One time during an “outing” to my Marcom 40 acre plot of land (the one with the three ponds–two smallish, one largish), I was with Peanut, Gene, Preston, Okry, and Sherri Taylor (not sure how she came to tag along with us, but there she was, among us—providing eye candy. For she was so stunningly beautiful)

We were fishing in the ‘Big Pond.’

Guess what?

The fish weren’t biting.

We grew bored.

Peanut dropped a minnow into a bottle of Coors, handed it to me and said,

“Drink this down.”

And of course I did, minnow and all.

Then it got to be a game.

One by one, we all drank a minnow.

Sherri was the last, but what a trooper.

She drank a minnow too.

We kept drinking minnows.

Until we ran out of bait for our fishing excursion.

So we just left.

No point in fishing anymore, since we had consumed all the bait.