Much to our surprise Kenny Powers is an avid steelheader.
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Ummmm, where can I get my very own rubber shirt?
Those shirts are made from inner tubes. No fish slime gets through that fucking shit. I ordered it through my new lifestyle enhancement device online. Not telling where cause I don’t need you all cramping my style.
George Douglas is in the fly fishing hall of fame due to my patented inner tube shirt.
George Douglas, when my ass was 19 years old, I changed the face of professional baseball. I was handed the keys to the kingdom, multi-million dollar deals, endorsements. Everyone wanted a piece of my shit. Just a man with a mind for victory and an arm like a fucking cannon. But sometimes when you bring the thunder, you get lost in the storm…and by the way, you look like Shrek
Bullet proof tiger! and by the way, kenny powers still does not like children
Tight shirt….but the mullie he’s rockin’ is even tighter
Midwest steelheaders are so proud of their dark fish. Poor souls. Dude was just trying to thank his sponsors. Like Body Glove, Doritos and KFC.
Man, you guys are mean.
Apparently Kenny guides some of the finest industrial drainage ditches in the greater Cleveland area. He likes to pull plugs out of his sea doo.
BTW, I did not make that post above. Nonetheless, and although you may not be in the biz directly, the point from my last Letter from the Publisher stands true (apparently)…. here is an excerpt:
The fishing industry has pockets of guides, shop owners, and political figures who compete for control, fish, clients, land and monies. There are guides who compete with each other for pools—cliques of territorial guides who despise the newcomer—and the daily clash of styles amongst bank anglers. The list goes on and seeps into our fisheries, therefore, often creating an arena of competitiveness that can often clash with the beauty of the sport.
I’ve come to realize that unless we are representing our country on the national fly fishing team, excessive competitiveness does not belong in fishing, as it often leads to bad etiquette, bad attitudes, bad internet posts, bad vibes, bad business and bad fishing.
When we can remove ourselves from this toxic asylum, we are able to visualize the sport from afar, and, hopefully, rejuvenate our perspective by reverting back to a time when we first started fishing—a time when our passion was red-lined—the feeling of exploration charged through our hearts as we searched for trout and bass near our homes—the sense of achievement when we leaped from dancing bobbers to a dancing fly line—a simple time in our lives when the only pressure we had was to beat the dinner bell and be home on time. Back then when it was pure, untarnished, unwavering, and as innocent and sincere as a page in The Adventure’s of Tom Sawyer—That’s what I’m talking about.
Fkn A’ George Douglas, that’s some serious s#%$ and truth. But that’s why I play real sports, I don’t try to be the best at fishing
“‘real george” you are the man if you make it to the northwest i will personally show you around and take you fishing. I dont care what shirt you wear.
At least they didn’t nickname you “hedgehog” George