Wednesday, December 12

Your granddad's weird shit: Thompson Wing Former.

Not pictured: Sea King.
I don't know where I saw this thing first (actually, not true, but I'm not giving them the traffic), but I knew upon seeing it, I wanted it.

I love your old school wet flies. I bought Bergman's trout strictly to have access to plates upon plates of painted wet flies I knew I'd never actually be bothered to tie, and I enjoy trying to tie them. I also have a hard-on for stupid gadgets, so a press that would shit out perfectly formed quill slips?

Fuck yeah, Sea King.

And with that, I started on a quest for a D.H. Thompson Wing Former, so, I enlisted the help of fellow forum degenerates, and within a few weeks I had one winging its way to my door.

Wednesday, December 5

Flies of our Fathers

The "Hardhead." It looks "fishy." Don't you hate people who say that shit?
This is a delightful post about bullshit fly tying, an activity that should be confined to the winter when its generally too shitty to go outside, but if you want to go outside, lemme mention an "event" that a friend of mine, who does not have an ugly American flag coat, likes to have this thing he terms the "Eastern PA Flyfishing Tying [Event]." That's not actually what he calls it, but unless you're versed in idiocy, "jam" makes it sound gay.

And not the good sort of life-of-the-party, occasionally catty, usually well dressed fun to be around happy gay but the seedy van-in-a-parking-lot creepy gay that no one wants to think about.

Anyways, he's doing this for the second year and its mostly a byproduct of a "local" forum getting together and shit. Not unlike that flag jacket guy thing, there'll be lots of assholes tying shit, but its not a trade show or a sell shit event, the format is geared towards the idea that a newbie will show up and learn, even though its basically a bunch of guys from said forum sitting around in a room. Y'know, tying flies. And shit. FWIW, its nice to put a face to your Internet nemesis once in awhile.  Read more, if you want (or not, that's the same link as before), or fuck off... Y'know, whatever.

Anyways, Awhile back, I was killing time in a used bookstore when I came across  a copy of Taking Larger Trout (pub 1950) by Larry Koller for $2.

Being a fan of old shit, and books with meticulously hand drawn colour plates (can someone explain the difference between a plate and a picture, besides classiness of term?), I bought it and promptly stuck it on a shelf and forgot about it.

This weekend, I found a really striking, and forgotten, fly in the back pages of it, the Hardhead.

A fly so striking I was immediately taken by it, and promptly tied, the shimmering swords and contrast in body materials came across immediately in print, that even if I never catch anything on it, I had to at least take an interest in making it.

Wednesday, November 28

Marc Petitjean wunderbobbin: You want how much for this nonsense? Eff you, Swedish Dude. Eff. You.

(please note "eff you" as a stand in for "fuck you" in the title, that's my little acknowledgement that the shit I spew ends up in many others' feeds)

And now, part 2 of a two part series of shit I'd never fucking bother with if it wasn't dirt cheap, or free, the Marc Petitjean Magic Bobbin. Shit? Maybe its just Marc Petitjean Bobbin? There's a Magic Tool, right, so is this shit magic or not? Well, definatly not, but is it suggested that its magical? I just checked the Official Site, it's MP-TT Bobbin. WTF does that even mean?

Magical? Uhm... You know what its not? Cheap. Not by a long shot. Said official site suggests its $63 in proper American cash. Sixty-three!

Yeah, you're goddamned right I didn't spend that much. Shit, even at list price (thank you very much), I agonized over dropping the coin, but knew I'd be able to sell it for what I paid if I didn't like it.

So, what do you get for $63?
  1. Built-in tensioner.
  2. Quick threading capability.
  3. Built in dubbing loop hook thingy.
  4. Pettyjean Inc claims, "perfectly balanced." Sure. OK.
  5. Smug sense of look at my bobbin, my bobbin is amazing..?
Is it worth it?

Wednesday, November 21

What's Cortland suggesting..?

Couple years back, I bought some shitty ass China cane on megaclearance from Cabela's. One of the guys in the Fly Cave (am I making that up, or is it actually referred to as a Cave?) said that Cortland Sylk was the bee's knees for those sorts of rods.

He's right. With a lone "speciality" application, my last four fly line purchases have all been Cortland 444 Sylk DTs. Each one's been fished hard they've all lasted really well, with only one complaint (they crack at the whipped loop every single time, wish they'd do a welded loop).

All, except my last one which cracked and fell apart for about 3' straight, generally about where I figure eight retrieve. And after maybe six months.

So, I complained, and Cortland very quickly, and nicely, sent me a replacement line and didn't ask for the old one back (dual taper, I'm just gonna flip that shit around and fish the other end before I put the new one on). Who can possibly complain about their customer service? It was awesome.

What confuses me though was the use of a German newspaper to pad the box.

The sex classified section, none the less.

(update: oh, shit, they did a welded loop, i guess if i wasn't baffled by the packaging i'd have noticed that, go cortland! bet it snaps off in a month)

Sunday, November 11

Tales of Adventure.

I'm aware its the banner, now. But it won't be 
some day, now will it?
Every so often I wonder what the point of doing this nonsense is, until I'm relating some sort of rambling story to someone and I think, "oh, that's why."

See, I'm vain enough to figure someone finds it interesting. Probably because its not happening to them.

This is one of those stories.

I fished a section of local stream recently, and I fished it at its lowest possible section, the confluence with our big boy river, I'm on this wet fly thing, and so I'd swung my shit down and across 'til there was no more down to across.

Well, shit. I mean, I'm here, I might as well fish big river, right? It'd be a nice end to the day to pick up a smallie or something.

I look through my box, and the only streamer I have is a ratty old Mickey Finn. Fuck, make it worse, a super shitty job I bought from Walmart 7+ years ago when I first got started. But, y'know, run whatcha brung, and it was either that or a cast of size 14 wets.

So, tie it on and begin a few half hearted casts, being the stupidest thing I've tried to do all day thus far and aware that it was an exercise in futility.

I didn't just get a tug, I got a massive boil, and a the rod doubled down.

 I set the hook.

Wednesday, November 7

Overpriced shit that I'd never buy even though it works.

This post has very little to do with
this. Also, CDC sucks. Except here.  
Totally part of a series of two, which isn't much of a series, but whatever. My shit.

So, here's the deal, I think CDC is fucking stupid. Its a panacea, a magic bullet, and I'm entirely sick of it. Matter of fact, despite the fact that I have absolute bags of the shit, I've never bothered to use it.

Until recently. A friend showed me his stupid simple generic tie, which uses a few fibers in a loop wing. Suddenly, I have use for bags of CDC, and I can make one feather last for multiple flies, so, like, fuck your face corpse of Rene Harroup for controlling the world market on CDC.

OK, so maybe he's not, or wasn't, or from beyond the grave. Whatever.

Point is, along with that shit comes a whole host of overpriced toys and shit. One of them I bought, one of them I was gifted coz a friend knows a friend who may or may not get high with a dude who sells this shit.

Its good to be in the network.

And with that, I present to you my thoughts on the disguistingly overpriced Marc Petitjean amadou patch.

In short: Holy shit, it works.

But, that doesn't make words people read, so I suppose I have to go into more detail.

Monday, July 30

dear asshole dog owners

This shows up when you search "asshole dog." -shrug-
Oh, I know what you're thinking, "some arrogant fishing asshole is gonna cry about us letting our majestic canines play in their stream, well fuck those cock-men-oppressors, we're gonna let Fluffy do whatever he wants, all that guy is doing is torturing fish."

You're wrong, actually. I'm not torturing fish, I can't because your asshole dog is gleefully being an asshole in my vicinity.

Look, its a public stream, and I get that, y'know? I mean, you and your stupid dog (which is technically off leash and thus violating some sort of law that you shouldn't violate because its causing you to piss me off) have the same rights that I do to go all about my day traipsing through the fucking underbrush and into the water, but maybe, just fucking maybe, you can try to respect my shit?

Its not that I walk up and try to sting your pet's ass with a fly, he can't help it that its owner is an ignorant asshole.

And while we're on the subject of assholes who let their dogs in my stream (yes, I said that), I'd like to point out common courtesy that some people at least try to do, but get wrong.

When you let your dog go rushing in and you turn the bend and, oh shit! there's a duder fishing, its cool you call your dog back. I mean, how the hell should you know I'm all lurking in the fucking shrubbery and shit? I like that you try to be respectful and make your monster back off, but just so you know, 30' upstream from me isn't a valid place to let the fucker romp back in.

How 'bout past the next bend?


Sunday, July 22

In the land of the one armed fly fisher, the automatic reel is king.

I get looks from some people when I say my favourite reel is an automatic, I've been known to quip that "its not your grandfather's automatic."

I bought a Franco Vivarelli Goldstar semi-automatic reel a few years back, mostly because it was cheap and entirely bizarre.

Most automatic reels are chunky spring fired affairs which are reknowned to suck ass. The Intertubes is filled with stories of destroyed rods and impaled troot seem to pretty much go hand in hand with people bitching about the classic automatic reel.

The semi-automatic doesn't work the same way, when there's resistance, they stop. Its actually pretty fucking brilliant. I bought one because it was cheap, and because I like weird shit...the thing is, it turns out it'll pretty much ruin you on any other reel. Christ, last time I took out a regular reel, my hand got tired cranking it in every time I moved.

So, the ultimate goal is to get more of these things because it turns out they're fucking awesome. Matter of fact, once you start using one, you can't really go back, certainly not for the kind of fishing I generally do where I know I'm not going to find a fish I can't line by hand.

The downside is at $560 per reel means I'll never own another. There's only a couple manufacturers of these things, all of them European, and all of them almost as expensive, unless you want the shitty kind of automatic reel (and I've considered them), you're shit out of luck.

Then I discovered that you could buy semi-autos on the eBays for under $20. Turns out these fancy European things are not original designs, but classics. The goal was set, and it turns out I had ended up buying your grandfather's automatic reel. Shot that whole fucking line to hell, eh?

Thursday, July 5

Further adventures in rod building.

I completed the first one after what seemed like forever (it was actually like 8 months, mostly spent not ordering a single piece), and I figured I'd leap right into the Project 2, as everyone says "do a cheap one first."

Evidently, I'm doing two cheap ones first, as Project 2 can now be Project 3, or I can complete Project 3 before Project 2, or, I dunno.

What the fuck am I even saying?

Let's put it this way, the short of it is I'm doing another cheap rod. I mean, someone offers up a "rust brown" (which to my eyes is carroty diarrhea brown, really) for $22, who am I to pass it up? Especially when its a fiberglass 1/2 wt rod.

This, combined with a friend handing me a box of free winding thread means its a given.  Mostly because the colours of thread are all pretty out there, so how am I not going to use them?

So, with a box of pieces on order, its time to look at some wraps. With all luck, this one won't take as long.

Thursday, June 21

Internet fishing forums are generally for assholes.

Line cleaning is a very important topic on FF'ing forums.
You the sort of guy who goes on fishing trips and actually talks about fishing?

Like to trade the awesome new secrets of Liechtenstein style nymphing with like minded, pro-spec and ultra serious fishermen?

Not into strippers?

Don't go here. If, however, a "fishing trip" is an excuse to enter into a multi-day bender without offending your loved ones (excepting those moments where bail bonds may be involved). If you're basically tired of fishing forums having to do with actual fishing and not just being random and stupid discussions with people who fish. If you want to discuss, vocally and with as much colourful fucking language as you can possibly jam into a post, the merits of ketchup-based sauces on meatloaf while maintaining a side bar as to why snowshoe is better than CDC, sweet holy Mother of Fuck, do I have a place for you. Click the forums link across the top. Make an account. Log in. Post bullshit. Enjoy like minded assholes. Its an Interwebs forum for people who fish, but not really about fishing. Un-like minded assholes need not apply, and you will likely be chased off for sucking. There's places for you, instead.

Sunday, May 27

Any idiot can make a fly rod.

I may, in fact, be a giant.
Proof? I did.

And all things considered (bourbon), it went pretty well.

God knows it took long enough, mostly due to laziness and a hatred of shipping charges, but with the "practice" rod out of the way, we can concentrate on doing a good one.

I picked up a Cabela's kit and a Garcia Conolon 2070 Lee Wulff blank, a 6' one piece with recommended line weights listed anywhere from 5 to 7. 

So far, I've tried it with an Air Cel 6WFF, and its goddamned sweet.

Monday, May 14

This is a stupid hobby.

There's a story with that.
Last year, it was all about the Usual. Shit, I blarged it and everything.

This year, I can't buy a fucking bite with it. At least not the sulphur variant. The grey fox or whatever version worked like gangbusters, but no bueno this year.

So, it was time to figure shit out. In so much as I decry assholes who speak Latin, there's a time and a place to have a vague idea of what's going on, and since it affected me, now was that time and place. Fortunatly, I had said vague clue, and I knew that sulphurs supposedly languished in emerger stage for a bit, and thus emergers will be effective.

So, a sulphur emerger pattern.

Googlating shit up turns up a few basic themes, and countless variants of them, both wet and dry. So there's a starting point, then it was just applying a little of what I've figured out to make it effective and interesting and "mine."

Now I can give it some sort of bullshit name and claim I invented it despite the fact that some greybeard has been fishing this exact same thing for the last 40 years and never thought it needed a name when "my sulphur emerger" was plenty fuckin' effective, and why waste letters there's war going on and we don't want Hitler to win.

Sunday, May 13

Further thoughts on the Heritage Fly Shop, and shit. Mostly the former...

Its pretty fascinating the amount of hits I actually get for the Heritage Fly Shop. Good that people are looking for something about it, bad that my shit is polluting their minds. So, to try and not be a complete dick I guess I should make it quick to say the following helpful things:

One, there's no website. There's a Facebook page. Someday the universe will figure out that Facebook is out to fuck them and stop using it, but free is free and I get it.

Two, the contact information is on their Facebook page. For those of you who don't use Facebook, because you've figured out they're out to fuck you and stopped using it, I'll reprint the information below:

Heritage Fly Shop2643 Fish Hatchery RoadAllentown, PA 18103610-248-8836
Monday and Thursdays by appointment. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Friday through Sunday 9 to 2.
Three, you guys should totally buy something from the guy because he's just that nice, and while he doesn't have alot of high end shit (why bother, its a small storefront), he does everything you need on the stream (sundries, flies, etc) and what you'd want to tie your own when you got home. He also seems to have a steady assortment of really cool old custom rods that keep showing up. This is not the way to please me as I cannot afford them. Perhaps you can.

If you think he's giving me something, he's not. It would be nice, but I assure you no one actually wants my help. I'm just that motivated to pitch in.

Oh, and if you're wondering about Lehigh Valley sulphurs, the answer is "yes." More on that tomorrow. Or tonight. Or never. I am astoundingly lazy.

Sunday, April 29

On Sulphurs, the Lehigh Valley, its fly shops, and the Heritage Fly Shop.

C'mon, that bitch is charming, and you know it.
According to the US Census, the Allentown-Bethlehem-Easton-PA-NJ-Metroplex, aka Lehigh Valley, is the third most populated area in all of Pennsylvania... so why the hell can't we have a big ole fly shop without driving to goddamned Reading?

Oh well, at least we have the Heritage Fly Shop, formerly the Little Lehigh Fly Shop.

That's not really a fair assessment. To say, in the past, "at least there's the LLFS" was a fair statement, because the former proprietier was, for all intents and purposes, a raging cockhole. That's probably part of why its not his shop, but someone else's, now.

Don't get me wrong, Dave (the new guy) has the same floor space and general supplies the old shop did, but he brings a much better atttitude about the place...and frankly, that matters. Alot. I will go out of my way to buy what I can at the LLFS rather than bulk up a mail order for sundries elsewhere, because you want to support the local guy, and especially the local guy who's not a raging asshole.

So, this part of the post, Dave, is dedicated to you for not being an asshole, and for being not only the sole fly shop of the Lehigh Valley, but the one with the most character. While my meager purchases probably don't make much of a dent, I'll continue to give them to you because you smile at me and greet me when I come through the door, and that means a whole lot.

Dave sold me a Fenwick, gave me some tips on using woodchuck fur, and generally is a good guy. I wanted to give him free publicity. Go buy something from him. 

Now, if I hear one more asshole tell me they're fishing sulphurs I will fucking murder someone.

Tuesday, April 3

there was a point to this but FYF i stopped caring somewhere long before I ate the pie so just read words words words

Hare's Earses. A variety, even.
I look at the bins upon bins of shit I bought to tie flies with, and I realize I could get by with the following:
One grizzly cape.
An assortment of snowshoe rabbits' feet.
A bag of peacock herl.
A partridge skin.
A hare's mask would be nice, but I seem to be making due with a rabbit skin coz it was only like $5 at the craft shop.

What the hell else does one need? Fine, maybe a pheasant tail, and calf tail for the Royal MF Wulff (I could use snowshoe, I mean...).

But, yet, bins upon of shit.

Nymphs. I tie one religiously, and one because I think it works better yet I never tie them on as to not ruin the magic. Let's deal with the one I tie religiously because, well, its awesome shit. Its the gold ribbed hare's ear. and you fish that bitch anyway you want and it goddamned catches fish.

You also tie it three ways. Wherein upon completiton, its all about how to fish wet flies versus nymphs from a guy who does neitehr well, but loves one and hates the other. And whatever. I can sum that up in like three groups of words.

Monday, April 2

Welcome to Open Season. (see, its funny coz I used that title a year ago)

Sure looks regal, eh? Has no bearing on this post.
Fuckin eh, new year. Well. Open season and shit.

Christ, almighty I hate the four fucking weeks I have to endure "closed season" each year. Because, inevitably, it will contain awesome weather, time where I'm free, and...err, restrictions to the same two fucking miles on each stream segment as the rest of a fucking population of assholes.

Including super fucking self important internet nymphing superstars who will loudly splash into the stream less than 20' away from you, and just upstream of the pool that's frankly, filled with eager and happy fish under faster water so they're particularly stupid, that you were about to get into as soon as you went under the bridge (that's approximately 20' wide, if you see where I'm going here).

All the while shouting to his buddy how its is favourite spot to fish.

I won't mention the stories about watching you manhandle a fucking 12" fish for 3 minutes while your pal ran to teh car and got the camera, either. I suspect its douchebaggery such as this that has you out of the already douchey competitive fishing scene, eh, pro-spec?

Thursday, March 22

Why not keep buying shit when you're poor? Rad reels, done dirt cheap. And. Well, other shit. Because I spent money. Fuck me this is a long title, eh?

Let's just start off with something. I like shit that clicks. The clickier the better. Ergo, I like clicky reels. When they've got pawls instead of space age material drags, then they're old school and I'm even more into them.

Turns out a friend calls reels like that rattlesnakes. That's a fantastic term. Bank it.

So, anyways, clicky shit. I dig it. I don't, however, have the sort of cash for a Hardy Princess or other small, light clicky reel. Classics bore me, although until recently an Ocean City 35 was my small 3wt reel.

Until recently. Meet the LL Bean Pocket Water. Its awesome shit, and its under $80.

Tuesday, March 13

"What flies do I pick?" bullshit reposted coz I'm lazy like that.

A paraphrased streamside discussion over one lunch break:

"I just have one question for you..."
"What's that," I responded far less irritated than I would for most newbies.
"What flies do you use...?"

I told him to come here and hunt up the old post I made about beginner flies.

I'm just making this lame-ass self-reblogging to bump it up top for the year, and because I can. Mostly because I can. Suck it, its my blog and you can make your own if you don't like it.

If you're desperate for more insect knowledge, grab a copy of Charlie Meck's "Pocketguide to Pennsylvania Hatches" or whatever its called. Its small, and its handy and you'll soon reach a point where you too can say, "its brownish, and its about this, this fly'll do." Or you'll speak Latin at other assholes who need more useful things to occupy their minds. Whatever.

Thursday, March 1

An ode to the Comficient grip.

I generally hate Craigslist. Its filled with assholes who think their shit is worth gold, or if you're selling, that your gold (or at least gold-washed  nickle) is worth shit. Hell, someone once offered me their "artwork" in lieu of my requested $900 for an iMac G5. Dick.

Sometimes, though, it pays off. Like the old man selling a handful of bamboo fly rods, including a Hardy Fairy, for pennies. Fuck yeah, I bought that Hardy.

I bought it as an "investment," but whatever, fish it sometimes, too. However, I wanted to buy another rod that I could use to fish the shit out of, without concern for its long term condition, in fact I bought it to "beat into submission," based on the way cane nerds talk about their shit.

At the time, I looked at the guys selection of other rods and decided I'd make an offer on a second one. I had it down between a Montague and a South Bend, and the choice was easy: The South Bend.

Why? Because it had the coolest grip I'd ever held.

The "Comficient." Comfortable. Efficient. -Oreno? 

Fuck yeah.

Tuesday, February 28

At what point is it excessive?

No, its not a green drake. Its one centimeter, not an inch.
Just because you can probably doesn't mean you need to, right? Subtitled, "where'd I put those size 28 hooks?"

I'm no great tier, but holy shit, extended bodies from furled antron is some easy bake action. Its total fucking open season on extended body BWOs and midges and shit....if a size 20 is this easy with plastic canvas yarn fake antron, what about floss?  Granted, I need to think about moving the wings further back down the body since, well, most of the body is off the ass end of the hook, but whatever..this would probably make sense with short shank hooks, right?


Don't care. Bought a copy of Tying Furled Bodies Flies by Ken Hanley for like $2 at Ollies because I could. I'm gonna fucking rape some caddis larva ties with this shit.

Saturday, February 25

The greatest gift of all, its bigger than Jesus.

I meant for this to be the official one year happy anniversary sort of shit, and well, didn't happen.

Oh fuck yes.

This is, arguably, a fishing blog. Somehow, I've had more discussion in a week on a post about moustaches  than ever before, which is amazing to me. That post, however, started out as a fishing post.

This one doesn't.

I may or may not have been in an altered mood when I had a vision... a vision of a sandwich as handsome and powerful as any ever imagined before. It combined several basic ingredients, but did so in a way that made me feel I was onto something good.

Not that this is all mine, I actually owe the genesis of it to my father, a man who for years has epoused the power of peanut butter toast. That is whole wheat bread (healthy fucking assjacks) and creamy peanut butter. The official recipe called for Shoprite brand, IIRC, but I suppose any type of creamy should be.

The basic inspiration of PB toast is that the toast melts the peanut butter into the pores of the bread.

Simple, right? Right.

Turn the key; unlock the One True Sandwich.

Thursday, February 23

fishing or suicide. fishing seems easier.

To say that I'd like to not be at work right now barely scratches the surface of my thoughts. 

If I'm lucky, the universe will coincide nicely between the moment between meetings with people I don't care about discussing problems I don't want to care about with an hour long sojourn to the local park where a rising cloud of blue winged olives I do care about will be imitated nicely on a fly rod I thought I didn't care about upon which it turns out that I do. 

This is why at 2:38am I was tying four tiny little flies with the first scraps I could find on my desk. There are many things I should be devoting time to. All of these things I do are not among them.

This is a problem. However, I'll continue to put it off one hour at a time.

Tuesday, February 21

a year.

started because i was irritated with old people. shit, updated this almost weekly for awhile on a quest for free shit which never really panned out. got sick. flirted with death. rebounded. trying to understand fishing without smoking...

let's break for that one.

seriously. you ever notice how fucking boring this bullshit hobby is? fuck my face, part of its joy was sitting on a log smoking a pipe and waiting for shit to happen.

denied. fuck you cancer.

...anyways. whatever. been a year. and change. fuckin eh.

spring. occasional fishing. thinking about completing a rod. thinking about starting the new rod. looking at the new shit then picking up 1930's finest. south bend assures me that in 1939, this fly rod was in fact "dry fly action." i'm pretty sure they lied. wishing like fuck i could smoke on the water. barely updating as not really understanding a need. if it wasn't so much work, i'd fish a silk line.

jasper thread wraps sure are pretty.

Thursday, February 9

crap review

Let's start with a book review, I've been meaning to do this a long, long time now and never did. Afterwards, it segues (this is a lie, it doesn't) into some nonsense I hammered into keyboards after a particularly stupid thing was written on the innerwebs (unheard of, I know!) and when I was trying to figure out why a 5wt rod I owned was horribly underwhelming with a new line. They all tie together, in a way, so run with it. Let's go, eh?

It was almost a throw away book, something someone suggested and I bought, used, for a penny on Amazon. It turned out to be the single most fascinating book about fly fishing I ever bought.

Serious Flyfishing with Survey Results by John Waite. It appears to be a self published treatise on the state of the fly fishing industry in 1998. It certainly is the work of a fellow curmudgeon and crank, though.

John's opinionated, and not afraid to share his feelings on the state of the "elite fly fishing industry." Shit, some of the things he says (and the way he relates them) are downright conspiracy minded batshit crazy level rants, but at the same time, the dude's just fuckin' right.

Tuesday, February 7

me me me me me me me me, repeat ad nauseum.

"Dude, why are you not posticating at"
Got banned.
Being a dickhead. 
Well, what, you know its true. I ain't mad, baby, Ike still loves me.
"So, like, can you come back?"
Yeah, although dunno how long it'll last. I am a dickhead. Its better this way. Besides, I made my own forum where I'm free to reign terror on anyone I don't like.
"Can I have the URL?"

So, there you have it. The rumours of my demise are greatly exaggerated. And, frankly, they're not exaggerated enough. C'mon, prison, cancer, multistate crime spree, eaten by many fucking options, and people are posting up whereabouts when they spot me on niche boards? Fuck, does that mean I'm spot burned? Not that I'm not flattered and all to be this interesting to people, but isn't there something more pressing to discuss? Mountain lions, line cleansing protips, the 8'6" 5wt fucking rod of your fucking dreams, or perhaps something interesting like tentkara? I hear its very awesome, all fucking Zen and fucking simplicity and fucking leet as fuck and shit. No reels. That's very different, amirite? That's what makes the difference betwixt a hackneyed fucking cretin and a Zen fucking Monk, fly reel. HOLY FUCK MR MIYAGI WAS A SPIN FISHERMAN!

Well, shit, that just dashed all that shit to the ground. Guess we know what constitutes Zen fucking awesome now, tenkarites... bust out the Zebco, fuckers, its on like Donkey Kong.

Anyways, back to important shit. Me, and my central importance to your universe. I am, btw, going to assume that I'm the hub of your online existance coz I'm a fcukign raging egomaniac like thatthis. See, reference this shit? An entire post about how awesome I am. Fuck yeah, Seaking. 

Monday, January 30

wah tenkara wah

tenkara aficionados try salt water fishing
"whine whine lefty whine show whine whine wah tenkara wah wah whine"

did i sum it up? holy fuck, who cares? if you're against it, no one cares run on with your superiority because you can manipulate line length. if you're against it, no one cares run on with your simplicity spiel.

but here's a hint for the pro-tenkara camp: you'll continue to be a fad/novelty/other derogatory comment for the foreseeable future. because no one here knows about you and doesn't care. four years of sales in america doesn't really mean anything.

however, the more you whine abotu all the bullshit you whine about, the more the rest of the established people will hate you. silently stew in tenkara forums if you must about how people don't get it but please don't try to reign over the rest of us because we don't care.

Saturday, January 28

Rod building: a new way to throw away money. (updated 1/30)

Y'know, I meant to do this thing, like, where I rant about shit like dumb shit... I sort of alluded to it last time, and I had this awesome anger about line weights, tapers, the AFTMA and how stupid the modern fly fishing industry is...but, whatever. I shot my load on local forums. I've been thinking about throwing it together, but I've yet to do so. Its filled with ranting, vulgarity, and stupid hyperbole and I'm quite impressed with the run away train of thought but you may never see it, eh? Sucks for you. Or, well, maybe not.

Monocacy TU is back in action with their short run of presentations, and held their first presentation. I think we shot our expenditure load on getting a local Poconos guy, Don Baylor, to come down and do a presentation on the history of fly fishing in the Poconos, which mostly centered around the Brodhead. It was a good time. You should've gone. I did.

Saturday, January 7


My neighbours don't get me.
I haven't done shit lately. Haven't felt like it. Cold. Sickly. Not right. Fucking holidays. I hate the fucking holidays. Man, do I hate the fucking holidays. They're over. It was like fitty degrees today. I felt I should go fishing.

And I did... I didn't want to. I wanted to stay home and blast Battlefield 3 nonsense on a reconstituted 5.1 system (scrounged an old receiver from a friend). But, like 55 degrees. No family. No holidays (fucking holidays!), and it turns out the water was flowing at a perfect 118cfs.

So, I gathered some crap and hit the water. It was nice to get out, enjoy it for the first time in what seems to have been years but had only been a couple months. Reminded me that nymphing is every bit as boring as I say it is, and also reminded me of why the modern fly fishing industry sucks ass, and we'll go into that next week.

What we did do is prove a theory I've heard before, and recently saw blogged at another site: Cheap screws work just fine for boot studs.