I love fishing. It's just that I have a crippling weakness for the fish, and whenever I catch one I have to throw it back. The hard part is explaining it to my dad.
ME: It was too little.
ME: We've had 2 sea robins and four flukes.
GRANDADDY: I got a bite!
DAD: You hear that, Janie? We just caught our dinner.
ME: Great. His name will be...
Finally, they put him in some water. He lay there, looking at me.
This is probably one of the most violent blog posts ever.
I also just called him The Fluke because Dad said I couldn't name him.
So anyway, we brought his remains home, cooked him, and ate him.
So, after The Fluke...
I think I'll stick to lobster.