i saw this somewhere and it still makes me both laugh, puke in my mouth and feel sorry for rocks.
*note the leak in the wader on its left hind quarter.
put on yer X-ray specs and it turns to this
We here at the BWTF Research Institute for Cryptozoological Studies have been on Def Con 4 since news of this sighting came in on the red phone. You be the judge:
RIDGWAY, Pa. – It’s furry and walks on all fours.
Beyond that, about the only thing certain about the critter photographed by a hunter’s camera is that some people have gotten the notion it could be a Sasquatch, or bigfoot. Others say it’s just a bear with a bad skin infection.
Rick Jacobs says he got the pictures from a camera with an automatic trigger that he fastened to a tree in the Allegheny National Forest, about 115 miles northeast of Pittsburgh, hoping to photograph deer.
“We couldn’t figure out what they were,” Jacobs said of the images captured on Sept. 16. “I’ve been hunting for years and I’ve never seen anything like this.”
He contacted the Bigfoot Research Organization, which pursues reports of a legendary two-legged creature that some people believe lives in parts of the U.S. and Canada.
“It appears to be a primate-like animal. In my opinion, it appears to be a juvenile Sasquatch,” said Paul Majeta of the bigfoot group.
(excerpted from Yahoo! News)
The way more ballads should be written:
blue duct tape > silver duct tape
1. You feel super old and codgery, knowing you just kissed away your ride into the shit most pussies won’t run and thus, the lonely canyon waters only fished by you and your renegade band of retards.
2. You start looking for a new used drift boat to aptly play the tidewater salmon game proper (read: one that takes a 5 hp. outboard and houses a portable hibachi for impromptu meat grilling) and drive to the hellhole that is Chehalis, Washington, where said “good deal” comes attached to three holes in the right chine they forgot to tell you about 234 miles and a tank and half of 3.29/gallon biodiesel ago.
3. You get seven calls from people you know en route who’ve heard you sold your beloved little poacher cataraft, congratulating you on knocking your wife up and being smart enough to give up the whitewater thing for a few years.
4. You spend far too much time explaining the wife is not preggo, but selling the raft pretty much is the fishermen’s equivalent of “nesting.” they chastize you repeatedly for using the term nesting.
5. Fie. The seller’s remorse sets in, but there’s little you can do about it besides head for the solace of cold, pure Rainier Talls and make the long drive home to tell the understanding wife that your afternon of no work and even less fishing was all for naught.
fuck boys, gonna miss this little kittycat, so do me the solid of hoisting a 16 oz. Vitamin R to her and praying the Northwest doesn’t have a low water year, will ya? ’cause i’m sick and tired of swinging flies in low water through runs devoid of fish and know well enough that another year of shit flows is just gonna force me to get really good at pulling plugs.
gonna miss you, little ‘un:
while it’s an obvious PR move on PGE’s behalf, the kinder, gentler Beatdown’s not giving one iota ’cause this amazing metro river’s finally free as my balls in sweatpants and that makes a whole lotta people ’round these parts happy.
be sure you watch this one all the way to the end to see the difference. again, we’re living in an era of river reclamation fools, and that’s pretty gotdam special no matter who you are.
“Looks like a nice hatchery fish, Buzz.”
in a somewhat punk rock effort to confuse our purist brethren and send them into velcro-melting tirades, we at the Beatdown dedicated a decent portion of our summer steelheading to finding the most unethical fly a fish would eat.
on the swing. we’re not so inbred and lame that we’d actually try and create a nymph for chrissakes.
the goals included:
1. the minimum actual natural materials possible, if at all.
2. fished in the most untraditional manners.
we believed we may have achieved our goals with this downsized bass popper tied for steelhead. called the Retarded Kid, pretty much because we once described its pop and spit and gurgle action being akin to a retard who just shotgunned a 2 liter of Mountain Dew and is now watching his first porno. totally diabolical.
hook: Gamakatsu B10S stinger, size 2.
tail: two springs of black mylar, splayed like a sissy BWO tail.
body: one pinch of capilene belly button lint, which is usually a claret/navy color depending on the cleanliness of your hole. if you’ve inexcusably showered before the tying session, we’ve found pile clipped from a 1997 F250 floormat works nicely, as well.
head: black closed cell foam with a slight angle cut into the face, cored by filing off a 30.06 cartridge, sharpening the edges and twisting it into the foam, then removing said coring by any means necessary.
tying instructions:
1. wrap hook with thread, slit the bottom of foam and superglue it to the hook.
2. make, like 4 dozen of these, cause they only take about 43 seconds.
3. tie a small ball of belly lint above and even with the hook point.
4. splay said mylar springs, using awesome lint.
5. dub the rest of your lint forward to foam, and whip finish.
6. add more glue and stuff.
7. pass out extra flies to every damn one of your friends in an effort to create a movement and really put an itch in the ass of tradition.
fishing instructions:
while the fly wakes as well as a traditional bomber, we encourage you to pop the living hell outta the thing throughout the swing by ripping your rod tip up and down in 2′ increments. in truth, steelhead go batshit loony for this, and when said traditionalists stop their SUV and start sobbing about Haig-Brown, Jock Scott and other dead guys, calmly mention you’re not after steelhead, but smallmouth. this is particularly effective antagonism on rivers like the Trinity, camp water of the North Umpqua or the Deer Creek section of the Stilly, which you suspect would make “excellent bass habitat were it only managed properly.”
just before the traditionist’s implosion, add that you firmly believe these steelhead “decimate the smallmouth smolt population, which you find personally inexcusable.”
follow digression by grabbing the Rainier Tall you’ve stashed in the front of your waders, hoisting it skyward and screaming, “FUCK YEAH, just got on unemployment and gonna be here for the next month so bring on the Messican chicks!”
making thrusting motions with your hips is also a nice touch.