Songs, Poetry, Stories, Cheap Coyote Tricks, and Other Stuff
Posted in BWTF Seal Of Approval, Flies: Badass, Raunchy Ballads, Ridiculously Brilliant, You Won't Find This Shit On The Fly Fishing Rabbi on December 31st, 2007 by SmithhammerIn our ongoing efforts to bring you the funk that surrounds our sport, we turn the spotlight on writer, bard, lit professor, cartoonist, avid naked fishing competitor and originator of the Bugger Duck (a bugger sort of thing that incorporates duck tape), Mr. Greg Keeler.
Greg was good enough to drop by the Buster Bunker for a little chat over sum whikky. A few highlights:
BWTF: Have you been successful at incorporating duck tape into other flies besides the Bugger Duck?
GK: Yes, lots. In one of my favorites, I hold a little strip of lead against the shank of a #14 hook and wrap it on with a tiny strip of duck tape. Then I pull two or three whiskers from my beard, tape them on and trim them for a tail. I have to use a vice on this one, what with my sausage fingers and all. It works really well during winter thaws. I call it Industry on Parade.
I also tape a dry fly called Styrodeath. I tape up the shank of a #6-12 long shank hook then cut a little strip of styrofoam from a cup and tightly wrap it in tape on the taped hook. It works well in the summer. I guess trout think it’s a beetle. Sometimes I’ll tape some beard whiskers so they stick back from the head. I guess they think it’s some kind of half-assed grasshopper.
BWTF: Is a follow-up to your album, “Troutball” in the works? If so, may we be so bold as to suggest it be called, “Fyshnutz?”
GK: Fyshnutz–hmmmm. Or perhaps carpspooge? I’ll be working on it
BWTF: After reading the “Epiphany of the Weeping Sucker” we were so moved that we erected a Ding Dong altar in a corner of the Buster Bunker. Fortnightly, we leave a shot glass of whiskey on top of the altar, and, God’s honest truth - fifthmorningly we awake to find it consumed. Have you had any similar sucker-natural experiences?
GK: Yes, I’ve had several sucker-natural experiences. Last year I caught a sucker that was twice as big as God. I placed it on an oil-drum sacrificial alter and left it for three days. On the third day, I returned, and lo, an angel of the mud had removed many tiny cubes from its flesh (presumably to use for bait). It looked like a decaying meat quarry.
White Fish Blues (click for audio version)
When I see rainbow jumpin’,
Make me want to pinch my barb ’cause she’s so fine.
Yes, when I see rainbow jumpin’,
Make me want to pinch my barb ’cause she’s so fine.
But when I see white fish poppin in a patch of scum, Baby,
I don’t even want to wet my line….
Now that there’s just hella good songwritin’ no matter how you slice it, son. Check out Greg’s site for a whole multifarious treasure trove of piscatorial funkitude:
