Talkin' Shit About A Pretty Sunset

I'm not excited by many gifts.

Sure, I like getting a Henri Lloyd jacket or a gift certificate to West Marine now and again, but those who truly know me understand my base desires; since I was a little kid I've been obsessed with wall-mounted fish.

Now, I know that many people mourn the loss of our ocean's species, and lament the lack of man-eating sharks swimming about willy nilly; but there was a time when displaying your catch in all its glory on your wall was something commendable, and the open expanse of oceans was ours for the taking.

And for now, I'm sticking with the past.

When Jason opened his trunk to reveal my new wall-mounted barracuda that he got for $5 at a Germantown yard sale, I was like a ten-year-old again. I sprinted through the rain from his car to my apartment and felt like I was back in the 1980s---in my own world, clipping fish pictures from magazines and sticking them on my bedroom wall with Fun Tack.

And thank christ for mean-ass wives. Apparently, Jason bought the 'cuda from a poor fellow who'd paid $800 to have it mounted, only to have his shrew-wife tell him to get rid of it for peanuts at their end-of-summer yard sale.

How sad ... for him!! Ha! Sucker!!

I have a wife who's cool and let's me mount two (count 'em) fish in our apartment. Damn, I'm lucky.