Sunday, May 29, 2011

Wrinkleneck 22 and the most epic post in FGFF history.

The day had started innocently enough and a medium-fat rain precipitated as the car tent was erected. At the time I appreciated the weather and contribute the unusual number of people willing to help assemble the canopy to an urge to mooch a dry spot while at the same time receiving a gold star for helping.

Wet wood was gathered and split, and the fire was lit with the help of some purloined generator gasoline which resulted in only minor casualties including but not limited to a few shoelace fuzzies and one nalgene bottle worth of hose water.

The afternoon wandered off but the clouds loitered.  The intermittent rain became mixed with enough sleet and hail to harass the burning pine in the washtub fireplace, sizzling and pinging on the coated steel.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

shit happened.

Oh boy.

Stay tuned.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

go time

It's here. Again. And I am ready. Have been ready, it feels, for too long.

There is nothing worse than idle anticipation, having already done the shopping and packed the truck days before.

For the last 48 hours I have been wandering around aimlessly between the tying bench, the refrigerator and the gear room searching for anything to keep my eyes off the clock.

Tie some gaps in the trout boxes, make a drink, loiter in the yard, scratch myself, rearrange the contents of my bag. Repeat.

But now the time has come, my friends. The 22nd Annual Wrinkleneck Tournament is here and I am headed out tomorrow as early as I can stand, Kyle and Aaron heading out a little later in the day.

Time for Team Fat Guys to once again bring the pain.

-Alex who plans on bringing home the 1st place trophy again just to be a dick.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

screams and rending of paper

The dull thump of the mailbox lid generally evokes feelings of less-than-excitement. Even though I have a strange OCD about checking the box every time I walk by I am a firm believer that no-news-is-good-news so today when I heard the mailman's indifference in the yard I can't say I jumped out of my chair.

In fact I forgot all about the mail and it was hours later before a rumble in my gut lead me out of the house and into the carport to quest for sustenance. That's when I found it.

And it was good.

"This entire collection is my sermon on colors and textures, imbued with everything I hold sacred." - K. Barton 

-Alex who is impressed with the size of Mr. Barton's package and that which was contained within.

Sunday, May 08, 2011


For every mom where ever she may be,
Happy Mother's Day to you all.

Kyle- who just got off work and now going to see Mom.

Thursday, May 05, 2011


Lately at the vise I seem to have been a little distracted. With the days warming I have been occupied with tying large things. Wiggly things. Long, swimming things and things that pop and push water like a greasy fat kid on a water park slide...

...all the while neglecting the most basic necessities of any fresh water fly collection.

The bugger is a staple and most likely the first thing you shakily stumbled through on a borrowed vise, forgoing the whip-finish for just a big blob of superglue. Everything eats buggers. I am low on buggers.

Thing #1 - tying buggers.

I like this beer. I like the label and it reminds me of wholesome things; of clean soil that lives in the little dents and cracks of rocks worn smooth by ancient water, of fields of golden tall grass in the afternoon, of soft Midwestern sunsets that I have never seen but imagine are very beautiful.

I like the name. MOTHERSHIP. It has incalculably size and potential, pushing through the interstellar nothingness at two-third the speed of light.

At a predetermined date the flight computer will fire the auxiliary thrusters and rotate the craft one-hundred-and-eighty degrees to begin the deceleration burn. The main drives will fire for eight years, slowing the ship to running speed before the flight crew is woken to make preparations for entering your mouth.

It is tasty in my mouth. Especially with spring rolls.

Thing #2 - drinking beer.

I saw my neighbor talking to the mailman and felt sorry for the guy. My neighbor is lonely and ruthless in his quest for people to talk at and the poor mailman has no choice but to walk through the mans front yard six days a week. Easy prey.

He stands holding his little blind dog, slippers kicking around the dust telling you about residents in the neighborhood steeling money from the dresser draws of dead people, about his "nigger friends" because "that's how we used to say it down south", about how young folk can't name any of the supreme court justices and that people used to know things.

You nod and contribute the occasional "yeah" or "un huh" and think about the fact that the new issue of BloodKnot is out and you would like to check it out but you may never get the chance. You make your move and start slowly backing away towards the sanctity of your carport.

The Blue Collar Issue.

Thing #3 - reading BloodKnot.

Stick that in your schema and smoke it.

The End.

-Alex who needs to clean his bathroom but did all these things instead.

Sunday, May 01, 2011

on the good days it does.

There are probably things that I should tell you. There are also probably things that you would want to hear, that I can't say, won't tell you, or don't know. Not for sure.

We took a trip to a new place. A place where you could probably get down the hill with two wheel drive, but you better hope that transfer case engages if you want to get your ass home.

A place where the end of the road is your only hope and you don't have to walk quite so far to feel like you are truly out of the world...

...and it was good: