Brian Sucks at Fishing

So every year I go up to Cold Spring, MN, play in a baseball tournament, get butt raped by the home town umpires, and stop at the Space Alien Cafe on the way home where the children proceed to eat 3 cumulative bites of food, all the while begging for tokens so they can go play games of "skill" and then lose all their tokens rapidly (either because the game takes 15 seconds, or because they accidentally spill them into some token vortex located within the game area) and then come back demanding more tokens, and then throw a giant fit when we finally decide to leave, and then get the small consolation of a ball or a Chinese Finger Trap as a prize from their 30 dollars of game playing.

Anyhow, while I'm up there, lounging in between games, I usually get invited to go fishing with my friend Bob. Sometimes other players come too, and they bring their wives, and the wives lay around on the boat and get tan and take up space, and sometimes not.

Fishing is always a very enjoyable way for me to pass the time. It would be even more enjoyable if not for these few aggravating problems I have.

1.) I can't catch any fish- Oh sure, I get lots of nibbles, but every time I try to hook the nibbles, I wind up with nothing. The only thing I can catch is stupid Milfoil. (Side Note: I was told that what I was catching wasn't Milfoil, just regular old lake plants, but screw you people, it was voracious, deadly, boat-killin' Eurasian Water Milfoil. Prove me wrong!) Anyhow, all I catch is Milfoil, while everybody else catches real live fish. I felt like Charlie Brown when all he got was rocks for Halloween candy.

2.) Tiny fish nibble off the attractive parts of my lure- I don't know how many times Bob had to change my lure for me. It was probably upwards of two. These stupid little minnows or sunfish or something think it's really funny to chew off the flippers off my fake distressed animal, so it just looks like a garlicky smelling tube floating through the water. Even a mentally retarded bass isn't going to bite at a garlicky tube. You little fish are gay!

3.) I suck at casting-Everybody else on the boat is snapping off these 50 yard spirals right into the area they want it to go to. Meanwhile, 1 of 4 things happens when I cast:

a.) I completely forget to release the line causing the rod to snap violently forward, like I'm trying to beat a hooker with it or something. This causes giggles from the stupid peanut gallery who are all up to their testicles in trophy bass.

b.) I release the line way too late so my cast goes at a sideways 90 degree angle, crosses everybody else's line, and nearly lands in the boat on the opposite side. This causes scornful looks from everyone else in the boat including the wife, who has stopped reading Vogue long enough to say, "Jensen, what the fuck are you doing?"

c.) I cast too hard and my lure winds up laying on a dock, or one of those things that covers a dock. Sometimes it sticks to something, and we have to float over and unhook it. This causes angrier scornful looks, and a small part of me fears getting flung off the boat.

d.) I cast what would be a really awesome cast but somewhere along the way my line gets hopelessly tangled up so it abruptly stops mid-air and my lure (probably without flippers by now) plops into a part of the lake that doesn't have any fish in it. Then usually somebody has to help me get my line untangled, because I get angry with things that require patience. This elicits comments like, "Jesus, how did you get it this tangled?" and "Jensen, what the fuck are you doing?"

e.) Occasionally I cast a really brilliant, awesome, Babe Winkelman-type cast. This happens about 1 out of every 300 tries. This causes cheering and looks of disbelief from the others. This makes me cocky. I say things like, "What's up now bitches?" and "I'm gonna rape the fish I catch off this cast!!" Then usually I almost drop my rod into the lake or stumble from somebody else's wake and nearly pitch a header into the Milfoil. I am less cocky afterward.

4.) I won't admit that the plural of bass is "bass"- I'm sure this plays against me somehow, but screw you, it should be "basses." One bass, 2 basses. Makes sense right? Stupid English is for dorks.

So basically, what I'm trying to say is this. I shouldn't have made fun of all the guys on Bassmasters when I was 10 for proclaiming themselves athletes, because fishing for basses on Upper Spunk Lake with a garlicky tube for a lure is HARD!!