I mean, everyone gathers round amicably and plays at being 'a good sport' and all, but when it comes right down to it, I've only got about twenty-two hours left until the bars close. True, they don't even open for another nine hours yet, as it is now five o'clock in the fucking morning, but if you disapprove of my intensity and dedication then you can fuck off. When you take life seriously, as do I, you need time to fucking prepare.

I was here, in the middle of this fucking miserable mud sludge that some overpaid fucking employee of the governmental topographic survey has now officially classified as "a fucking river", last Tuesday when that prick Ben Gazarra caught a huge fucking trout. No one was looking, so I knocked him in the temple with my cooler. He went down, and I had a lovely supper. Fucking cunt. I can't remember what shows he was in, but I'm sure they were crap. Cunt. It's like I was telling Cher last night. "If these fuckers want fucking fish, they should go to the fucking fish shop. I'm a fucking sportsman, and I take these things seriously. And if you ever cover another Walker Brothers tune I'll fucking kill you."

So I'm standing in the river, in these fucking dick-high rubber boots, and some asshole across the river starts fucking humming. He was too far away, and I was too drunk, to catch him in the face with a cast of my hook, so I wandered down stream a bit, circled back behind him, grabbed him by his pink fucking ears and took him under the water. He eventually quieted down, but he scared all the fucking fish away with his gasping and splashing. Seeing as he was now floating downstream, I decided to make my way upstream. I'd had enough distractions from that humming fucker. Bastard.

I found a nice spot further upstream, but as soon as I tried to really do some serious fishing I spotted some fucking campers on the far shore. Fucking college cunts. Young fucking hippy student assholes with tents and cell phones. I was fucking livid. They argued a bit, and tried to fight me off. Well, the guy did, but he shut his fucking mouth once I had filled it with a fucking tent post. That just left the girl, who just cried and rolled into a ball like those little armoured bugs. She was really quite sweet, not at all gristly, but by the time we were through the fucking sun was up and all the fish were gone.

Fucking bastards. I guess I'll have to come back tomorrow.
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