"I know," I thought cleverly to myself, "I'll go fishing." And that was the plan for Monday morning, but it nearly got derailed because of a church PO Box and taking care of business.
Load up your rig with beer and tacos and head for glory.
Still, got to the lake and cast off with worms and a couple of lures, but the fishing was slow. Sure, a couple of bites here and there but nothing much. I blame that on the malfeasant, demonic static unleashed by Fienstein and her cohort of satanists on the world. It confuses the fish.
Look what the FBI caught!
The hideous Golem representative from California and her puppet aside, I managed to catch a decent Bluegill and had a couple of strikes with topwater. Some kind of Rapala lure, I think.
Then it was time to head home, happily tired out by clambering around the rocks of Soldier's Bluff in search of fish. Next step?
Blue SCOTUS
GUNS, and horses. This is important.
Your Pal,
LSP