Beans, Beans, the Magical Fruit

The sort of secret blog of Beans, a.k.a. Jules, a.k.a. "Legs for Miles" a.k.a. "Rackie the Boob Queen." Fine, ok, not the last two. Starting July 2006, sometimes "Mike," aka "fagadoccio," is a co-poster on the blog. The co-poster child, really.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Not on My Watch, Not This Time!

So I think we all remember the TRAVESTY that occurred earlier this week, when I let the biggest fish of all time slip through my fingers, or rather, off my rocky shoal.

Anyway, Anne caught a pike yesterday (3 in one evening in fact, and the last two pretty substantial) and as I went to pin it down and get the lure out of its mouth, it slipped from my hands and went back into the water.

At this point, a normal person would have kicked themselves, sure, maybe lathered up into some real anger. But a person who only a few days hence suffered a physchological meltdown from the loss of a fish is not a normal person. So without so much as a twitch of hesitation, I threw myself fully clothed into the water and the tidal rocks, slapping after the pike like a bar of soap in the bath.

Long story humiliating, after I gave up on the fish and found myself on hands and bloodied knees, covered in mold and moss and dripping wet, I did the mature thing and banged my head against the rock, wailing about how I can't hold on to a fish, I'm cursed, etc. Then my sister pointed to a tidal pool at my thigh, in which the fish was quietly sitting like a loyal hound. I picked it up, whacked it on the head, and decided I don't have what it takes to be a fisherman.

Unlike these sociopaths.


Post a Comment

<< Home