What’s up, slate winged hotties?

Oh, hey ladies! Don’t tell me I missed the mating flight … let me just get out of this shuck and thenĀ it is on. I’m going to rock your oviduct for the rest of your life, girl. Or 23 hours, whichever comes first. Shit! I’m stuck in this … hey! Don’t fly away! I’m just … twitching here … but I am totally gonna get all up on your cercii! Damn surface film. Well, I’m sure missing that subvaria orgy is the worst thing that will happen to me this afternoon …

Why does everything taste like IPA?









Fly anglers, let’s talk on-stream eyewear.

I am nearsighted. I am too lazy for contacts, and too chickenshit to get Lasik (as designated driver for my nearsighted wife, I watched Ms. Chili get Lasiked on CCTV at the optometrist – scared straight, kids). My night vision is actually quite good, and I can make the love without my glasses on (but the lights stay off, and I cry), but I am committed to a pursuit that requires excellent vision and depth perception, polarized lenses for seeing through the water, and protection from sunlight, and the prescription required by my weak-ass, cold-got-a-late-pass-from-natural-selection eyes precludes the wraparound shape of prescription sunglasses that the cool kids sport. I’ve tried plain old prescription sunglasses that didn’t wrap around, but the glare from the sides on a bright day made me so sad. Smith Optics be all Boston Butt smoked over post oak splits, Lenscrafters be all canned ham in the cafeteria.

Thank Texas Instruments purists, the Kim dynasty of the DPROK, and senior citizens everywhere for Fitovers. Continue reading

Guest post: an opinion upon a wet tye

From time to time, Just Nice Be Out is pleased to be able to offer its readership extended commentary from notable writers in the fields of fly fishing and innuendo.

I was told I had to shorten the title from the original draft, which was “In Which I Endeavor to Offer an Humble Opinion Upon a Particular Wet Tye, for Purposes of Edification and Discussion of my Fellow Flye-Anglers.”

Bon soir, compatriots in the Angling Arts, it is I, Sir Nigel New-Page. I beg a moment to shew you the Frewts borne upon the Tree of my evening’s labor (the wood was quite bent under their weight!).

I apologise to you most profusely for the blurry qualities inescapable when working in Daguerrotype (as evidenced by the date of the Broadside upon which mine tyes are at rest).

Here we have a full one-quarter of the jury referenced by Izaak (spiritual Father of all trouters, carpers, and squeezers of Milch-maids) ready to trye and hang a brace of our riparian quarry.

If the Brown & Brown tied by the proprietor of this Web-Log is the Messerschmitt 262 of early season wet fly Mid-western spring creek trout-angling, then it surely follows that the Partridge & Green is the Focke-Wolfe 190.

About the contributor
Sir Nigel New-Page is a sporting country gentleman from English antiquity currently residing in Wisconsin. This is his first post for Just Nice Be Out.

P to the G

Earlier in the evening I was on an urgent errand, listening to music out of keeping for a man of my age out shopping for 4 month Manchego and gluten-free waffles and the biggest piece of chocolate cake. Then I came home and got out the vise for the first time in 2012.

Oh, hello ass-end of winter. I can’t help but notice you don’t have any snow cover around here and you’ve left our locals what I can only assume is gin clear and spooky. And what’s up, early inland trout season in Wisconsin. Do you know about green Pearsall’s Gossamer Silk and whatnot? Well then let’s get down and across like a boss. Wait, what’s that you say, McClelland’s Highland? Peat reek? Say hey.

OG soft hackle hustla. Rooster necks up, partridges down. Gimme my fuckin shit … right now.