It has come to our attention that the feds are about to reach into our waders and pull out some cash for the privilege of fishing in coastal waters. This is more than irritating, this is yet another usurpation of natural rights of man. This is sticking one’s nose where it doesn’t belong. Well, no one will be sticking his nose into the Skunkmeister’s vintage waders. The Skunkmeister will never pay money to not catch fish. He does it for nothing.

First, they wanted to register all guns. The Skunkmeister said no. Next they will be wanting to register all those dangerous long things with reels and monofilament. The Skunkmeister says no, and will stand guard over the old homestead. Here is the best way to handle it, like we do it in the country.

If you are one of those durn fools that gave up your guns or even registered them with the so-called authorities, well, you’re gonna have to do this:

Here is the technique, with a bit of verbal direction for the revenooer when he comes to take your stuff:

Got the picture? Get those double treble hooks into that pile of guano when he shows up to harass you, then reel him in a bit. He may put up a fight, but probably not much. The last one I got didn’t. Then sit in the back of the old truck, keeping a tight line on the miscreant, while the missus drives the truck around for a while. Maybe to that mall 30 miles away. Then let that revenooer go and drive yourself back home to have a mason jar full of moonshine and a few laughs. That’ll be the last you see of him.

The Skunkmeister had to take off the vintage waders just long enough to give away daughter Sarah (see bottom of last post) in marriage to Jason. Everything went swimmingly, but I felt buck naked without the vintage waders. This has been corrected.

People may tell you that fishing has tapered off in recent weeks, but don’t you believe ‘em, because the Skunkmeister’s success rate is as high as ever. You just gotta get out there, get lost, freeze some extremities, lose some gear, whatever turns you on. Keep the faith!

Here is a sample of what you can look forward to on the Skunk Report in the coming days:

Announcing the Big Winner of the Complete-The-Corny-Saying Contest. The Grand Prize is Delivered!

The Skunkmeister previews the ice fishing season. Hint: there’s a lot of good stuff about ice in this one.

The eagerly-anticipated Skunk Report Recipe Contest. Eat your heart out.

And last, but not least, The Coming of the Smokemeister:

Can’t you just smell the love! Slack lines!

Many have wondered, “Just what is the origin of the Skunkmeister?” Legends abound, such as the one that posits that the Skunkmeister sprang fully formed from the ocean as depicted in this quickie sketch by some Italian guy named Botticelli:

Another legend states that the Skunkmeister is the seed of a union between a barracuda and a sea cucumber:

At least this is believable, since the Skunkmeister has both the attitude of the barracuda and the speed of the sea cucumber, but that’s not the real story.

No, the Skunkmeister did not spring from the sea or benefit from great parentage like the barracuda and sea cucumber; the Skunkmeister is flesh and blood, just like you, an ordinary guy with extraordinary gifts, such as distrusting everyone.

Oh, here is the reason for all this clarification - one of the fertile Skunkmeister’s many offspring, Sarah, caught this nice bluefish at Megansett a couple of days ago.

I have taught her everything I know about fishing, but she obviously has not been paying attention. Where did I go wrong?

Hope is not lost, however. While Sarah was catching this fish, the Skunkmeister’s future son-in-law was untangling a bird’s nest on his reel, achieved while “showing her how to do it right.” I am pleased that all my hard work passing on my extensive knowledge is not in vain.

I am insulted. Following this post, I received some flak (yes, that is spelled correctly) about my new, clean-cut physical appearance. These fools presumed that the creature in the ad is me. Not in a million years. Here is a side by side comparison.

This is important. I am the one on the right. Note these features on the real Skunkmeister: facial hair (a must, and not some silly goatee), orange hat (gotta be that I-am-not-a-deer-bozo color), snow (lots of it), snowshoes (not just to hang on the wall), and a mug of hot tea (must be Smokey Joe Tea, not some frilly dress, rocking on the porch, sipping tea). If you need more evidence than this, do not return to the Skunk Report. Go instead to www.blind-as-a-bat.com and get your eyes fixed. Thank you.

Once again, some people have been asking me how they can be advised of new posts without going through all that effort of looking it up themselves. How passive. Well, here is a quality graphic to show you where to go to subscribe to the Skunk Report. First, look up and to the right (on the screen, not in the room). You will see this link:

Click on the Subscribe link, do what it says, and you, too, can join the ranks of savvy fishermen who get an email whenever the Skunk Report is updated. Some of those savvy subscribers will no doubt be irritated that I have had to waste all this time reminding people about this process, but, tough beans. I don’t like it either. Now, back to the serious business of testing out my new fishing boat:

I’m particularly fond of the manly twin 0.005HP engines, each powered by a AAA battery you can buy at any store.

Someone told me that if this is supposed to be a fishing boat, there ought to be a rod holder. I’m sure it’s here somewhere. I’ll look for it when I’ve finished my beverage.

This woodcut is by a woman named Clare Leighton, who immortalized many Cape Cod scenes in word and art. Has she not captured the essence and romance of surf casting in this woodcut?

Being moved by the mood of this piece, the Skunk Report tracked down and interviewed most of the men in this picture. We found that their thoughts matched perfectly the mood of the moment.

Here’s one I had not heard…

Fishing is boring, unless you catch an actual fish, and then it is disgusting.
Dave Barry

Now, I can see where the uninitiated would think that fishing is boring, what with all that standing around (or floating around). I don’t get bored, because, when I am fishing, I occupy my time with trying to keep my footing, trying to keep mosquitoes at bay, trying to cast, trying to unravel rat’s nests, trying to recover lost tackle, and this sort of thing. I have never been bored while fishing.

As far as the disgusting part goes, I’ll let you know, right after I catch an actual fish.

You can’t stink at something unless you go out and try it. I have some spectacularly sad tales to tell about the past week, but they won’t edify anyone unless I post them here. Being a bad blogger is a lot easier than being a bad fisherman. Tonight’s the night.

The secret to Thomas Edison’s success? “I make mistakes faster than anyone else.” Amen.

Thomas must have been pretty fast, all right, because I am making mistakes as fast as I can but am still pegged at zero percent on the success meter. I guess that makes me a success, right? If you can’t be the best, be the worst (or the wurst in Deutchland).

So you think you’re bad, eh? Let’s see how you stack up against the skunkmeister! Right below our logo, you will find a new feature, the skunk-o-meter, that proudly displays the elapsed time since I have landed a fish. It looks like this:

*** 13 days since catching a fish! ***

When you are adding up your consecutive days of bad luck, remember that it is immoral to cheat by including days spent in the hospital or on business trips to the Sahara, etc. Hooking and losing a fish is okay. Hooking a fish and losing your gear counts is great. Seeing a fish swim by is normal.

Good luck!

The Skunkmeister has been failing at fishing for quite a while.