CATCHING

I looked like this all day.

Here I am with 45 minutes until a friend shows up and I've done all the shit I set out to do today and instead of watching the first 45 minutes of my favorite Bubba's Away Movie (Cold Mountain - he hates it now after the 435th viewing. Slacker.), I'm writing this post.

For you guys.

BECAUSE I'M NICE LIKE THAT.

Actually, no, I just want to get the random post trend started back up again now that the whole pesky BIG HUGE THING NEWS event of 2012 has come, gone and resulted in gainful employment.

Thank the maker that shit's over. Now we can talk about important random shit like HEY I CAUGHT A BOAT LOAD OF FUCKING FISH WOO!

Yeah, that's right, I got to go fishing. And, to quote my beloved hilarious slightly miffed father, "This is called FISHING, Jessie (my dad calls me Jessie. NOT YOU GUYS. Or anyone other than immediate family that has known me since I was wee. So shut it all up.). You're just CATCHING. You're doing it wrong."

Which he screamed from his boat on Father's Day morn as I caught, along with Bubba and my sweet uncle on our boat, "All the fish in the lake so that no one else had a fucking chance."

Or so says Finny's dad.

Salty sailor, this guy.

You may be getting an idea about from where I get this spicy language. Go with that. You're on to something.

Anyway, yeah. Bubba planned a very lovely Father's Day fishing trip for my dad and uncle to Crowley Lake (just outside Mammoth, CA) and let my brother and I tag along.

I saw it as a very sweet ruse to get me out on a boat for a day of guided fishing, but that's because I see all outings in which I participate as outings created with only me in mind.

Because it's all about me.

You know this.

But did you know that I kissed all the fish in the lake?

Well, I tried, anyway.

This guy was ready for me. Look at that come hither maw.

It's in the eyes here. Or, eye, rather.

Asking for it with those sexy spots, I say.

I mean, really, with the way they dress these days.

Just a little peck!

Whore.

 Also, Bubba took his turn making out with fish.

Full tongue on the first date? Suh-lut.

This one was not of age for kissing.

Practically begging for it.

First we fold the fish, then we kiss the fish.

Mmmmmmmmm...folded fish.

We all kissed this fish. It was the winner of the day - 19" rainbow.

And my uncle is not a fish kisser as much as he is a fish CATCHER.

LINE 1's FOR YOU, MAN!

No kissing. Only catching.

Quick march with the photo, woman! There are fish waiting for my fly!

And back into the lake with you, ya big tease.

No time to waste. In the net, photo taken, BACK INTO THE WATER STAT.

He's a mean tease, my uncle. 

That was the long swear-y way of saying that I finally got to go back out on a guided fishing trip (even made the guide's website) after the awesome one we took with the same guide outfit back in 2012 and HOO BOY was it great.

I love fishing. And catching. And hanging out on a boat all day while someone else does all the work of untangling my shitty casts (Thanks, Jerry! You're really patient and not at all giving me the hairy eyeball every time I fuck up my cast! Thanks for that. Sheesh. I'm a mess.).

Happy Father's Day again, dad. Sorry I caught all of your fish. I mean, it was a trip for me, right?