Wishin’ I Was Fishin’

Posted: April 21, 2012 in Foolishness

At the end of March, me and my Buddie blasted up to Lone Pine to do some Eastern Sierras trout fishing.  Now the best part about fishin’, is fishin’ while you’re stoned.  And the best part about fishin’ while your stoned, is doing so outside of Lone Pine California in the Alabama Hills.  And then, whilst  fishing stoned, the trout truck pulls up in front of ya and two guys from Fish and Game start flinging nets full of fish into the creek below ya.  Well, that’s enough to thoroughly blow ones mind to the point of no return.  Needless to say, and I don’t mean to be overly dramatic, the fishing was fucking spectacular!

Being able to see 40 to 50, just planted, trout in a pool, got me to thinkin’,  “What would it be like to be a fish?”  Down there in that ice-cold water, slithering around with all your friends, just waiting to be fed.  Good thing I knew from a past life, that you Never bite the pink shit attached to sting that’s floating towards ya.  Ol’ Hector took a bite once, and we haven’t seen him since.

While mulling over the pro’s and con’s of being a trout [I actually did some fishing too; wasn’t that spaced].  My Buddie shows up, all soaking wet!  My first thought was, “Damn, that fool took the fish fantasy further than me”.  But nope!  The big dummie  fell in the creek.   What do ya expect from two sixty year old geezers, crazed with fishing madness and baked out of their minds?

Thankfully he was Okay, and fell into a deep pool (wondering what it would be like to be a trout?).  Bummer is, if he really would have gotten hurt, well instead of Lone Pine Creek, he would’ve been up Shit Creek.  Cause, a probable Cheech and Chong scenario may have ensued, wherein, I, being content in contemplation of  fish-hood, totally lost track of time and just assumed that he was down stream fishing, and having given his new vaporizer a few more tries, got just as spaced as me (wondering what it would be like to be a fish), and was just enjoying the scenery.  In witch case I’d assume he was just fine, as was I, and decide, what the heck, I’m having a few hits too.   After all that’s what he’s doing.

But none of that happened, I think.  He just changed his clothes on the side of the road, with a passing Highway Patrol Man drove by, giving him the wink and thinkin’, “There’s another old  geezer with a medical card that fell in the creek.”   “Wonder what it’d be like to be a fish?”

Well, that’s my space fantasy fishing trip for ya.  Good thing none of that happened, and all of this is just pretend.   The wives, who thankfully don’t read this crap, would kill us.

Talk about being High in the Sierras.  This guy>>>>  was just a little too happy.  There outta be a law against feeling that good.

  1. “Damn, that fool took the fish fantasy further than me”. Haha. You are such a cack. “Fishhood” very cool too.

  2. jmyste says:

    Think without articlulating anything. Do not allow words to enter your mind. I have practiced this (it does take practice) and now I can do it on demand (the thinking without words part, that is).

    Now, immerse yourself in a large body of water with man-eating creatures. Makes sure you are hungry when you do this, as I imagine a trout is hungry.

    Now you know.

    How was it?

  3. Snoring Dog Studio says:

    What fun! Yeah, it looks like your friend is doing a version of “The Hills are Alive” (with the sound of music and beer bottles opening).

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