Category Archives: Fishing
Hey whoah the Olympics is over. We can now resume our normal tele watching routines.
What’s that? There’s nothing good on tele in Britain? Oh what an almighty shame. Because if you travel to the US there’s always something on the box, and by something I mean repetitive reality TV. Its the golden chalice of entertainment. It’s the peaches to my cream. It’s so good it’ll make you want to take off your trousers and helicopter.
My potentially obvious sarcasm stems from an advertisement for a brand new reality television show I saw advertised recently. It’s called ‘Tanked’ and features a couple of middle aged blokes making fish tanks for rich people.
After watching this commercial I travelled to the local fishing lake and caught myself a 5lb catfish. I then drove to the nearest pet shop and repeatedly threw said catfish at the stores biggest, most extravagant fish tank, causing deafening vibrations to the clearly petrified creatures inside, and making the tank look like a disgusting bloody mess. I proceeded in savagely eating the dismembered catfish raw in front of the shops horrified visiting children and their parents.
I wonder where the days went when reality TV actually had an interesting draw. Something attractive about the show that set it apart from the other dribble we witness everyday. Of course gems such as ‘The Amazing Race’, ‘Survivor’ and ‘The Apprentice’ are still around, but these programmes are now feeling a little dated as the years have gone by, and are drown out by poisons that are ‘Orange County Housewives’, ‘Jersey Housewives’, ‘Housewives of Atlanta’ and ‘The Real Housewives of Baghdad’. The only shining light I’ve seen recently is TNTs new series ‘The Great Escape’ – a show where three teams of two must escape from famous facilities or locations of the world. Although the illusion is somewhat lost when contestants are caught by guards and must start from the beginning, as by this point it starts to feel more like an elaborate game of hide and seek with puzzles that have a difficulty level of nursery at best.
However, I can still find solace in my true love that is Hell’s Kitchen which is nearing its climax. There’s something strangely relaxing about watching Gordon Ramsey belittle and embarrass bungling chefs while they argue with each other about whose less crap at cooking.
I think I’m just happy I don’t have to watch Waterpolo on NBC anymore. I was getting horribly fed up of hearing about the Olympics and I’m glad they’re over. Oh, the Paralympics starts in a couple of weeks?
Fishing is overrated. Maybe that’s just because I can’t catch anything. I get one of them weird feelings while I’m fishing where I keep thinking they’re plotting against me.
They keep suggestively splashing in the water, reminding me that they’re actually there, taunting me. They’ll eat algae off the bottom of small ponds but they’ll not touch my bait, I mean who doesn’t like reduced fat turkey hot dogs?
I read somewhere that fish don’t feel pain. I can’t help but think that’s just an excuse so fisherman don’t feel bad about themselves. If I had been granted three wishes I’d make it so fish can vent their physical and psychological anguish to their captors, then hopefully they’d need some heavy counselling. That would be after I’d wished for an unlimited supply of spicy tacos and a talking pet chimp.
Maybe I’m just doing it wrong. Those guys on “Hillbilly Hand Fishing” make it look so easy. Just reach in and pull ’em out. When I tried that I got nothing but an old bike tire. Eventually the boredom sets in and the stench of failure invades the air, what the hell is their problem?
I know, I’ll try worms. I pierce the hook through the worm, and submerge it into the swampy depth. After another age of disappointment passes by, the worm looks bored.
I’m boring the bait.
At this point I’m packing in, I’m not letting a worm make a mockery of my pride. I can’t handle the humiliation, I can feel the fish laughing and sniggering at me. I feel bullied and lonely and retreat back to the dock, if I could catch anything I’d release a swarm of small tiger sharks into the pond for instant revenge. That would teach them to play with peoples emotions. Jerks.