This is how the truth tastes

These back-to-back weeks with the Bassmasters can be hard on a man left to his devices — emphasis on "vices." Pickled eggs and pork rinds — ain't livin' long like this.

James Overstreet and I got two days off on Lake Eufaula between West Point Lake and the Alabama River tournaments. Our digestive systems got zero days off.
No, we did not fry up any of those "Giant Red Worms" pictured above. I bought 'em because I couldn't catch a bass on Eufaula. I've been a decent bream-snatcher from way back. But I kept thinking my bass luck would change, and I never got around to wettin' a worm. I've still got those earthworms in my fridge at the Montgomery Embassy Suites Hotel. Ten bucks and a carton of red wigglers — now that's what I call a tip for the maid!
I am not, however, leaving a single shell of Uncle Bud's Cajun Fried Shell-N-All Peanuts. Got to get your fiber some place.
I heard a statistic the other day that there are now more adults than infants wearing diapers in this country. I don't know if that's true. But I do know if this Elite Series was scheduled back-to-back-to-back, there would be at least one more adult wearing diapers in the U.S. of A.
Once a man? Maybe. Twice a child? No doubt.
I've been told we need to write more "lifestyle" stories here. Well, there you have it: One chapter in the lives of Cracker and Jack — "The Red Butt Diary."
Bon appetite, Mother's Day celebrators.

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