NFR Humor (No political jokes)

Non-fishing related
Did you ever hear the tale of the Indian chief who found a rattle snake dying from the cold at the top of a mountain? The snake pleaded with the chief to carry him down the mountain so he could get warm and recover and live. The good hearted chief took pity and took the snake down the mountain. There the snake gave him a deadly bite. The chief asked the rattler how he could do such an evil thing. The rattler replied, "you knew I was a rattle snake when you picked me up"! Moral: compassion should not outweigh common sense.
Just saying.
 
Most of you Baby Boomers out there know various ways to spell fish.

Many years ago, George Bernard Shaw figured out that "GHOTI" spells fish. Pronounce the GH as in laugh, the O as in women, the TI as in nation. It all adds up to "fish." This is only one of the absurdities of the English language. Other swell ways to spell fish:

PHUSI: pronounce the PH as in physice, the U as in busy, and the concluding SI as in pension.

FFESS: pronounce the FF as in off, the E as in pretty, and the double SS as in passion.

UGHYCE: pronounce the UGH as in enough, the Y as in hymm, and the CE as in ocean. The ocean if full of ughyces!

The preceding is from none other than Milford "Stanley" Poltroon, editor and publisher of the Wretched Mess News and How to Fish Good, circa 1971.
 
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Buzzy said:
My brother and would take turns towing a sled around the pasture when it snowed, the towing rig was a Honda 50 Trailbike. I have a scar from one of those days getting pulled behind the bike.
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I was a rider in a toboggan once, behind a Suzuki 90cc. Much mud and rocks mixed with snow being flung in my direction, I came to my senses and rolled off.
 
Buzzy said:
My brother and would take turns towing a sled around the pasture when it snowed, the towing rig was a Honda 50 Trailbike. I have a scar from one of those days getting pulled behind the bike.
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When I was a little kid in Vermont we lived way, way up a small, steep dirt road. After they plowed, but before they sanded, I'd go screaming down the road on my radio flyer metal rail sled. Maybe two miles! Then my dad would drive down in his jeep with chains on it and tow me back up the hill (not quite as fast as going down).
 
Buzzy said:
My brother and would take turns towing a sled around the pasture when it snowed, the towing rig was a Honda 50 Trailbike. I have a scar from one of those days getting pulled behind the bike.
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Ah memories of a daft youth. We did it on a sheet of hardboard being dragged round a grass field by a Land Rover hanging on for to the rope for dear life. We then tied the wood to the tow hook to go faster. Like water skiing if you took the outside on a turn it got a bit hairy re speed. With no control of our ‘ski’, the laws of physics meant we hit the outside every time. Great fun, totally daft and amazed no one got badly hurt.

Dave
 
In high school - around 1970, a group of us took one of those huge round coca cola metal signs up into the mountains. The sign was probably around six feet in diameter. We drove up some snowy mountain roads until we found the perfect spot. A gully coming down the mountain to the road and a place to park the car. 3 guys and 2 gals. We hauled that sign up the gully a good hundred yards and all of us climbed in and shoved off. The damn thing started spinning as it was going down and when we hit the first bump I was on the downhill side. I flew out and watched the giant saucer sled fly over me. I managed to stop myself and watched as it kept going. It was really moving and spinning like crazy. When it hit the gravel parking area one of the girls and the other two guys managed to get out of it. As it slid across the dry pavement the last girl managed to get out just before the sled went over the edge and off into oblivion. We looked down and couldn't even see it so it got left. The last girl that managed to get out of it lost a laced up hiking boot as she was disembarking and her boot went with the sled.
 
_WW_ said:
In high school - around 1970, a group of us took one of those huge round coca cola metal signs up into the mountains. The sign was probably around six feet in diameter. We drove up some snowy mountain roads until we found the perfect spot. A gully coming down the mountain to the road and a place to park the car. 3 guys and 2 gals. We hauled that sign up the gully a good hundred yards and all of us climbed in and shoved off. The damn thing started spinning as it was going down and when we hit the first bump I was on the downhill side. I flew out and watched the giant saucer sled fly over me. I managed to stop myself and watched as it kept going. It was really moving and spinning like crazy. When it hit the gravel parking area one of the girls and the other two guys managed to get out of it. As it slid across the dry pavement the last girl managed to get out just before the sled went over the edge and off into oblivion. We looked down and couldn't even see it so it got left. The last girl that managed to get out of it lost a laced up hiking boot as she was disembarking and her boot went with the sled.
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You are still alive. Wondering what the mortality rate of your group of five is today? That might be an interesting data point of potential life span of extreme sledding.
 
(Feeble storytelling take #27)
Circa 1961-2

I have a memory regarding riding on the back of one of dads road bikes. I had a paper route down 6th street that became to old highway along the Columbia river. The freeway section cutting through and over the slough to Lady’s Island had not been built and opened yet. The center section of the freeway bridge (150’ above the slough below)
was built but the highway connectors were not. There were 2 x 12 x 12’s laying on the bank end to the center bridge section. Me on the back hanging on for dear life- WTH he drives across on those boards-with me. No freakin’ wonder I have always had an inexplainable fear of heights.
this makes me reflect: My dad must have done a lot of dumb ass things in his life.
 
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