Oops...

On the Urban South Platte:

Police: Injured cyclist not the victim of a 'booby trap'

DENVER - A cyclist - originally believed to have been involved in a clothesline accident described as a "booby trap" by EMTs - is now believed to have been the victim of a simple accident involving a fly fisherman.

...

"Due to the size of the fish, the reporting party had to walk down the hill to obtain his fish. As he was walking down the dirt hill and attempting to tighten his fish line, the bicyclist came down the bike path. The bicyclist's helmet grazed the fish line at that time, and the bicyclist removed his hand from the handlebars swatting the fish line. At that point, the reporting party believes he lost control, and that's when the victim fell off his bike," Raquel Lopez with the Denver Police Department said.

Coming soon to your local fly shop:

-Alex the Insensitive.

Enthusiastic corruption of the public good.

Mr. Smythe of fishingpoet.com had a couple video machines in Michigan. On these video machines, he took some videos, then passed the files along to Mr. Dunn and myself to put together our own edits.

Sit back, relax, and enjoy the goodness.



Word to your Marquette from AlexLandeen on Vimeo.



CRAZY IVAN from fishbeer on Vimeo.



Dunn. Landeen. Smythe. Looking for fish. from fishingpoet on Vimeo.


-Alex who is pretty sure that this level of videographic awesomeness has ever existed in one place before.

Hope you enjoy your fly juice extra pulpy.

I am proud to be a part of the soon-to-be-released e-book Pulp Fly. This electronic pile of fishy goodness may, in fact, be the most unique thing to be released into the fly fishing inderwebs since forever. Don't believe me? Well, you will just have to take a look for yourself after the release on Amazon on April 1st.

This little jewel also features the literary stylings of Pete McDonald, Matt Dunn, Matt Smythe, Bruce Smithhammer, Ralph Bartholdt, Alex Cerveniak, Bjorn Stromeness, Michael Gracie, and Davin Ebanks.

All stars, all of them.

Awesome.

For more information on the book visit PulpFly.com, and visit the Facebook Page.

TFM Groping

It is kinda like TFM spotting, but instead of having someone take a photo of you sporting the shirt, you drink a lot of alcohol and then fondle/molest someone wearing one.

I, in fact, have this contest won forever because I started at the top, the highest level, the peak of the mountain with the Man Cam himself. It's like spelling Chuck Norris in scrabble. You win for life.

-Alex who was thinking about stealing one of those onion rings so hard.

no time.

I have no time. No time to tell you about the awesomeness that was. No time to tell you about the awesomeness that will be. Just no time.

Let me relax. Let me sit on the couch and watch DVR things. Let me climb into bed without thinking about time. Please.

Not gonna happen, bro. Suck it up and get your shit re-packed, bro. Get back on the road. Hows the shoulder? Hows the finger? Doesn't matter. Don't be a pussy.

No rest for the fishy.

Matt Dunn took this photo and the coolness is undeniable.

-Alex who will be late to the PM post party due to large amounts of extra awesomeness, but promises not to disappoint when the time comes.

I found your pet, Now where is my reward?

Aaron and I had to hit up a a little known spot for fish not caught too often by the fly angler.

And this time it was legal.

This close to St. Paddy's day we hoped, with no luck, they would crap some gold bars... we are still broke.













-Kyle, who loves pond fishing

Black.

Very excite, yes?

I have inside information. I can't tell you, because that would be cheating and potentially damaging to the parties involved, so I will leave it at that and just sit here feeling that little smugness that develops when you know things.

There are particulars that I can talk about, though. One is how Mr. Dunn has hung up his thirdcoastfly hat, in pursuit of other hats just as delicious, which may or may not have to do with that other thing I am not at liberty to talk about, but definitely has nothing to do with the appending storm of awesomeness that will be the Dunn-Smythe-Landeen Category 5 epicness about to befall the Great Lakes State.

I am excited to show how much suck can be snap-t'ed from a two-hander.
I am excited to drink beer and be educated.
I am excited to be poetried at.
I am excited to wreck someone else's kitchen in the pursuit of culinary perfection.
I am excited to cook bacon.
I am excited to eat bacon.
I am excited to feel how cold the water is that leaks through the hole in my waders.
I am excited to buy new waders.
I am excited to see the Pere Marquette, the jewel of western Michican.
I am excited to meet interesting and stimulating people of the midwest culture and fish with them.
I am excited to be the first kid on my block with a confirmed eat.

I don't even know what I should be doing right now. I could tie a silly fly. I could drink another drink. I could walk back into the kitchen and realize that there is nothing in the fridge that can dampen the hunger in my gut. The rumble. The tremor that develops in the days before history is made. The quake that opens your eyes before the sun and whispers sweet nothings about friends and fish and boats and waters and beers that punch you in the balls and writhe and flail and scream and pray for more.

It should be a week. It should be a month, or tomorrow. It should be closer than it is but time has a funny way of always moving at the same speed even if it feels like forever and an instant.

It's just one more experience to be placed in the jar on the dusty shelf of life. Just one more happening that matters only to a select few, as important as the creation of the universe, as impotent as a good story never told.

As least you wont have to worry about that. I might even take a pic or two while there.

-Alex who is very excite, yes?