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| cyclops bull shark... via chum. |
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| beastialitor? |
-Alex who will be trying to figure out how to work in a "do you want to see my one-eyed bull shark fetus?" at the bar tonight.
Showing posts with label non-fishing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label non-fishing. Show all posts
I always knew that dude from Krull was a sicko.
-Alex who will be trying to figure out how to work in a "do you want to see my one-eyed bull shark fetus?" at the bar tonight.
Top 10?
Awesome!
Due to our enjoyment of fishing, and drinking we have made the top ten best fly fishing websites for the fellas at The Daily Hunt and Fish.
As they say,
"Their fat, their fun, their a bit crude, and they love to fish. This is what blogging is all about. A few buddies not only documenting their fishing adventures but also giving us a glimpse into their strange but real life. WARNING this website is not for everybody. I will not pull up this site up with my seven year old next to me. It is a true blog you never know what they will post next."
For me I would like to note some our special talents,
Alex, amazing with the camera, video making, most of the stuff on here, dedication to catch the fish, the only one of us that is fully literate, and putting up with Kyle's shit.
Aaron, Knowing where and when to fish, ability to drink "copious" amounts of booze, producing amazing yet horribly disturbing body smells, and putting up with Kyle's shit.
And for myself, I am always ready to put my body through a new experiment for research or just for the hell of it.
And to the Fellas at Daily Hunt and Fish, thank you for helping up spread the word!
Due to our enjoyment of fishing, and drinking we have made the top ten best fly fishing websites for the fellas at The Daily Hunt and Fish.
As they say,
"Their fat, their fun, their a bit crude, and they love to fish. This is what blogging is all about. A few buddies not only documenting their fishing adventures but also giving us a glimpse into their strange but real life. WARNING this website is not for everybody. I will not pull up this site up with my seven year old next to me. It is a true blog you never know what they will post next."
For me I would like to note some our special talents,
Alex, amazing with the camera, video making, most of the stuff on here, dedication to catch the fish, the only one of us that is fully literate, and putting up with Kyle's shit.
Aaron, Knowing where and when to fish, ability to drink "copious" amounts of booze, producing amazing yet horribly disturbing body smells, and putting up with Kyle's shit.
And for myself, I am always ready to put my body through a new experiment for research or just for the hell of it.
And to the Fellas at Daily Hunt and Fish, thank you for helping up spread the word!
The hits just keep coming...
The woman behind the counter generally wouldn't give you too much shit, and that was all right.
It was a place to go. A place to stumble when you needed that last 6-pack, 40oz, can of cope, taquito or thirstbuster. A place where you knew you could make it back because it was a line-of-sight deal and no matter how hopeless you felt you could always see your way home, even if crawling tore a hole in your bag and you lost your peanut M&M's somewhere along the way.
It was the place across the street, the store, the K, or the market (if you grew up in some backward-ass place).
Whatever you called it, it's gone. Goddammit.
The second let down of the new year.
It was a place to go. A place to stumble when you needed that last 6-pack, 40oz, can of cope, taquito or thirstbuster. A place where you knew you could make it back because it was a line-of-sight deal and no matter how hopeless you felt you could always see your way home, even if crawling tore a hole in your bag and you lost your peanut M&M's somewhere along the way.
It was the place across the street, the store, the K, or the market (if you grew up in some backward-ass place).
Whatever you called it, it's gone. Goddammit.
The second let down of the new year.
the usual
I walked into the Golden Nugget and Holly seemed happy to see me. She had begun to walk out from around behind the bar as I opened the door, headed for the Scratchers vending machine but when she saw me she twisted on her heel and flowed back behind the wood and spun me a napkin. She had won $500 a few weeks ago and she can't seem to stay away from it, she said.
It is cash only and I had $10 in my pocket, plenty at the Nugg, or so it used to be.
"Holly," I said, "I got ten bucks and I need something strong." She leaned over the bar and fetched the usual. I slapped the money down as she poured the Yukon Jack into the shot glass. It was a good pour. It's always a good pour at the Nugg. As she walked to the register she paused. "Umm," she began, "it looks like they changed the prices for 2011. Yukon is now $6.50."
Six fifty? It used to be three fifty, or four, I can't remember but ten dollars used to be enough to get started, at least, and a beer back is little consolation.
The first let down of the new year.
On a better, more in-tune note, the new BloodKnot is out. Represent.
It is cash only and I had $10 in my pocket, plenty at the Nugg, or so it used to be.
"Holly," I said, "I got ten bucks and I need something strong." She leaned over the bar and fetched the usual. I slapped the money down as she poured the Yukon Jack into the shot glass. It was a good pour. It's always a good pour at the Nugg. As she walked to the register she paused. "Umm," she began, "it looks like they changed the prices for 2011. Yukon is now $6.50."
Six fifty? It used to be three fifty, or four, I can't remember but ten dollars used to be enough to get started, at least, and a beer back is little consolation.
The first let down of the new year.
On a better, more in-tune note, the new BloodKnot is out. Represent.
distracted...
Sometimes you just have to go to war in the button aisle of the local craft store, and the random fly-tying-supply-foraging be damned.
halfway there....
Okay, so here is what I want to know... after installing this sheet and letting the "activated carbon fabric" soak up all the goodness for a year, how would one go about removing the months of condensed awesomeness for a massive biological attack on Kyle?
via CHUM
the Landeen Photography blog
In doing my little part to keep the internet from running out of stuff, and partially because I am two weeks into an alcohol-free month causing restlessness and boredom, I have created the Landeen Photography blog.
I have found to my delightment (that should be a word) that over the last year or so the FGFF site has been a great way to connect and stay in touch with the fly fishing community, and even make some good friends. I can only hope that myself and others will be able to get the same enjoyment from a photography blog.
You can expect tips, tricks, stories, DIY articles, incessant rambling, and even a photograph from time to time. So head on over and say hello.
-Alex
Diagnosis: Fat
My truck is the only vehicle in the parking lot. I step out, shut the door and take a deep breath. It is a cloudy afternoon, but the blacktop leaks heat into the souls of my worn-out sneakers as I walk away from the furd and towards the medically-nondescript tan building.
The door is locked, and I put my face close to the glass, hands cupped around my eyes to cut the glare. Suddenly a very pregnant but very cute blond pops into view and I take a step back as she unlocks the bolt.
"Are you Alex?" I nod and she pushes the door the rest of the way open and I step inside. The scene is your basic medical waiting space: Pinkish-but-not-quite wall paper surrounds comfortable-but-not-quite wood and fabric furniture sprinkled with various cross-gender reading material, and a fish tank on the back wall.
I take a seat in the corner and pretend to be interested a National Geographic as I spy on the receptionist; I would guess 8 months, but she is very thin which makes it hard to tell. While I was staring and thinking about how I have been told some women have increased sex drive late in their pregnancy, she looks up from behind the counter, our eyes meet. Abort! Abort! I flip a page in the magazine and glance back up and she half smiles and tells me the doctor is back and will be with me shortly. Busted.
I am not here for any reason in particular, just a check up. But there is always that little nagging vioce deep in the back of your mind telling you that they are going to find something and your day will be totally ruined. Luckily, I am not old enough to get the lubed-finger of doom just yet.
I toss the magazine aside, and as I stare at the fish tank wondering what material would make a good fish-flake-food fly when the Doc calls me into the back.
He is a small man, and standing next to each other I can't help but think we would looks like the cover of the movie Twins, if Arnold had a gut and Danny Devito lost 60 pounds that is.
We exchange pleasantries and hows-your-mothers as we walk back into the exam room. Fifteen minutes and the standard what-have-you later the Doc is ready to lay it on me. He tosses some unintelligible paperwork on the table, adjusts his spectacles and takes a seat on the ever present rolley stool.
'Well, your blood pressure is great, and you seem to be pretty healthy but...." (here it comes) "I would like to see you lose some weight." Then he goes on to explain that walking is not really exorcise and 40oz curls don't count either, and I should cut down on the fast-food. Bummer. I told him if walking isn't doing me any good I guess I will just have to start driving to the convenience store across the street when I run out of beer. He didn't laugh.
He tells me that a monthly membership to a gym is not that much money, and explains that he loves to get up at the crack of dawn and work out and shower at the gym, and how great it is and how much money he saves on his water bill from showering there.
I tell him I think he has a fetish for showering around sweaty dudes, and he threatens me with a prostate exam. I told him to forget it, and that area is off-limits, especially to guys who like hanging around YMCA locker rooms. Plus, he may be in good shape but I got at least a benjamin on the Doc and I think I could take him.
As he walked me to the door, I look for the pregnant-hotness but she is nowhere to be found. I promise the Doc to look into some exorcise options, and head out the door toward the furd, hearing the door click locked behind me.
I close the door, turn the key and start to head home. After a few blocks I see a Sonic Drive-In, and wonderful images of onion rings and tater tots start to dance around my head. My mouth salivates, and my hand instinctively starts goes for the turn signal. But something stops me, and my hand falls back to the arm rest.
The Doc's words ring in my head, I fight to keep my foot off the break pedal. I begin to shake uncontrollably as the entrance to fried deliciousness approaches quickly. I let out a primal scream and throw the wheel to the left away from the onion rings and tots, and spin-out across 3 lanes of traffic sending women and children and pets fleeing for their lives.
The world spins as I careen over a curb and through some shrubbery as fast food wrappers and empty water bottles fly like crazed bats around my head. The vehicle comes to a screeching halt, and I lift my head and slowly look around.
I am in a parking lot, no not the lot itself, but a strange curved little roadway to one side of the it. I hear a strange voice outside the car asking me something. Asking what they can get for me today? What the hell is going on? I roll down the window and staring right back at me is a glowing menu of the Jack in the Box variety. The woman repeats the question, as I dumbly stare at the little speaker.
Nothing, I want nothing you evil temptress! But my mouth betrays me! "Uh.... I will take a number 4, I guess."
"And to drink?"
Nothing to drink either you dummy! My brain screams at my rumbling stomach. "Uh, a Sprite.... large"
Fail.
-Alex who swears he doesn't have a "thing" for pregnant chicks, unless they have cheeseburgers.
The door is locked, and I put my face close to the glass, hands cupped around my eyes to cut the glare. Suddenly a very pregnant but very cute blond pops into view and I take a step back as she unlocks the bolt.
"Are you Alex?" I nod and she pushes the door the rest of the way open and I step inside. The scene is your basic medical waiting space: Pinkish-but-not-quite wall paper surrounds comfortable-but-not-quite wood and fabric furniture sprinkled with various cross-gender reading material, and a fish tank on the back wall.
I take a seat in the corner and pretend to be interested a National Geographic as I spy on the receptionist; I would guess 8 months, but she is very thin which makes it hard to tell. While I was staring and thinking about how I have been told some women have increased sex drive late in their pregnancy, she looks up from behind the counter, our eyes meet. Abort! Abort! I flip a page in the magazine and glance back up and she half smiles and tells me the doctor is back and will be with me shortly. Busted.
I am not here for any reason in particular, just a check up. But there is always that little nagging vioce deep in the back of your mind telling you that they are going to find something and your day will be totally ruined. Luckily, I am not old enough to get the lubed-finger of doom just yet.
I toss the magazine aside, and as I stare at the fish tank wondering what material would make a good fish-flake-food fly when the Doc calls me into the back.
He is a small man, and standing next to each other I can't help but think we would looks like the cover of the movie Twins, if Arnold had a gut and Danny Devito lost 60 pounds that is.
We exchange pleasantries and hows-your-mothers as we walk back into the exam room. Fifteen minutes and the standard what-have-you later the Doc is ready to lay it on me. He tosses some unintelligible paperwork on the table, adjusts his spectacles and takes a seat on the ever present rolley stool.
'Well, your blood pressure is great, and you seem to be pretty healthy but...." (here it comes) "I would like to see you lose some weight." Then he goes on to explain that walking is not really exorcise and 40oz curls don't count either, and I should cut down on the fast-food. Bummer. I told him if walking isn't doing me any good I guess I will just have to start driving to the convenience store across the street when I run out of beer. He didn't laugh.
He tells me that a monthly membership to a gym is not that much money, and explains that he loves to get up at the crack of dawn and work out and shower at the gym, and how great it is and how much money he saves on his water bill from showering there.
I tell him I think he has a fetish for showering around sweaty dudes, and he threatens me with a prostate exam. I told him to forget it, and that area is off-limits, especially to guys who like hanging around YMCA locker rooms. Plus, he may be in good shape but I got at least a benjamin on the Doc and I think I could take him.
As he walked me to the door, I look for the pregnant-hotness but she is nowhere to be found. I promise the Doc to look into some exorcise options, and head out the door toward the furd, hearing the door click locked behind me.
I close the door, turn the key and start to head home. After a few blocks I see a Sonic Drive-In, and wonderful images of onion rings and tater tots start to dance around my head. My mouth salivates, and my hand instinctively starts goes for the turn signal. But something stops me, and my hand falls back to the arm rest.
The Doc's words ring in my head, I fight to keep my foot off the break pedal. I begin to shake uncontrollably as the entrance to fried deliciousness approaches quickly. I let out a primal scream and throw the wheel to the left away from the onion rings and tots, and spin-out across 3 lanes of traffic sending women and children and pets fleeing for their lives.
The world spins as I careen over a curb and through some shrubbery as fast food wrappers and empty water bottles fly like crazed bats around my head. The vehicle comes to a screeching halt, and I lift my head and slowly look around.
I am in a parking lot, no not the lot itself, but a strange curved little roadway to one side of the it. I hear a strange voice outside the car asking me something. Asking what they can get for me today? What the hell is going on? I roll down the window and staring right back at me is a glowing menu of the Jack in the Box variety. The woman repeats the question, as I dumbly stare at the little speaker.
Nothing, I want nothing you evil temptress! But my mouth betrays me! "Uh.... I will take a number 4, I guess."
"And to drink?"
Nothing to drink either you dummy! My brain screams at my rumbling stomach. "Uh, a Sprite.... large"
Fail.
-Alex who swears he doesn't have a "thing" for pregnant chicks, unless they have cheeseburgers.