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For MJC - Definetly Not Fishing Related

73K views 23 replies 9 participants last post by  blawless 
#1 ·
My dear MJC,

My thanks to you for your inspiration. Based upon our recent off-line exchange, I decided to go in search of a hotpants sighting this morning. I was not disapointed. Low and behold one was soon to be seen. And what a hottie. This was not some dolled up long haired version like I have seen of late but a short haired hardbody wearing the prettiest purple outfit you can imagine. And boy was she wild. And built. While I am sure she could fit into a size 6 dress, she had a 36" bust and a 17 inch waist. Boy with a body like that, who needs Viagra. Thanks to you my friend for convincing me there is still value in the old tried and true. :smokin:

'tip
 
#2 ·
Howdy Sinktip,

That is quite an account!!! Just reading your graphic description has my blood racing. My heart is pumping so hard I think I'd better take an extra blood pressure pill.
My heart is filled with lust to go to the river's edge and look for some hotpants. Maybe if I'm vigilant I can find a hard bodied screamer of my own.:eyecrazy: :whoa:
 
#5 ·
Right on, guys....

Being the "wrong side" of age 69, I still appreciate the scenery provided by these "finer things in life".

By the way, Fred, aren't you the guy who has been known to change the direction of your casts to observe the scantily clad "feminine pulchritude" of some "woods nymph" frolicking streamside?:tsk_tsk:

Boy, some "moralist"!:devil:

BobK:smokin:
 
#8 ·
No, nothing fishy...

If a person will search diligently they can find some hotpants for their own pleasure.:whoa:
 
#9 ·
Kerry,
All summer there has been fishy going ons over here in NW Steelhead land. From Mary to 22 year olds naked as jay birds the smell of old fish has lingered on. It is in the translation of ones realitity that tells a story only a mother could love or the Rossetta Stone could solve. I believe it was our famous "Plunker" who once said on another station, " It was Tim Leary who invented space." I would only say that fishermen have done it this way long before Tim Leary got you, me or anyone else to see realitity in such a soothing and abstract form.

Renting a room for an hour here and there can be priceless, Fred.
That's all some of us can afford and that's is all the time some need down on old Water Street.:smokin:
 
#10 ·
He bows from the middle to acknowledge a "GOTCHA!"

BobK said:
Being the "wrong side" of age 69, I still appreciate the scenery provided by these "finer things in life".

By the way, Fred, aren't you the guy who has been known to change the direction of your casts to observe the scantily clad "feminine pulchritude" of some "woods nymph" frolicking streamside?:tsk_tsk:

Boy, some "moralist"!:devil:

BobK:smokin:
During the warmer weather we have what's known as "the plastic hatch ..." Rafter, lots and lots of rafters in the top 10'ish miles of river (rental rafts, etc.) .... Well, it's 95 degrees .. oh he.., you get the idea that in the swim suit dept. "less is more."
:hehe:
 
#12 ·
Ah heck, the thread's already going sideways so

I'll toss this one in for a grin. (Bill W. sent this to me in a e mail.)

I like the explanation:

Subject: Manure on the seas


In the 16th and 17th centuries, everything had to be
transported by ship and it was also before commercial
fertilizer's invention, so large shipments of manure
were common.

It was shipped dry, because in dry form it weighed
a lot less than when wet, but once water (at sea)
hit it, it not only became heavier, but the process
of fermentation began again, of which a by-product
is methane gas. As the stuff was stored below decks in
bundles you can see what could (and did) happen.
Methane began to build up below decks and the first
time someone came below at night with a lantern, BOOOOM!

Several ships were destroyed in this manner before it
was determined just what was happening. After that, the
bundles of manure were always stamped with the term "Ship High In Transit" on them which meant for the sailors to stow it high enough off the lower decks so that any water that came into the hold would not touch this volatile cargo and start the production of methane.



Thus evolved the term "S.H.I.T " , (Ship High In Transport)
which has come down through the centuries and is in use to this very day.

You probably did not know the true history of this word.

Neither did I. I always thought it was a golf term.

And of course we all know where the term 'cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey' originated.

:D
 
#13 ·
Well not totally off base. A little after my wonderful hotpants experience yesterday there was a definite bulge produced from seeing a nice set of bare boobies shaking back and forth. I would have loved it if she would have consented to go further but hey, sometimes it is nice just to watch.
:cool:
 
#14 ·
MJC,

Any place over that way for someone to buy hotpants? I figure with all the press they have been getting lately, maybe some of the board members would like to buy some for their wifes and/or girlfriends. Heck, maybe you should add them to your shop. A little bit of a reach from rods and waders but who knows, they might catch on. The cutting edge of fashion moves from Paris to Peck!

'tip:chuckle:
 
#15 ·
That's a thought but...

I dunno. You know how our friend OC feels about fly shops that sell "gifts". I guess I could stock some in black, purple, and maybe orange. I saw some with a "tube" top that looked really HOT!:cool:
 
#16 ·
WOW!!!!

I'm all for it. After MJC was so nice to send me a coffee cup with a trout that comes up to a hunphy for a gift last year I've been visiting fly shops through out the land collecting, collecting. The hot pants would be perfect sales items on my sloop also now that I've started an adventure charter service for wayward women of all ages. MJC maybe the hot pants should have FLYFISHER printed on the front and HAPPY HOOKER on the butt. If you can find a good deal in bulk on the German leather market or used hot pants cleaned, pressed and boxed from the late 60's Siagon market let me know will you.
And who say's we don't talk fishing on this board anymore.
IT'S ALL ABOUT FISHING and CATCHING!
 
#18 ·
MJC,

Are those rises the result of the bare boobies or the tube top?

OC,

Sounds like Sinktip has been having too much fun this summer while the rest of us have been trying to get a bulge from something other than boobies. Sure would like to find a nubile form with the dimensions Sinktip claimed were on the one he found with hotpants.

Sinktip,

And OC thought he was having all the fun on his sloop. I also agree with OC that you have outdone yourself in this season of disappointment for most.
 
#19 ·
Flytyer,

As much as I hate to say it you are right. I think Sinktip has hooked every fish that saunters on to Water Street this summer.
But it's been that way for a long time.

Years ago he let me know who was boss on our very first meeting on the river. I told him there were no fish in the run above and he went up there soon came back with a hatchery hen of 6 pounds and whacked me in the side of the head with it as he walked by. Thought about just shooting him but realized that this guy Sinktip was so full of himself in a kind of nice conserative way that he would make one hell of a good Steelheader to fish with. If we compete on Water Street which I'm sure we do he wins more often then not. But he better watch out this winter if I start swinging the cheating stick or the Spey rod as some call it. This Summer has been tormenting as every Sunday night that I come home from the boat after a hard weekend of sailing and helping many wayward women overcome their fear of water I find a message on the answering maching from Sinktip telling of fishes and Water Street. It's a nice way to end the weekend Knowing that someone as good natured as he has scored again!:hehe:

Let us hope that all of us in the Puget Sound river systems do as well next Summer as he did this year.
 
#20 ·
Even the blind squirrel sometimes finds an acorn.

The only down side is I think I may need a hearing aid now. Every now and then a hotpants wearer results in a loud sweet screaming sound that while immensely pleasing, can't help but be damaging to both your heart and hearing. Or do you all think I am doing something wrong :confused:
 
#21 · (Edited)
Sinktip,

That is why you should get one of the newfangled disc thingies, they allow for a firmer holding while keeping the shrieking at bay. It produces more of a low moan; thus, your hearing is saved from harmful decibel levels.

OC,

Cheater Stick! Surely a master of the art, such as yourself, knows that it is not the size of the rod that matters, it is how well it is used to place your "lure" in the proper locale. I do agree that Sinktip is one of the nicest and most gentlemanly fishers of the spey that I have had the priviledge to know. And he deserves each opportunity to play with a fresh hotpants cutie.
 
#24 ·
Nude on the Yakima

This one of my old fly fishing stories that may or may not amuse.
Thing is, every word is true.

A Nude on the Yakima
Flyfishing Stories by Bob Lawless

Every angler I have ever known has always had the same fantasy that I have had and yet this same dream never seems to come true. I speak here of finding a beutiful woman, completely naked, lying on a log, sunbathing, and ready for some fun in the sun.
But this very thing happened to me on the Yakima last week. I was wading as usual way too deep for my own health and I was feeling along the bottom hoping that things would shallow up if I could just make it around this snag and then back toward the bank and then I would be in a beautiful position to make a short roll cast and flip my fly along an undercut bank that cannot be approached in any other way. Only in low water years can this be done.
I know there is a monster hiding there because he has broken me off twice. Each time he strikes, he makes a dash for the snag and pop goes the weasel.
So here I am, only 1/4" more of rubber left before terrible flooding will begin. I am afraid to breath and it is just then that my eyes catch a glimse of her. At first I think that I have drowned and have gone to fly heaven(no wind,lots of hatches with flies to match, gargantuan fish, no one around, nice lunches, and, of course, beautiful women at every turn).
She is looking straight at me and does not seem alarmed in any way.
I fight desperately to think of something cool to say. Finally, I come up with, "Hi, what's your sign?" About a glass of water spills down my waders, soaking my abalones, and makes it to my socks. She smiles ever so slightly.
So I say,"Haven't we met before?" I took on about a pint with that one. No reaction from her.
I am quite wet now but still afloat. So I say, "Do you come here often?" (I keep amazing myself with all of these cool pick up lines I keep coming up with). Nothing. Even though that last line caused about a qallon of water to flood in, I kept it up. Briefly, I thought I might just get nasty and say something crude, but I am too much of a gentleman to do such a thing. An she was obviously even more than a lady.
So I'm thinking, what to do?
I believe honesty in relationships is always the best policy and so I say, "Miss, you are certainly the most beautiful nude woman I have ever seen while fly-fishing, well, in fact, anywhere. And you have caused me such pleasure in seeing you thusly that I wonder if you would like a dozen flies or so." A very small shake of the head, no.
By now, I am completely swamped and I'm sliding along the bottom, but my neck and head are still out of the water. Somehow my hat, a propeller beanie, has floated off.
Smolt, my tiny vest pocket dog, has abandoned the vest and is standing on my head. Oleander, my vest pocket parrot, is standing on Smolt's head. So the three of us are slowly drifting past the maiden.
But she does seem amused for some strange reason. Her smile, very faint, can be seen. Oleander and Smolt are speechless. I can't think of anything to say either.
I get this rather stupid look on my face even though I am doing my best to look suave and handsome, even sexy, but it's tough when you have a parrot and a dog on your head and you are slowly being washed downstream. So, with tears, I wave goodbye just before I hit the white-water. I watched her throw a rose in the water and I am still wondering what that meant. Was it a sign? An invitatation? A rejection?
About 1/2 mile downstream from this incident, I was able to make it to the bank. Oleander and Smolt returned to their pockets in my vest.
I trudged back upriver and when I came to the log, she was gone. In her place was another rose. What? What? What?

Bob, the How Could I have bombed out?
:confused:
 
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