In reply to Coenwolf:
The other day my girlfriend Heather and I went climbing. I was going to attempt a nice crack climb and was already thinking of the enjoyable layback once I'd got on top.
Stop she said before I'd gone all the way. Its very slippery and you've got too many crabs - you'll get stuck.
Rubbish I said, its only a sea lice and its only on my cock salmon. Any way, I can do it with my millers thumb, it'll make a better fit. She said no, let's lie in the ling and dace at the view. Ok, I replied, but its a subspecies, grayling! Lets light up a nice roach on that perch - its better than this plaice and you can nibble my cod piece. (There was lots left as the fish shop had also given us plenty of chips.) But she'd hardly got any in her mouth when she cried, Its off, it smelts and its giving off an awful tench!. I wish she'd stop carping on about it, I thought.
By now I was feeling a bit ruffe and played with my speckled trout on my own (She said it was just a tiny minnow!). She was looking grumpy now and doing quite a bit of pouting. Oh, and how I longed just to lay peacefully on top of heather.
Lets go for another zander she suggested. So off we went, but I was tired and floundering - the prospects looked bleak. The wind was getting stronger and blowing my mullet all over. The next thing, I fell over a rock bass. Then I started to get pollan up my nose. Ruddy hell I thought, its not my day. Then I saw a octopus!! Don't be daft you stupid squid you must be hallucinating. I tripped and got a wapping barbel in my finger and suddenly remembered I'd left my tackle up the hill. Quick lets get you to hospital, she said, you'll need a good sturgeon to sort this lot out.
Boomb Boomb! .
