This site is a testament to not only my life but to the insanity of society. Dive into Psycho Carnival and you'll find tragicomic personal stories, wild yet honest rants, a little depravity, videos and a buttload of other goodies.

This site also contains adult like humor and ideas that could make you think. Consider yourself warned!

Monday, May 19, 2008

Pack Rat Fishing Master

Surrounded by heaps of books, rubber bands, fishing gear, compact discs, old baseball cards, toilet paper and all things manly, I am writing this post. Hell, and I've mentioned just a few things in this little room I affectionately call the "computer room". It should be called the "Heaps O' Infinite Shit Room".

My wife threatens to throw it all out the door, at least once a week. My response is, "Yeah, but I need all this stuff". That doesn't even earn a laugh from her anymore, just the usual look of disgust. I'm a huge procrastinator. I'm consistently telling myself I'll clean this little room out but I can't seem to lift my ass up to get it done. There are some things in here, I actually DO need. Well. the toilet paper, for one. I think the wife would agree with me on that one. After all, I can't pick up one of my hairy cats and use them. That particular action could cause them a wee bit of stress. Not only that, but one of them might get a bit testy with the deed and hook a claw in my tender buttocks or scrotum.

Then I would not be a happy camper.

Since I mentioned fishing gear, I would like to mention I've been getting lucky with the fish, as of late. And when I say "lucky", I don't mean I've been getting into their pants. Not that I believe fish wear pants. Uh.... let's move on. Anyway, on my first fishing trip this year, I caught 12 large mouth bass. On the second trip, I proved myself to be an even bigger manly man by catching 13. This last time, however, I was only able to subdue, hook and snare eight of them.

The sun was in my eyes. You know.

My friend caught this whale of a catfish. It was around two and a half feet long. That's right. I'm American. I'm too good for the metric system. So there! Anyway, this monster had a belly on him. Later, the audience that came later, were witnesses to what was in that belly and part of it looked like shiny, grey silly putty. There was some green gravy and blood coming out of it's guts, too. My sister was the one who pounded the big nail through it's head on the board, then skinned and filleted him. I came over at one point, during the flesh carving and saw something curious. I pointed at this white, apple sized sac inside the catfish and asked, "What the hell is that?" She replied, "I don't really know." "Poke it!", I shouted, with childlike glee.

And so she did. And we heard a faint whoosh come out of it. The white sac deflated. It was the lungs. Mystery solved.

I wish there were some moral to this tale to tell but there isn't. I just thought it was kinda cool.
You know. How it went whoosh.


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