Seriously, this is ridiculous.
That’s a catfish the way a sabertoothed tiger is a cat. You’re looking at a record-breaking 66 pounds of fish sticks (a gazillionty-seven kilograms, howthefuckshouldiknoweh) landed by Bev Street, a deceptively mild-mannered housewife with, obviously, a lethal antipathy to free-range freshwater fish.
In unrelated news, I have recently deleted our dear friend StevenL from the blogroll, as his former idiosyncratic football/politics/pikefishing/future lung cancer victims rights blog has turned into a gay, pink, ad-bedecked page of financial advisor for profit links. Bleagh. Buh-bye.
…and release.
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Wow. I live in the South. Mere miles from the world’s largest nuclear plant. Next to a river. And I ain’t seen nothing like that (yet).
I cannot figure out why she would have fishing line strong enough to drag that monster in if she was fishing for cat fish. I mean, cat fish, the first thing you think is not normally, Wow, I better take the 100 pound test with. She was fishing for something else, right?
Wow – if this is what mild-mannered Amerikan wives are like, it would seem sensible not to mess with America !!!
Awwww, must check out StevenL’s site now.
Shame about Bojo’s site being down. All because the hosts posted some messages a ‘big’ man didn’t like apparently. Well who’d have thought that kinda thing went on eh? Hope bojo’s site is back soon.
I like catfish; breaded and fried, yummy.
Bojo should have a list of alternate hosts by now. I know, because I sent messages to many people who can help, about two months ago. The site should have been moved by now: if nothing else, those eejuts in charge of backboris.com should have offered to step in and host it.
I’m relatively sure Guido would help him out, if Boris would trust him. In this case he should: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. At least till I’m elected. Then screw ‘em. Guido would expect nothing less, I’m sure.
Catfish is indeed yummy, if repulsive.
max: I think she was fishing for salmon, but I dunno. And anglers are weird folk; they love the whole “and I brought in the Great White on a fifteen pound line…took three and a half weeks” thing. Anyone who says the challenge is to outsmart the fish is someone who has great difficulty outsmarting fish…which tells you why they use the 15-lb line.
GEagle, that’s a British housewife! The record in the US is, I think, even larger.
Oh well part of being smarter than a fish is having a line strong enough to hold the fish no one is going to bring in a 66 lb. fish on a 15 lb. line, that is like trying to lift a piano with dental floss the piano may not be smart and it will not even fight back but the floss will still snap.
I think it’s like trying to herd cattle with a Chihuahua. It’s not so much brute force as it is encouraging them to go in a direction that isn’t so annoying.
I caught a prize-winning bass once. I was using a $1.99 reel of line I got at a gas station, a hook, and a piece of Kraft Singles cheese. The “real” fishermen snubbed me, but I still had a bigger fish than they did.
My dad fished for salmon and those fish really fought.
Me I never could catch fish they have supernatural max sensors and just stand on their tales and laugh and point if I even touch a fishing pole.
Maybe you could work a deal with the Aboriginal people here and rent yourself out to drive salmon into their nets?
It would probably work but if this requires being lashed to the prow of a canoe I am not doing it.
Um, how well do you swim, then?
This contract so better include sunscreen, an air conditioned trailer, and a whole bunch of peanut M&Ms.
Hi Philipa
I hope you & yours are well – how does one visit your Site
G E
Mother-of-one Mrs Street, who was wearing the camouflage apparel favoured by today’s high-tech anglers, said: “There was a terrific bend in my rod, about 90 degrees, and as I picked it up it nearly pulled me in, it was so heavy.
She said ‘Terrific bend in my rod’ huh huh huh (with apologies to Beavis and Butthead)
Sunscreen? I can tell you’ve never been to BC. It won’t be needed.
GEagle, I believe the entire thing has gone poof. First it hid under the covers, then Peter Hitchens tore the covers off and threw it out of its own bed. Where, presumably, he lies, snorting and thrashing, to this day.
Is there anything we can do to help P
I don’t suppose putting Prozac upstream of P Hitch’s water is an option?
Perhaps he needs a drink? His brother drinks, and he’s a decent sort, if a pretentious toss.
If you want to see something truly horrifying, check out his Makeover article in VF this month. Gah!
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