Random Thoughts from a Wandering Mind: 2013 Wrap-Up Edition

gone hunting

I was cleaning out my mind’s closet at year’s end and these were some odds and ends I ran across.

  • I actually bought stink bait and scent blocker at the same time recently. Just for fun, I decided to see if one could cancel out the other. For the record, the stink bait was a clear winner in that matchup.
  • Why are there no Bream Pro Shops? For that matter, why are there no Bass Amateur Shops?
  • My brother Steve pointed out that, as you get older, it’s not a good idea to shoot a black hog right before dark.
  • I’ve noticed that so many people wear camo into Walmart nowadays that it actually works better there than in the woods.
  • Speaking of which, why would anyone ever want a camouflage wallet? That and my knife are two things I’d like to see really well if they fall out of my pocket.
  • According to the Post Office, you can’t actually mail anything with a duck stamp. So if you didn’t get a Christmas package from me this year, that’s probably why.

    Fish Funerals

    Fish Funerals (thanks, JP King)

  • We had our own Duck Dynasty controversy a few months ago when my brother Bill saw the episode about the guys catching frogs on a golf course. It was remarkably similar to an experience he had 25 years ago, except he was gigging frogs behind the Northwood Mall Publix in Tallahassee.  The police couldn’t think of any law he was breaking, but they made him leave anyway because they didn’t want to get calls all night long from concerned citizens.
  • I just realized my boat was made when Ford was President. My motor was built during the Reagan Administration. I think my trailer has parts that cover all the years between Nixon and Obama.
  • You know you’re on the Apalachicola River if you’ve ever caught a catfish and killed a deer in the exact same spot.
  • My father told me once that, when he was in high school, his carpentry class was building a new lunchroom for the school. Daddy got there a little early one day and drilled holes through the plywood walls. His intention was to lay the blame on his best friend, Gerald “Bug” Cayson, by spelling out his name with the holes. But when the teacher called him to the front of the room, Bug pointed out an obvious flaw in Daddy’s plan.

“Don’t you think if I had done that, I would have at least spelled my name right?” he said. Sure enough, Daddy’s brilliant scheme was undone by the fact he had carefully drilled G-E-A-R-L-D into the wall. Apparently, that alone was enough evidence to identify Daddy as the culprit.

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