Casting Call
Or: What are you trying to tell me?
Declarative:
I don't fish.
The only time I have was well over twenty years ago at a friend's cabin where we utilized hotdogs as bait to coerce sunfish out of their aquatic domain (only to be set free immediately as I have never had a pro-poisson palette, regardless of my early-years-girth which might belie this fact; i.e. that I'd eat any/everything).
I'm also pretty certain that I have never sleep-fished (a la sleep-walking), sleep-fish-shopped, sleep-haggled/bartered with local fishmongers or any of these same activities in a non-sleep-but-inebriated-state.
I don't DEAL in fish in any capacity; the smell of such cuisine is unbearable to my olfactory senses.
Are you following along (follow my LINE of reasoning...snort)?
All of which led to my utter surprise on discovering a stash of fish piled in the easement behind my backyard (found by the keen nose and uninhibited hunger/gullet of the resident english bulldog after days of my wondering why the hell he had taken such an interest in the easement after years of ignoring it); in no uncertain terms was it possible for ME (or him, for that matter, unless the canine has taken to his own food acquisitions) to have been responsible for this cache of rotting flesh.
So what the fuck was a horde of a dozen or so fish doing decomposing back there?
The nearest lakes (Loeb, Como, McCarrons) are all about a mile away from my homestead; thus, it's not like some layman fisherman-sort 'accidentally' dropped their fishy booty there on their way home from a long day at the city lake (furthermore, cutting through the easement--an unfinished alleyway for those unfamiliar with the term--is no REAL shortcut to anywhere). It also seems unlikely that this clump fell from the cockpit of a low-flying seaplane or helicoptor owned and operated by a fishing afficiando (a-FISH-ianado, eh?) and a clutch of his buddies after a weekend excursion upnorth casting for next week's noshing.
Nope...none of these scenarios seem possible by any stretch of the imagination.
In other words, I strongly suspect one of the following:
1. Some little neighborhood shit (and possibly his/her assembled compatriots) is/are trying to send me a warning and/or sign but failed to give me the means in which to decipher the code (as it were).
What the hell does fish in the easement mean?
That I will soon be SLEEPING WITH THE FISHES? Are there young wannabe-Mafiosos lingering in my area that have a beef (well, that's the wrong flesh-term, eh?) against me? Are they pissed at the dirty looks/sneers I shoot their way when they gallavant by my property? Could it be in retaliation to the many times I have scolded their teeming masses from using my yard as a playground/shortcut?
Is someone trying to stick it to me (or, should that read, STINK it to me)?
Have I ever avowed an anti-fish-agenda in public that could result in someone protesting my views in this fashion? Maybe whilst aslumber or in a non-soberized state?
OR
2. I have unintentionally come across a sacrifice to the God(s) of the Easements/Alleys.
OH MIGHTY LORD OF THE NOT-QUITE-AN-ALLEY-BUT-CLOSE-OTHER-THAN-YOUR-UNPAVED-STATUS, PLEASE ACCEPT THIS OFFERING OF FISH AS A SIGN OF OUR UNWAVERING BELIEF IN YOUR EXISTENCE. WE HOPE THAT IT IS ADEQUATE TO TEMPORARILY APPEASE YOUR EVER-PRESENT AND UNSATIATED HUNGER FOR GILLED DELICACIES AND THAT IT WILL ONE DAY ALLOW US SAFE PASSAGE TO AN AFTERLIFE OF ETERNAL BLISS...BUT WITHOUT THE NEED FOR SNORKELS NOR BATHYSPHERES yadda yadda yadda...
Could it be that ALLEY is/was the younger brother/sister of Allah? Holy Shite (heh), I wouldn't want to piss my area Muslims off by desecrating a ceremonial offering of theirs to one of the lesser gods of their religion. What would have happened to my dog if he had actually consumed some of it?
No 70 virginal bitches in his afterlife, no doubt.
OR
3. The area feline-population have collaborated in turning my easement into their very own pantry.
Never did like cats either, dammit.
One way or the other I plan on getting to the bottom of this transgression...as long as the BOTTOM in question is not the lower depths of an area pond and my travel accomodations to said destination do not involve lead shoes, eh?
T
Or: What are you trying to tell me?
Declarative:
I don't fish.
The only time I have was well over twenty years ago at a friend's cabin where we utilized hotdogs as bait to coerce sunfish out of their aquatic domain (only to be set free immediately as I have never had a pro-poisson palette, regardless of my early-years-girth which might belie this fact; i.e. that I'd eat any/everything).
I'm also pretty certain that I have never sleep-fished (a la sleep-walking), sleep-fish-shopped, sleep-haggled/bartered with local fishmongers or any of these same activities in a non-sleep-but-inebriated-state.
I don't DEAL in fish in any capacity; the smell of such cuisine is unbearable to my olfactory senses.
Are you following along (follow my LINE of reasoning...snort)?
All of which led to my utter surprise on discovering a stash of fish piled in the easement behind my backyard (found by the keen nose and uninhibited hunger/gullet of the resident english bulldog after days of my wondering why the hell he had taken such an interest in the easement after years of ignoring it); in no uncertain terms was it possible for ME (or him, for that matter, unless the canine has taken to his own food acquisitions) to have been responsible for this cache of rotting flesh.
So what the fuck was a horde of a dozen or so fish doing decomposing back there?
The nearest lakes (Loeb, Como, McCarrons) are all about a mile away from my homestead; thus, it's not like some layman fisherman-sort 'accidentally' dropped their fishy booty there on their way home from a long day at the city lake (furthermore, cutting through the easement--an unfinished alleyway for those unfamiliar with the term--is no REAL shortcut to anywhere). It also seems unlikely that this clump fell from the cockpit of a low-flying seaplane or helicoptor owned and operated by a fishing afficiando (a-FISH-ianado, eh?) and a clutch of his buddies after a weekend excursion upnorth casting for next week's noshing.
Nope...none of these scenarios seem possible by any stretch of the imagination.
In other words, I strongly suspect one of the following:
1. Some little neighborhood shit (and possibly his/her assembled compatriots) is/are trying to send me a warning and/or sign but failed to give me the means in which to decipher the code (as it were).
What the hell does fish in the easement mean?
That I will soon be SLEEPING WITH THE FISHES? Are there young wannabe-Mafiosos lingering in my area that have a beef (well, that's the wrong flesh-term, eh?) against me? Are they pissed at the dirty looks/sneers I shoot their way when they gallavant by my property? Could it be in retaliation to the many times I have scolded their teeming masses from using my yard as a playground/shortcut?
Is someone trying to stick it to me (or, should that read, STINK it to me)?
Have I ever avowed an anti-fish-agenda in public that could result in someone protesting my views in this fashion? Maybe whilst aslumber or in a non-soberized state?
OR
2. I have unintentionally come across a sacrifice to the God(s) of the Easements/Alleys.
OH MIGHTY LORD OF THE NOT-QUITE-AN-ALLEY-BUT-CLOSE-OTHER-THAN-YOUR-UNPAVED-STATUS, PLEASE ACCEPT THIS OFFERING OF FISH AS A SIGN OF OUR UNWAVERING BELIEF IN YOUR EXISTENCE. WE HOPE THAT IT IS ADEQUATE TO TEMPORARILY APPEASE YOUR EVER-PRESENT AND UNSATIATED HUNGER FOR GILLED DELICACIES AND THAT IT WILL ONE DAY ALLOW US SAFE PASSAGE TO AN AFTERLIFE OF ETERNAL BLISS...BUT WITHOUT THE NEED FOR SNORKELS NOR BATHYSPHERES yadda yadda yadda...
Could it be that ALLEY is/was the younger brother/sister of Allah? Holy Shite (heh), I wouldn't want to piss my area Muslims off by desecrating a ceremonial offering of theirs to one of the lesser gods of their religion. What would have happened to my dog if he had actually consumed some of it?
No 70 virginal bitches in his afterlife, no doubt.
OR
3. The area feline-population have collaborated in turning my easement into their very own pantry.
Never did like cats either, dammit.
One way or the other I plan on getting to the bottom of this transgression...as long as the BOTTOM in question is not the lower depths of an area pond and my travel accomodations to said destination do not involve lead shoes, eh?
T
posted by Tony at 2:55 PM
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