“Up this morning before the sun…”
Dateline: In, you know, shock…
I frozed hell.
Iced me a bunch of devils, I did.
And, you know, if you happen to be in line buying some Sweet Tea at Mickey-D’s and a pig flies by,
yeah that would be on me.
This whole month of Sundays.
I have somehow made impossible, possible.
If the Buffalo Bills win the Super Bowl this year, remember, I told you so.
“…fixed me some coffee and a honey bun…”
So why this sudden db-caused Paradigm Shift in the universe? Well, frankly, getting the sun to set in the east didn’t take much effort; all I did was say, “Yeah, right, I’ll fish a tournament when…”
But then, then, you know, this Toyota Bonus Bucks Tournament comes up, and it seems that somehow when I bought my Tundra, while signing the several thousand sheets of paper, 436 pages of Connecticut property tax forms alone for the privilege of taking my tags from the car I traded in and walking down the driveway and attaching them to the Tundra, but, but, but, somewhere in the stack I got me signed up as…as…a Tournament Angler.
And as I write this, $5 bills are growing on Ann’s oak tree next door.
So I’m sort of hesitating, not making any kind of real commitment you, or your attorney, could hold me to about fishing this thing when suddenly at the Toyota Angler of the Year shindig dinner for my bud Aaron Martens, I hear this exact sentence said, “Bowman is fishing the Toyota Bonus Bucks thing, you know….”
Now, between me and you, I know this sentence to be pretty much dang factual because they hadn’t yet turned on the beer tap.
I spot Bowman standing over with my bud, and co-author, James Overstreet, a photographer so talented he doesn’t even have an auto-focus button on his camera, so I go over, and depending on whether you have had any lie detector training or not, I may or may not have said a very civil welcome to Bowman, “If you are fishing that tournament and if I was fishing that tournament, I would kick your arse.”
Bowman stopped mid-appetizer chew.
Overstreet went to get his camera.