You gotta outsmart the fish at night, and pull out all the stops, use every tool in the toolbox, and every weapon in the arsenal.
(Music playing in background is Reagan’s Polyp. An audio orchestration of dimensional perversions and much needed truth in music today. Reagan’s Polyp shows the world real artistry of sound while most of the world, like our brains, limits itself to a dull existence of cowardice and greed by both bending over and kneeling down! Perfect for the late night rendezvous with that certain someone you want to impress or for showing the relatives what sort of music you’re into! Let Reagan’s Polyp slather the LOVE all over your mind! You’ll be glad you did!)
Brock, Nick and I set out to crush the spirits of the pescatorial residents of Lake Lelu. We were somewhat successful. But remember, fish have no nerves in their faces, so they probably don’t mind it that much, minus the not being able to breathe part. It’s like when someone holds your head underwater against your will, you get to enter the underwater world, and if you have courage, you can find serenity in that brief moment. Or it’s like when Clarence, a kid that lived one street over, brought his kid brother over to play basketball, and I fouled him, and he jumped up and clocked me in the jaw. It didn’t hurt, but it was pretty embarrassing.
“To occupy Iraq would instantly shatter our coalition, turning the whole Arab world against us and make a broken tyrant into a latter-day hero… assigning young soldiers to a fruitless hunt for a securely entrenched dictator and condemning them to fight in what would be an un-winnable urban guerilla war.
It could only plunge that part of the world into even greater instability.”
Booze. Boat. River.
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