I was trying to think of something to blog about tonight that might be more interesting than the tour of the places I've sat in Camden Yards. (Yes I know; the space is wide open.)
Because next month’s trip to see my buddies out in Farmville is looming, I was hoping we might do a little pond fishing, and I recalled a story I don’t think I've told you.
A while back, the guys and I were stationed in various spots around a large pond and were having a go at fishing. The fish were biting, but were quite adept at stealing my bait. Before long, I ran out of worms. Just before I dug into my buddy’s tackle box for a lure, I spotted a cottonmouth snake with a frog in his mouth.
Frogs are good bass bait. So knowing the snake couldn't bite me with a frog in his mouth, I grabbed him right behind the head, took the frog, and put it in my bait can.
The dilemma was how to let go of the snake without getting bitten. So I grabbed my hip flask of Jack Daniels and poured a little whiskey in his mouth. His eyes rolled over, he went limp, and I released him into the pond, without incident. I carried on fishing, using the frog for bait.
A little while later, I felt a nudge on my foot.
It was the same snake… and he had two more frogs.
I have my Dad to thank for sending me that joke last summer. I've been saving it for just the right occasion, like when I can't think of jack-all to write about.
If you couldn't tell that was a joke, you must not know me very well. Do you think there’s any reality in which I pick up a poisonous snake, full mouth or not? Not without a long-ass pair of tongs and some iron gloves, I don’t. More likely, I’m making like Usain Bolt and high-kicking it around to the other side of the pond.
Yeah, I’m gonna pick this up… No freakin’ way. Nothing says, “possessed,” like a snake with clouded-over eyes. (Source)
All in all, it makes me wish I had some Jack Daniels in the house.