Ahh…New Years Eve, a night of romance and whimsy where
love is first found and then quickly lost when your date starts
puking their brains out at 11:30. Just remember you probably just
paid $75 for what is now coming straight out of your companion’s
face hole, and last time I checked nice restaurants do not
accept returns for full refunds. This year I will forego the hoopla
to sit at home with my wonderful family and most likely fall asleep
on the couch well south of midnight surrounded by PBR
Spaldings. So tonight when the New Year baby makes his mad dash
through the party, don’t be alarmed. That is just your drunk fat
friend in a diaper…not a real baby.
May your 2011 smell
like fish,
-Dave
Southern Culture On The Fly
rantings of a psycho
Monthly Archives: December 2010
Piney Creek Tech Pack Update
Awhile ago we did a quick initial review on the Fishpond Piney Creek Tech Pack. Seeing as I am snowed in again (for the third time in December…If I ever get my hands on this La Niña character I am going to slap the piss out of her…I don’t care if she is a girl), I decided to take the pack out for more utilitarian purposes. In this case, utilitarian means strapping supplies to my back and making the soul crushing walk 3/4 of a mile straight uphill to my house, through a good foot of snow with nothing standing between me and the bottom of a frozen ditch except for a pair of glorified tennis rackets strapped to my feet. I am happy to report the Piney Creek Tech Pack not only met the challenge, but did it in a manner befitting the glorious sack of Zeus himself.
As you can see I was able to get two full size Digiornos’ Pizzas in there, what you can’t see is the 12 pack of beer, the half-gallon of milk, the 3 packs of smokes, and my iPad that were also crammed in that bad boy. If I could have found a midget at the grocery store, I would have stuffed him in there to with room to spare. The pack rides nice fully loaded, but a padded waist belt would make this thing a Cadillac. As it stands, you will probably never load the Piney Creek up heavy enough to need the extra padding, unless you are like me and like to load bags with rocks to carry around just for the f of it. Once the thaw hits I will fill this puppy up with fishing gear and head somewhere to test its non-utilitarian use, but it will probably still be loaded up with beer…lets make that definitely.
- Dave
Christmas Eve Double Rainbows
On the eve of christmas we, here at SCOF, give you double rainbows…
and double rainbows…
Nothing screams Christmas, like wookies and rainbows…except maybe wookie Santa.
Happy Holidays,
- Dave
1st Annual SCOF Triploid Chaser Photo Contest
Just to prove that we here at SCOF are not without holiday cheer, we are happy to bring you our first contest ever. So here’s the deal, we want a picture of your biggest ugliest triploid of the year. Missing jaw…sweet. One eye and no fins…even sweeter. Pretty fish get enough press, it is time to honor the triploids in all of their football-shaped, small-headed beauty. We will run the contest till January 1st when we will narrow down the choices a bit and turn it over to the people in the form of a blog poll. Winner gets a new SCOF T-shirt, and a feeling of goodwill toward all of God’s creatures, even the genetically altered ugly ones. Just to get things started, here is my most recent triploid conquest. Notice the dull eyes and the lack of reproductive organs…like a sunset, over a unicorn, under a rainbow…just awesome.
- Send Pics to southerncultureonthefly@gmail.com
- Dave
Redfish of The Cajun Variety: “Red Like Winter”
Caught this trailer from Water Line Media over at Midcurrent today. I have to admit that I haven’t made it down to the Gulf yet to tangle with the monstrosities they call Bull Reds down there, but that is a wrong that will be righted soon…very soon.
- Dave
Local Rules
Today I strapped on my snowshoes Kaczynski-style, and ventured out into the real world. I was apprehensive at first, thinking that in the four days I had been removed, the world must have changed. It wouldn’t have surprised me to see dogs and cats living in perfect harmony, hover cars zooming around, or even a world where trout had evolved to be the dominant species on the planet (kind of like Planet of the Trout). I am pretty sure I freaked out the lady behind the counter at the gas station because as she handed me my smokes she mentioned something about a wild look in my eye. I couldn’t hear her though as I was to busy screaming at the guy behind me in a fit of socialization overload. I eventually regained my composure enough to get on with my wifey assigned task of gift shopping (with a side stop at Lexington Avenue Brewery). Down at the brewery I noticed a poster that sums up our shopping habits here at SCOF.
I was personally kind of hoping that Speedo’s would be the new black, but I digress. This year has been a rough one for most of the fly fishing industry, but none have been hit harder than your local flyshop owner. I am not the first one and hopefully won’t be the last one to say that it’s a good thing to support your local flyshop. The guy who stands across the fly shop counter from you does not drive a Benz, or have millions tied up in Halliburton. He definitely will listen to you every time you have a picture of your newest slab, and he also will probably let you take every rod in the rack out for a test cast while full well knowing you are gonna be back next week to do it all over again. He does all this while making barely enough money to support a family, but the real kick in the nuts is, the poor bastard probably gets to fish even less than you. So this holiday season, we here at SCOF feel that it’s time we all clear our collective “shop rat” consciences and go buy something from the guy down the street. Lord knows he could use the business.
- Dave
Remembering The Warmth Of The Good Old Days…Last week
This is day three of, “The Grossman Family Snowbound Experiments 2010″. I am happy to report that none of us have resorted to cannibalism…yet (is it weird that every time I look at the dog I see a cartoon T-Bone?). It looks like the next time I get to go fishing may be spring, as I don’t foresee my meteorologically imposed incarceration ending anytime soon, so I am now forced to relive the glory days of last week. Those were the good old days…the roads were clear, I could pee outside without worrying about frostbite, and I actually got out to fish. Well, to be more accurate I got to row Steve around on his birthday and play the guide to his sport. What can I say? I am not a rich man and the gorilla suit I wanted to get him was a little out of my budget this year. There was just about as good of a midge hatch that any over the hill birthday boy can hope for. We didn’t catch any monsters but somehow did manage to snatch a killer dry fly day right out of old man winter’s back pocket. Even though it was his birthday, I cajoled him into to taking some pics, as we are starting to assemble winter photos that will be in next year’s issue. And as per usual, here are some photos that probably won’t make the magazine but can be filed under “PR” for “Pretty Rad” (That’s right in front of “PS” for “Phat Shizznit”).
- Dave
Monday Morning Cartoon: SCOF Original
So I am snowed in again here in WNC. I am pretty sure that I am not getting off the mountain for a few days so expect my ramblings to progressively devolve until the end of the week when I will most likely just be writing out grunts and fart noises. ”Snowed in” has become a pretty constant state of affairs around here, but last week I was able to get out and about for a couple of days, which I promptly spent stooped over Steve’s laptop creating the fine piece of SCOF original film noir I present here today (looking back I probably should have cut some more firewood, but in the end that is the sacrifice we here at SCOF make for hilarity). The language is a little more salty than you would find in a typical episode of The Smurfs, (I did hear Gargamel cussed like a sailor off camera though) but in our defense, we have absolutely no control over what the cartoon character versions of ourselves do or say…those guys are a couple of real assholes. So without further ado, enjoy our little fly fishing anime project and expect more of these little nuggets of funny in the weeks and months to come. Oh yeah, and if anybody has a copy of The Shining they want to lend me, I am developing an uncontrollable urge to watch that movie over, and over, and over, and over, and over…
From high atop the hill that never thaws,
-Dave
Fly Tying Apathy of the Worst Order
An apathy has set in at my tying desk, and it reeks of stale alcohol and dried out epoxy. I have been snowed in for the past couple of days high atop the mountain in Dave-landia, and one would think that I would be swimming in my new pile of freshly tied hook and fur like Scrooge McDuck pulling a full gainer into his money bin. At last, my desk sits full of materials and no flies. I have attempted to motivate myself in the usual ways. Two days ago it was self-flagellation. I woke up, looked in the mirror and said to myself, “Dave, you are ugly, not worth a shit as a human being, and no one will like you unless you tie three dozen flies today.” I spent the rest of the day feeling pretty bad about myself…you know, my mom never hugged me enough type of stuff…and never got around to tying a single fly amongst all the self-loathing. So, yesterday I tried financial incentives. I told myself that I would tie flies on a bonus system similar to those Wall Street fellas. I then realized that I, like Wall Street, was paying out my own bonus, and tying it to performance wasn’t all that necessary. So I am now 20 dollars richer (took it out of wifey’s wallet), and I still haven’t tied a damn thing. Today I am withholding sex from myself until a dozen or so flies have been completed. I have high hopes for holding myself sexual hostage from myself, because if it doesn’t work, tomorrow I will try some new age positive reinforcement and spiritual centering…and we all know that crap never works.
- Dave
I Am On Vacation
I am on my way down to Charlotte for the ACC championship to meet up with some college friends and hurl drunken obscenities at two teams that none of us care about. So until I get back on Monday enjoy some Saturday morning cartoons via SCOF contributor Kent Klewein via possible future SCOF contributor Louis Cahill (crossing our fingers on this one folks). Admittedly steelhead fishing is a little out of SCOF’s normal realm, but funny is funny. Expect a SCOF original cartoon next week utilizing this NASA like technology…can you guys handle fly fishing redneck snorks…I hope so.
