When I have an itch, i scratch and scratch until I itch no more. So with hot, moist winds from the south, like the clammy breath of Poseidon himself, I spent the first half hour of the morning walking the dog with a pink she-pup. I would have done it longer, but a kleptomaniac redfish grabbed it, and after a tug of war, stole it from my line right at the net and scuttled off leaving mud puffs as he laughed. Thief! My knot was in shambles. It was a nonslip loop knot and those aren't known for their strength. So I retied with a Palomar knot. Heresy according to all the articles and forum posts I read because supposedly the pup won't walk as well without the loop knot. I figured I'd let the redfish decide since most angling writers have overactive imaginations and inflated self-esteem.
Hey redfish! Do you care if the knot isn't a loop?
Good! That settles one of the galaxy's longest lasting mysteries. If your eyes are sharp, you might have noticed that I have a swell rubber net. No more hooks getting snagged and making me scream profanities into the marsh. I managed to get a couple more reds to eat the black, silver, and orange she-pup, but then word got out. Or maybe Putin is collaborating with the reds of the marsh and told them to watch out for my top water. He's tricky, that commie!
I got scared thinking that ol' Vlad might hack my fishing trip, so I switched to the best redfish lure in this dimensional plane and probably all others, the gold spinnerbaits with a chartreuse mullet tail. Sure enough, the fish ate it like there was no tomorrow.
They all wound up like this:
The wind died down later in the day and the squadrons of mosquitoes descended, so I headed home, where I am now. I hope you got out and got some fish before this frigid blast hit. I think I just heard a wampa bellowing out my back door. I'm going to shut out the lights and hide under my bead now. Remember me as I was.
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