Here’s something that really got under my skin at work – Fish Houses. Those crappy little shacks you see on frozen lakes to shelter you from the cold while you sit on your ass, alternate between drinking coffee and beer, listening to AM radio with a fishing line inserted in a hole you cut through the ice hoping to catch some stupid, starving fish, although you’re really just out there avoiding your chores at home? Yeah, those. I’m guessing the first fish houses were actually refrigerator boxes that some genius dragged out there until he figured out he (yes, HE) could just drive his damn truck out there. And yes, I know I’m totally ignoring the Inuit history. Go start your own blog if you want to mine that lode. Here’s a cute little place you can sit in to keep the wind from freezing your nuts off.
I can dig this. Just keeping the draft away
Well let me tell you the fish house has evolved from those humble utilitarian beginnings to what might be the pinnacle of debauchery. Forget the cute little wooden structures, forget even the little travel trailers with holes in the bottom for easy access and behold the 21st century fish house in all its glory and wonder.
Holy Cow.
This is more tricked out than my house.
These aren’t even the good pictures. If you really want to see some fish house porn, check out this link: You may want to send small children out of the room. It’s really smutty.
People can’t find jobs and are being evicted from their homes and yet I processed about 10 of these fuckers last week. In case you’re interested, they run about $12 – $15k. If you have that kind of money to jerk off every weekend on a frozen lake and worse, that’s what you choose to do with your time and money, you should rethink your priorities.
If there are any ice fishers who read my blog, shame on you and go frak yourselves.
More crazy people at work. This woman was telling me about the weekend trip to Fanny Hill Dinner Theater (Eau Claire, WI) she had planned for her husband’s 40th birthday. She was all excited, which is to be expected, but one of her thrills was knowing she was going to see a “clean show.” When I queried her further (yes, I know this is where the trouble starts), she informed me that she hated all the “dirty stuff” they added to plays these days to make them modern. When I asked for an example she described a production of Jesus Christ Superstar she saw where the director put in all sorts of smut. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Did he add dialogue? Write a new song to throw in there?” I never got a clear answer from her, and knowing the play/musical/opera as I do I didn’t think it was likely that the director added new content. All I could imagine is that Mary Magdalene was blowing Jesus whilst singing “I don’t know how to love him.” Perhaps it was done behind a scrim – Mary out front singing the song, Jesus asleep, with this fantasy dream sequence going on behind her a la the dream sequence from Oklahoma! Call me a sicko, but that’s a production of JCSS I’d sign up for.
Also found out that Chatty Cathy is not only annoying but delusional as well. He was telling people that he was put into a special class and was assisting the management team in auditing our procedures and refining them. First of all, he started after I did, and he still hasn’t been allowed to take his training wheels off and not have all his work checked before he can ship it off to be processed. I’m sure what really happened is that he talked to our supervisor about procedures and was told that the management team welcomed any comments or suggestions that could make things more efficient and accurate (aka the get-out-of-my-office-and-do-some-fucking-work-brush-off).
