Acrosst the bow of the hillbillys boat

Acrrosst the bow of the hillbillys boat

Hyars a pitcher Ah taken crosst the bow of mah liddle kayak. Hits a Native brand Angler, twelv fait long. Hits a nass liddle fishin boat. The ole hillbilly aint turned oaver not even wunst. Ah had two of muh Veritas rods out that day, long with a Field & Stream rod. Field & Stream is Dick’s store brand. A feller caint see it, but Ah had put a Abu Garcia Revo SX, second generation, on the Field & Stream rod. The reel is a lot bedder than the rod, but the rod is jist fan too.

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The ole hillbilly perpairs tuh go a-fishin agin (part 1)

Muh furst poast on thish hyar blog wuz bout me a-goin down tuh fish in Lake Calhoon, hwich is jist bout a block er so fum muh howse hyar in Miniapples.

Ah didden ketch nuthin on thet fishin trip seppin a mess a skeeter bats. But the ole hillbilly aint one tuh giv up on fishin. Ennybawdy hoo nose the ole hillbilly nose thet Ah lack me sum fishin. So Ah wuz boun an ditturmind tuh ketch me sum fish outen a Lake Calhoun. An Ah wuz also bound an ditturmind not tuh git eat up bah skeeters hwalst Ah wuz a-dewin it.

Ah figgerd thet hwut the ole hillbilly naidid in hiz baddle ginst the skeeters wuz sum hevvy artillry–in pertickler, sum bug spray suh fierce thet hit’d make the skeeters drop dead jiss thankin bout it.

So Ah taken me a jug of muh speshul rokkit fule mash an pored bout a cup of it down the carbraiter of the ole fitty-two GMC flatbed. Thin Ah fard her up an droav oaver tuh the sportin goods stoar. Ah figgerd if they wuz fellers aroun hoo noad bout baddlin skeeters, hit’d be the folks at the sportin goods stoar.

Ah maid hit thar purdy kwik, an Ah didden coz but fav er sicks rex along the way. Thezhe hyar Minisodans luvs tuh tailgate, hwich haint suh good hwin yer follerin a feller in a nantain fitty-too flatbed thouten no rair meres. Ah had to stop twast tuh prah liddle biddy cars offen the diffrenshul. Hit makes a terrbull noize a-draggin em along lack thet, speshly hwin the folks in em gets to hollerin.

Fanly Ah hove up to the sportin goods stoar. Ah wint in, an thish hyar feller slads up an sez, May Ah hepp ewe, sir?

Well, Ah kummincet a-sayin, Ah wint down tuh Lake Calhoon tuther nat to dew sum fishin, an–

So did ewe ketch ennythang then? the feller axed.

Well, not iggzackly, Ah ruplad. Ah got me a mess of skeeter bats–

But doant tell me. The feller thoad out his hand lack a poeleaseman flaggin down a spader. Ewe didden ketch nuthin.

Well, they wuz a northern pack stuck hiz noze outen the wadder–

Thet’s the way thay are, the feller sed, givvin his own head a kinely sad liddle shake. Alwaze a-teasin, nevver a-battin.

Well, Ah wreckin Ah kin git him, Ah ruplad, iffen only–

The feller brattened up. Iffen only ewe had the rat bait, he see, his ahz kinely gleemin lack.

Well, Ah wuz thankin moar–

Ewe wuz thankin moar bout the hole prezentauyshun, the feller sed.

The hwut? Ah axed.

The hole prezentayshun, the feller ruplad. Hit aint jist the bait. Coarse thets himportint ez ennythang. But iffen hit aint perzentid jist rat, em air ole fish’ll jist shuv it asad, lack it offindid em.

Iffen ewe say so, but–

But a modurn, santiffick angler lack ewe, he wint on, ewe unnerstan th’importints of prezentayshun. An Ah kin hepp ewe out with thet.