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strange thing afoot


jimdfish
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As you may be aware by now by my previous posts I really enjoy going to the local river and catching a few crays for the pot. With this in mind let me tell you a story about an event that happened to me shortly before last years tree induced nightmare. My favourite cray spot is a large waterfall with dressed stone sides rising some 15 ft above the level of the basin, On the extreme left and right of the waterfall proper is more dressed stone with recesses big enough to fit a trap. These are my favourite spots to lay the traps and being inaccessible except by water I took to going up with my mate Steve, scudding down to nothing but a pair of suede desert boots and part wading, part swimming across. All was well. One day ( the traps had been out all night) we drove down the farmers track to the layby which had enough room for three car tops, and we were suprised to see it full. Walking back up, covering my self with a pair of waterproofs dug out of the boot I happened to pass a tall blonde. Curiouser and curiouser thought I as the only people I had ever seen here were fishermen. A chap who had obviously just packed up fishing and was shooting his boot jumped a mile high when I gave him the friendly " caught owt Mate". He came at me with a rush and I thought " here we go" and he grabbed my arm. Using my own brand of martial art " jimjitsu" and with a cry of "unhand me fellow" he did just that. Looking down at the poor cur I enquired of him " and what game is this" he replied with a terrified expression on his face for me to turn around. On doing so I was greeted with a view of the lovely blonde who had so recently caught my eye gettimg into her car. As I zed upon the legs thateemed to go for ever and the mini skirt that never seemed to start my eyes were drawn upwards towards her chest , a natural progression one is told, and instead of taking in the expected view that one would expect from the fairer sex my eyes were inextricably focused upon a protrusion of coarse hair more fitting of the male of the species. On considering his visage, a matter which seemed to take forever, but on reflection was probably milliseconds I came to the conclusion that this femme-fatale was not so and in all likeliness a builder or some such tradesman with the name Barry. At this point the witless fisherman and myself were once more in the emraced position as it were and watched agog as this creature clambered in to her/his car and drove off. Steve my mate emerged from the undergrowth barely able to control his mirth, an attribute which at that time I felt unworthy of a friend. On closer examination of the hapless angler we gleaned that he had been approached by this "trannie", not my choice of words I assure you, and told that he/she had heard tales of naked young men cavorting in the area and would this disciple of isaac walton like to participate in the love that thay dare not mention. Needless to say a boiler suit has been acquired and is worn now whenever i venture forth to provide for the table. This tale is absolutely true and if you do not believe you can ask me mate steve

Jim

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Laydyboys aside - tell me more about crayfish.

I run a countrypark with five lakes packed to the gunwales with Signal and Turkish crayfish that we currently trap and then incinerate as nobody seems to want them. Do they reallly taste any good or is this just a rumour being put about by the likes of Whittingstall?!? Please help as have just got a new flat and any free food is good food at the moment! :yp: :rolleyes:

 

Pike

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