It was a typically chilly Texan 104* and I looked at Blue Climate Change panting in his fur coat, "Perhaps it's time to go fishing, Gar like the heat."
The dog said nothing, he regards my Gar obsession as foolish. All he's after is a better argument for Sola Scriptura (sorry, dog, fail) and against what he calls "the Abomination of Desolation!"
Inner Light
No, I tell him. Having a statue of the Blessed Ever Virgin Mary in your church is not a sin against the Holy Spirit or any other kind of idolatry. He refuses to listen and wanders off in search of fried pies.
So much for the dog. I went in search of space and found Gar, lots of them, but only closed the deal on two, along with one miscreant Black Drum and a couple of opportunistic Bluegill.
Beat The Drum
The Gar, furiously, bit through the line as they were being hauled up to the pier for a photo op.
Maybe a steel leader is in order.
Beat the Jihad and Build the Wall,
LSP
