Fishing films need new gimmick; like a narrator…

Seems I’m not the only one who’s starting to find the cinematic portrayal of flyfishing as testosterone-charged galavanting by REM clones with wispy beards just a little exhausting.

Howard Meyerson, for example, just wants someone to tell him who the hell everyone is.

Next stop for men like Howard and me is where we start getting our kids’ names mixed up…

[pic courtesy of aliferte]

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A salutary tale for those of us who think teeth and snips are interchangeable in the heat of battle. Fecal Coliform sounds like something I’d rather be wiping off my snips…

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As business plans go, I’m struggling to fault this one.

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