, seemed more like something one would buy in one of those stores where they put in batteries and make sure the motor works before one takes it home and inserts it into one's orifices, thus rendering it unreturnable. Uh, if one were so inclined.
Makes me wonder just what it is they're not showin' us on those fishing programs.
Katy Barzedor proclaimed this to be so at 5:13 PM
23 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':
LMAO!!!!!!! OMG, I was thinking that when I was reading the titles.. "10-Inch Believe"; too funny.
But the real question is... is Jim a master-baiter? (Sorry - someone was going to say it, I figured it might as well be me!)
Ewwwww. That's all I've got.
Makes me wonder if Ron Popeil (creator of the Pocket Fisherman) has tried these large lures?
"Is that a lure in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?
Kitty - which is fine if it's not a downright lie. Woe to the liars...
MsPerdie - I swear, that's the first thing I thought of when I saw these. And then I was transfixed.
Charlotte - Like my brothers always said when Mom would yell at 'em for makin' fun of me, "But Mom, it had to be said!"
I don't know if he's a master at it, but he does have his black belt.
Madame D - What, you never looked lustfully at fishin' tackle?
Sierrabella - I'm pretty sure it was happy to see me. I'm not so sure I wasn't happy to see it, either.
Spoonie - I find that, in the long run, it's cheaper to buy sex toys that plug into an electrical outlet and/or a car battery.
Theoretically.
I wanna know what Jim was doing with such zeal that he busted his reel. Did it make him squeel while he gave it a feel?
Being as I'm the classy sister I'm not going to say what I was thinking about. I will just say that I hope you and Jim enjoy his new reel. You know, when he's out fishing you can catch up on General Hospital. What did you think I meant.
Those lure names sound like the subject lines of my email spam.
Hey at least he found some fishin' holes... rather than some FISHY holes:)
I cant believe you had never been in Gander Mountain before. That place is the scariest most awful place in the whole world. My dad is in love with that store and I am forced to go there to get him gift cards alll the time. Its awful. Dead poor stuffed critters everywhere, stuff to kill them with. I hate it. That place makes me want to cry.
But if they are selling sex toys now, I might have to give it another chance.
So much for wiggling the worm, I guess size in fact does matter.
Mmmm gutting action.
Don't believe what the packages say about lure size. They're measuring from the top of the ass crack and up around.
And for real economy, plus the rugged durability a woman like you would need, I'd recommend a minimum of 4.5 HP gas-fired with a pull-start. You can tell the neighbours you're doing renovations and the sound they're hearing is a chain saw.
Mr. B - You'll have to ask Toni Tennille. (Hey, c'mon, you took all the best rhymes already)
Squirl - how can I possibly have my dozens of illicit lovers parade through the house if Jim can't go fishin'? I mean, it would be disrespectful to do it while he's home.
LadyBug - now you know you don't need spam - just Gander Mountain.
Nugget - I'm always thankful for the small miracles.
Jess - First thing I saw when I walked in was a mounted moose head. Charming.
And the sex toys? Some of 'em even had metal hook things that I bet would work with your piercings, or give you NEW piercings!
*shudder* Okay, I'm even squickin' myself with that kinda talk.
Zombie - Size isn't everything, but you gotta love a jumbo nightcrawler.
Nilbo - I go all weak in the knees when you start talkin' about rugged durabiliity...
I will never be able to watch one of those boring fishing shows the same way again. It's almost fish porn.
Kat - It's like I've always wondered about those TV fishing dudes: What exactly happens in between "catch" and "release"???
Well, I am here to say that I used a lure like that just North of Marquette. It was my first time (yes, a big lure virgin) I caught a Muskie. I threw him back. Fish Musk is not my scent.
I learned when one uses a lure as old as that one, a Muskie is all you'd get on 6 1/2 inches. Usually that or a long, mean ole Pike with sharp TEETH..that I don't need either.
DP - biggest fish I ever caught was a bullhead, which caused a mild panic on the pontoon. I'm pretty sure Jim wound up with a puncture on his hand because he took the thing off the hook and threw it back for me.
See, that's why I restrict myself to fly fishing. And I'm not going to clarify that at all.
Eclectic - Is that a fish behind your fly, or are you just happy to see me?
Sometimes, it's how ya bait the bate.
With the Oil spill that I experienced on Sunday, I ain't goin fishin for a long time. (Ya'll'd hafta visit my post ta know what the hay happened.)
warnin': it ain't purdy...
GW - I think you're gonna need this here bigger box o' Bounty.
Buckin, your impathy is preciated..bless all four o them eyes o y'lls o n have fun fishin...just be careful b'for you and Jim Jim there end up with 3 eyeballs between yaz
Back in the late 90's the original home for New World Odor hosted a fishing site. It still can be found. Here are the top 10 fishing terms that sound dirty but really aren't.
http://members.tripod.com/~jerkbait/articles/topten.html
There's a kick ass story about X24 and me fishing with Herve Villachaise. Surf about and check it out. There are a lot of broken links, I have not maintained it since 2000.
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