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.