# Win Free Stuff: Tell Me a Story



## Zed (Sep 18, 2006)

I've had a lot of fun here at AKFF over the years. I laugh a lot. (gra I'm looking in your direction) I'd like to give a little back in the form of some SWAG from the States. I received some lures accidentally a few years ago, that weren't the size I ordered. I just packed them away and forgot about them. I ran across them recently and I want to give them away. What fun are eBay and CraigsList, anyway?

The AKFF Show Bag thread got me thinking about the creative minds we've got around here. So, tell me a story. Preferably about kayakfishing. Ostensibly true. Absolutely funny. Nothing is off limits, but "think about the children".

Show them what they can win!
SEVEN FRENZY FIRESTICK DEEPDIVER MINNOWS!
FOUR CHARTREUSE, AND THREE BLUE! 
























The AUS dollar will cost you $0.95US. 
So get on it, if you want a piece. I'll give it a week. Next Friday, 19AUG11, 1200, PDT, I will read what we have in this thread, and make the decision. I will then ask for an addy to send the loot. If you don't want some Yank with your address, don't try too hard. All AKFF users are eligible, Mods and Admin included. Have fun.

Troy Z


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## crag (Nov 8, 2010)

There was this one time at kayak camp ... ;-)


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## scater (Nov 24, 2007)

Bugger the lures, send the girl!

don't actually bugger the lures. No responsibility will be accepted for treble-in-todger incidents.


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## Barrabundy (Sep 29, 2008)

I also would like to know whether the girl is included.


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## Zed (Sep 18, 2006)

indiedog said:


> In the last two weeks I've received letters from both the Swiss Lotto Agency and the Irish Lotto Agency both telling me I'm soooooo lucky coz I can win heaps from overseas. Amazing!!   And now I can win stuff from the USA Lure Giveaway Agency!!    Now we're talking!


Um, you'll have to do a bit better than that.


scater said:


> Bugger the lures, send the girl!
> don't actually bugger the lures. No responsibility will be accepted for treble-in-todger incidents.





Barrabundy said:


> I also would like to know whether the girl is included.


YES! You will receive 2/3 of a girl with a head smaller than an Aussie dollar.


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## keza (Mar 6, 2007)

Is this like a spot the ball comp because that girl looks like she's hold invisible coconuts.


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## scater (Nov 24, 2007)

Padding out the post count again Paul? 9000 my arse! :lol:


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## Junglefisher (Jun 2, 2008)

Any of my funny stories are already on here.


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## Zed (Sep 18, 2006)

keza said:


> Is this like a spot the ball comp because that girl looks like she's hold invisible coconuts.


Enough with the coconuts. You're obsessed with the coconuts. :lol:

occy, this isn't a raffle. You may only enter a story once. You may however enter multiple stories.



Junglefisher said:


> Any of my funny stories are already on here.


Cut n paste, I don't care. Or stick in a link.

I'm also not a spelling or grammar Nazi, if some think they aren't writers. I've been here long enough to understand the dialect.
You can't win it if you're not in it!


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## Nativeman (Sep 6, 2005)

Seeing you like stories, this is an old one from gra, have you read this, first post in the thread, The legendary barratoga, viewtopic.php?f=17&t=16042&hilit=baratoga

We alll know Gra is the biggest story teller of all(BSA), just give him the lures...

Cheers


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## RedPhoenix (Jun 13, 2006)

Unfortunately, due to the change in ownership of this web site and the lack of response by the owners to my requests to remove my email address from all administrative-level notifications and functionality, I have decided to remove my posts on AKFF. Thank you for the great times, the fantastic learning experiences and the many many fish. If you are desperate for the old content of this particular post, it is available below base64 encoded and bzip2 compressed.

Red.

----

QlpoOTFBWSZTWVUtGMsAABrfgAAQUIMAEKCilBA//9+gIACEGo9Km1NtSPSY0QMTyaj1BqZA0g2hI0B6g0NLOZGSWkiKZ8CHG8j3sG71eZ26okiuHW6+6bWKlYnXAuUMiPZZSQ0ISAnsmjY5tq0OD60dSn1PIW8P2hWAUc7MvLBKiKN6YZo2DNvkQ6nEmGJiSeIqHKsxyIJejZflq84kUDBraZejDnkw64t2QV3MbvGf8XckU4UJBVLRjLA=


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## scater (Nov 24, 2007)

Haha at sirromet red? Actually had some great meals there.


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## Zed (Sep 18, 2006)

Zed said:


> The AUS dollar will cost you $0.95US.
> 
> Troy Z





indiedog said:


> Zed said:
> 
> 
> > I've been here long enough to understand the dialect.
> ...


You caught me.. Pay me 95cent to get your dollar back. It's from Darwin, does that matter? :lol:


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## Zed (Sep 18, 2006)

Nativeman said:


> Seeing you like stories, this is an old one from gra, have you read this, first post in the thread, The legendary barratoga, viewtopic.php?f=17&t=16042&hilit=baratoga
> 
> We alll know Gra is the biggest story teller of all(BSA), just give him the lures...
> 
> Cheers


I don't think those trebles would stand up to the barratoga.


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## Barrabundy (Sep 29, 2008)

I've got nothing, I'll just have to watch this one from the sidelines.


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## Guest (Aug 14, 2011)

I reckon this is one of the funniest stories on here. viewtopic.php?f=18&t=40445&hilit=subway i often go back to read it on a bad day at work.

One of mine to put my hat in the ring...
viewtopic.php?f=17&t=45305&hilit=didgeridoo


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## kayakone (Dec 7, 2010)

Zed, 
Surely Big Gee wins. Discount all future entries.

After reading that, I've started drinking, again.


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## spider25160 (Jun 20, 2011)

I am no match for Gra and his maroon Baratoga but here is my little tale of woe viewtopic.php?f=17&t=49391#p504840


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## Junglefisher (Jun 2, 2008)

gra said:


> Two things.
> 1. I am personally discounting myself because that old tale of mine is sooooo old, and there's better ones if you trawl through history.
> 2. Gee, I had one of those moments where I'm reading your tale, laughing one minute and saying Noooo! the next. My kids were looking at me thinking I'm loosing my mind and my wife was looking at me thinking "thank Christ, he's finally having a affair."
> 
> Regards, Gra


You have kids?
Scaaaaary


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## keza (Mar 6, 2007)

StevenM said:


> Mary had a little lamb


that snorted lots of snow


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## sbd (Aug 18, 2006)

StevenM said:


> Mary had a little lamb


it's fleece was white as snow.
A lightbulb flashed,
A live bait hook,
A king-fishing we will go.

Alas, the cunning Keza,
Looking for something lewd,
Got to the lamb before I did,
now my bait was screwed.


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## grinner (May 15, 2008)

hay zed.

i thought of you this morning. had one of the "LADIES OF THE NIGHT " in for her 6 monthly "roadworthy certificate".

we've been working on new protocols and even talking about making chlamydia treatment available over the counter . this is because it is an incredibly common infection (and now australias leading cause of infertility)

the new tablet we've been asked to trial is azithromycin 500mg which goes by the tradename of zedd. brought a couple packets home. advantage is its just one dose to swallow (lol)

good to know youre keeping the streets safe mate.

heres a pic of a few sample packs, have a good one buddy.


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## Zed (Sep 18, 2006)

grinner said:


> because it is an incredibly common infection (and now australias leading cause of infertility)


IT WASN'T ME! I've never even been in the country!


nezevic said:


> I reckon this is one of the funniest stories on here. viewtopic.php?f=18&t=40445&hilit=subway i often go back to read it on a bad day at work.


I agree that one is a winner. I've actually sniped that one and sent it to friends and family over here --with a citation to "an Australian kayaker". There's so many common denominators, like Subways and nut jobs.
But don't count out the didgeridoo! Having busted my own paddle in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Cut n pasties are ok, some gems might have been missed in the past --by me and/or others. Since I have full power and author-i-TIE in this, I will make the final judgement on newness(to me).


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## skorgard (Oct 6, 2007)

Here is my story. It dates back to the mists of time when I was a very poor Uni student and kayak fishing - the sport I now know to be favoured by gentleman philosophers of substantial financial means - was only done by the Inuit.

One topic that does not come up on the forum is how we learnt to fish. Many friends were shown by their father and uncle or a family friend. My Dad was not interested and then there was nobody else until my mum remarried. My stepfather was less than a decade older than myself (my mother was an unusual woman) and with regard to fishing he was just like me : dead keen but completely clueless. So I handled that like a good Uni student and bought several books. After a few unsuccessful forays (ie running a rubber ducky off the beach dangling a big Halco metal lure as I had read you can catch fish on these things) we started getting a few but also studied dreaming of The Big Adventure. One of the books I had bought was " Where to fish in South Australia" and it mentioned exotic places like Streaky Bay and Scotts Bay. The latter sounded just amazing and we decided that was the spot. What kind of transport did we need? What kind of gear? Well my stepfather borrowed a car from a mate that we thought would do the job. It was a V8 Falcon station wagon. We loaded it up and headed off in the middle of winter. Why it was winter I cannot recall. After nearly 1000 km we headed into the adjacent bay, Fowlers Bay, to find a few fishos with four-wheel drives who told us that there was a clay pan you had to cross to get into Scott's and with all they recent rain even they could not get in. However we had the folly of youth on our side and decided to go and have a look. Well from the road we could see what they were talking about. But thinking that I knew a bit about physics I thought we could get in there by mustering enough kinetic energy. I was driving. There wasn't anything to hit apart from the few rusting hulks of other cars that had got stuck and not made it. So I gunned it - and despite plenty of slipping and sliding we made it through to the firm ground on the other side. We had a fantastic few days fishing and one evening I caught my 1st ever Big Fish - a small bronzie. However our jubilation turned to anxiety as it started raining and we thought that if the clay pan was only just passable after a few days without rain it would soon turn impassable with rain. So we hurried back to camp, threw the bronzie up on the roof rack and tried to get out using the same approach as we got in with. The only problem was, it was now completely dark and there was a lot more water on the clay pan. So I gunned it again, but this time spun and came to a stop. Well you can see where this is going but certainly the car was going nowhere. We realised that the only thing to do was to wait for morning so we slept in the car, listening to the sound of rain drumming on the roof all night. In the morning we looked out and saw that we were in the middle of a small lake and effectively the car was sunk to the floor pan. There was a small patch of firmer ground about 10 m away and we realised if we could get there we might be able to relaunch and perhaps get away. We tried jacking the car up with a reasonable piece of wood underneath the jack but all that happened was the piece of wood was forced into the clay and the car stayed where it was. Remember this was a fully laden V8 wagon. It was still raining. So Ross headed off on foot and returned a few hours later with a kind farmer and tractor. The tractor was positioned on the firmish ground we were trying to get to and tried giving us a pull. All that happened was the tractor was now stuck as well. We spent most of the rest of that day trying to get the tractor out. To try and get traction, the farmer had partly filled his wheels with water so we had to drain them. We then needed to build a short launching strip and so there were multiple trips to the beach dragging back wheat bags ( which were meant for the fish) full of sand and brush to compact down to a kind of road material. Well, we got the tractor free then spent another night in the car. The next day it was all hard work building this road of sand and brush compacted. We had unloaded the car to try and reduce weight and so all our stuff was covered in mud. We were covered in mud. The interior of the car was full of mud. Mud as far as they eye could see. The shark was still on the roof rack but it was ditched after being photographed. We were discussing what the car was worth as we were pretty sure that insurance would not cover this. We realised that there were quite a few rusting hulks around us - it seemed more than when we got in. We were finally able to jack the rear wheels an inch or two inches at a time. Finally, by the end of the day we were ready to give it a launch and this time we made it. We headed into Fowler's and the fishos told us that they had "forgotten" to mention that there was another track out, much longer but avoided the clay pan. We drove to Nundroo roadhouse and ordered a mixed grill with the steaks so big that they overflowed the plate on both sides as I forgot to mention that we had also run out of food.

Zed, this place was pretty remote. South Australia is big : about 40% bigger than Texas and almost 2 1/2 times the size of California. However state population is only 1.6 million of which around 1.3 million live in and around Adelaide. There is an awful amount of nothing. If we kept on going further west we would have had to cross the Nullarbor Desert which at that time despite being National Highway number 1 was a dirt road with so little traffic that if people saw another car coming they would stop and have a chat. On the road to Nundroo we shredded a tire unfortunately we had enough cash to buy one as it wouldn't have been a smart idea to go without a spare. These were the years before credit cards and the garage was full of expensive car radios, watches and other items which had been traded for enough fuel to get to the next place.

Well we finally got home and the detailing to get rid of the mud cost us a small fortune. However it was a great adventure and of course I'd caught my 1st Big Fish. We went back many times, gradually getting better and better at the fishing which included huge mulloway and snapper as well as salmon as well as sharks which stripped our reels.

It was an unforgettable trip. I know that it had nothing to do with kayaks, wasn't particularly funny (unless _schadenfreude_ is your thing) but it might make you smile. Worth a few lures?

Regards

Paul.


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## kayakone (Dec 7, 2010)

You could all be held crimminally guilty of causing death by laughing.

Trevor


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## Zed (Sep 18, 2006)

That reminds me of a tale of woe.

Back in the good old days when travel into MEX wasn't so risky, me and some friends would make a trip into Baja for a 10-day primitive camp every year around June. It took a lot of planning and logistics since it was desert, and everything needed to be brought. Gallons of water, shelter/shade, some firewood, some food, fishing gear, fishing tackle and kayaks. Not to mention the coordination of days off from work for everyone involved.

It was 2002 and it finally came down to make a trip after a couple years off. My friend Tedd did a Banzai drive directly from Colorado, to California, slept a couple hours at my place and was ready to leave at 0300, in order to reach the MEX border right at daybreak. We left on time. It was me and my friend Sean in his Ford Bronco, and Tedd following in his Ford Explorer. We were about 45min from the border, still driving in the dark cruising ~100kph and we smell something burning. A bad smell.
"Is that us," I asked.
"Is that smoke?" Sean replies.
"Holy shit!", as black smoke is starting to billow thru the vents.
Then, an orange flash.
"Holy shit!" the dash warning lights go up like a Christmas tree.
"Holy shit! the Bronco shuts down at speed and all power is gone.
We coast to a stop on the shoulder, and I bail out in 0.37932miliseconds after stopping, and grab the fire extinguisher.

Side note. Everyone should have one in their vehicle. Can't tell you how many Carbeques happen because the driver just didn't have one. I now know what those scorched, melted bits of blacktop are all about.

So I'm on my belly, beside the Bronco, spraying the entire undercarriage, as the tranny had detonated and sprayed burning tranny fluid all over the bottom. As I would put out the burning puddle, it would re-ignite as the burning fluid would continue to pour out of the spent tranny. It took several attempts to get the whole thing out and the whole contents of the extinguisher. From Tedd's view, all he saw was the fireball, and his Explorer was sprayed with a shower of fluid.

So that was our trip. It was a heart breaker. After arranging the tow, and deciding we can't continue in any fashion, we deal with returning the gear to our homes, and securing rides. Tedd, takes a couple hour nap back at my place, and Banzais it back to Colorado to his wife and young son. Total failure! We all had our heads hung and our tails between our legs.

FF to August. Sean's got a new tranny, we've both got some more time off so we plan another trip into Baja. A little different destination this time. The route is along the inside of Baja, E facing coast, rather than the main highway down the W side. It's a bit rougher, with more dirt washboard, but over all it's less travel time. August is Summer, here. Duh. And a finger of the Sonoran Desert extends into Baja. So temps were above 40C.

On the way down, about an hour and a half after crossing the border at Mexicali, we ran over a piece of rebar and popped a tier near the sidewall. Mex roads are not known for their friendly shoulders. And driving is an adventure anyway. So we unpack, and get out the spare. The jack needs to be shimmed, and it is so F'n hot battling with the jack under the car any sweat is just making mud.

Well the flat was dealt with and once we reach San Felipe, we find a tire shop and buy a used tire as a spare, and continue on. The road deteriorates from blacktop to something with more potholes than black, to straight dirt washboard. We need to cover about 25miles on that. Sean is really nervous that we might bust a shock mount or something on the road, and refuses to get up to speed and "skim" the washboard. So we just put through it and beat the crap out of ourselves. Finally, about 10 miles shy of our destination he says, "I can't do this anymore! This is as far as we go."

So we pulled off the road and made our way E, and basically gambled on tracks that might take us to water and we found a suitable place to camp for the week. It got up to over 45c, and we were camping on solid rock, that would not cool off at night. Our morning coffee had to be drank up to our necks in the Cortez, in order to be enjoyable. Coming back to shore, on a rising tide, the water temps were near 40c as the water hit the hot rocks. We caught fish, but suffered immensely, fending off dozens of rats and mice nightly that hadn't seen the kind of grub we brought in generations.

We dubbed this place Hell Camp, and it lived up to that title. The departure day came and we were significantly lighter, so we made good time back to the blacktop. But our woe was not over. We had to deal with two more flats on the way back to the border, swimming in sweat-mud jacking that f'n Bronco. Back in Mexicali, we were creeping thru traffic, waiting in line to cross back into the USofA, and 20yds from the Customs gate, the Bronco dies...
It would turn over, but wouldn't fire. Luckily/coincidentally, there was a local, Mexican mechanic poted up there for just such a [presumably common] problem. Between my Spanish and this gentleman's pantomime he told me the fuel pump relay was shot. He could jury-rig it, but he needed some wire to bypass the relay. So I sprinted thru customs, flashed my passport, ran thru the streets, looking for an auto parts store to buy some 12ga wire --still over 100F, btw.

I found the right store a few blocks away, and ran back to the Bronco and gave the man the wire and he proceeded to get the Bronco running in mere minutes. Hallelujah! On the road again. What a bit of luck to find that guy. We were feeling blessed in spite of the issues with the trip. So a couple hours later, as we're climbing the mountains dividing the desert interior from the coastal plain of San Diego...
"Do you smell that?" [You NEVER forget that burnt tranny smell!]
"Is that US?!"
Dash lights up, all power gone, coast to the shoulder. I grab the [new] extinguisher and put out the undercarriage, as Sean just sits in the driver's seat stunned and unresponsive. After the fire was out I lost it; started kicking rocks, kicking the Bronco, stringing together every curse I had ever heard in multiple languages.
"Not f'n again! The same gdamn thing! AAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

A half mile back we had passed a call-box [roadside emergency telephone] so I started walking back. As I nearly reached it, I checked my cell and I had good signal, so I turned around and started back. Just then a CHP (police) stops and asks if I need help. I tell him what happened and that I was headed for the callbox, but found I had signal, and was going to call for a tow.
"OK,. and he was off. Must have been end of shift because he didn't seem bothered at all. Got back to the Bronco and found out the signal I was getting was from MEX and my cell coverage was not able to call into/from MEX.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! Shoot me now. Get it over with.
So back to the callbox, call an extremely expensive tow from the middle of BFE, and deal with getting our asses back home to lick the wounds.

This was all true, about kayaking, and kind of funny if you weren't involved.
What do I win? Oh wait. Crap. 
Booby-prize.


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## john316 (Jan 15, 2009)

Dear Mr. Zed,
This has absolutely no tie whatsoever to either kayaking or fishing and though I believe it to be true I am unable to verify its veracity. In a 40 year working life, I have been a lot of places and attempted many different ways to make both ends come together in the middle. Too many.

Several years ago while farming in north west NSW, further west from Keepit dam ( a feeble attempt at a water reference) I went to T.A.F.E. to obtain the necessary qualifications for using explosives around the farm. The instructor was an expat American who had also been around a bit and had a story to suit all facets of the course he was teaching. This is one of those stories.

On another course he had run, he had arranged a field trip to a farm where there was to be an exercise in using explosives to clean out a silted up dam. We did the same and it proved to be both exciting and a whole lot of fun. On the occasion of this story, the farmer in question was, well, henpecked. The wife was known to have a tongue that was always active and always caustic. Sharp enough to cut bread some would say.

On the day of the dam cleaning exercise there was almost a half a tonne of ANFO buried some 3 feet down in holes bored on a grid pattern across the bed of the dam. When all was in readiness a large group of students and a few other on-lookers were gathered at the farm house where some safety issues were discussed and last minute instructions were issued. The farmer's wife emerged from the house and stated rather regally that she was also going to come and view the proceedings before she went into town for a meeting, for which she was already dressed in a white lace dress. Knowing her reputation as a nagging woman the instructor valiantly tried to inform her that her attire, while quite appropriate for her later meeting, was really not up to scratch for "blowing up dams". This brought her attention round onto the instructor and in front of all those gathered there she gave him the full measure of her vitriolic tongue. Acknowledging defeat in the face of her blistering attack he withdrew his objection and she walked out to the site at the head of the column of onlookers.
When the observation point was reached all stopped and the instructor and some students proceeded for a final check of the job before retiring to light the fuse and quickly retreating to a safe distance.

When a dam is blown there is a sequence of events when the explosion occurs. The first thing is the visual effect of water and silt dramatically rocketing sky-wards followed by the noise. This is hard to describe as it has a distinct and unusual sound that impacts your whole body. Ear protection is a definite must. After the roar the sound continues as a soft hissing as the silt begins to drift in the breeze. The third and last thing is a compression wave that follows after the noise. This is almost impossible to describe as you stand back listening to the quieter noises when a sledgehammer blow knocks the wind out of your lungs.
On this occasion, however, there was a fourth event.

The wind drift had swung around from a direction that would have deposited the slit away from the assembled party to a direction where it blew back directly over them. The farmer's wife stood unsuspecting, still resplendent in white and, too late realized the error of wearing lace into the paddock. As the cloud of silt, now reduced to micro particles drifted past all were coated in a thin layer of black as effectively as if they had been spray painted at the local auto shop. Without a single word she turned and walked away and, as she did there was a near perfect straight line down each side delineating the clean white back and the now black front of the lace dress.

It was 6 weeks before the instructor met the farmer again. Truth be told he had been a little fearful of seeing him again, all the while thinking about the wrath of an already fearsome woman being vented on his friend. They met in the street of their town and the farmer met him with an enormous hug and an invitation to come down to the pub for a beer. Now this was not Brokeback Mountain and this kind of emotion was unexpected in a quiet and reserved outback community and the instructor started to mumble out a carefully rehearsed apology but the only reply was a repeated insistence to come and have a beer.
Over a schooner, the farmer poured out his heartfelt gratitude "for the best 6 weeks of my life". Since "D" day, the day of the dam, the day of the black and white dress, the caustic mouth had remained shut.... for 6 weeks she never uttered a word.

cheers

John


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## spooled1 (Sep 16, 2005)

Zed - Irrespective of the content, I suggest you vote for the post with the highest word count.


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## enviroman (Mar 7, 2008)

I luv this story......i start to tear up every time i read it!


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## eagle4031 (Jan 29, 2010)

i have lived my whole life without a story :?


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## Zed (Sep 18, 2006)

StevenM said:


> Zed
> (please copy and paste AKFF'ers and continue our stupid humor)


Gladly.








Although I liked your 4-way compilation w keza, sbd and patwah, not the creativity tap I was looking for.



skorgard said:


> Here is my story. It dates back to the mists of time when I was a very poor Uni student and kayak fishing - the sport I now know to be favoured by gentleman philosophers of substantial financial means - was only done by the Inuit.


Good story I enjoyed it and it brought back memories of trips of my own. Obviously*.



john316 said:


> This has absolutely no tie whatsoever to either kayaking or fishing and though I believe it to be true I am unable to verify its veracity. In a 40 year working life, I have been a lot of places and attempted many different ways to make both ends come together in the middle. Too many.


An equally good story, that I enjoyed, and it brought back memories of trips of my own. Except for the cool "clean out a silted up dam" part. I live in S CA. Wannabe Hollywood Diva Mecca. I know the type.



spooled1 said:


> Irrespective of the content, I suggest you vote for the post with the highest word count.


I think mine is the most*. That's not right. I just wanted some good fishing stories from the other side and end of the globe.



enviroman said:


> I luv this story......i start to tear up every time i read it!


Blatant plagiarism is not allowed

eagle, that's unbelievable.

All in I think it is BigGee, ftw.
Not only did he have to go digging, he had to show his poopy permit. I think I know how infrequent you actually have to show it to an officer --once a year, maybe here-- so that's just that officer's shitty luck, too. Some days you can't escape it.

I thank gra for politely bowing out, we all know he wins for funny posts. To those that re-posted stories, I thank you for the original time in composing it, and they were/are quite entertaining. nezevic, w/ the didgeridoo, and the nomination of GregL for Subway, I appreciate them and have laughed a lot. Thanks for indulging me.
Cheers!!

Geoff, PM me you details, and I'll get the care package on its way. I'll expect a proper TR.


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