My husband and I have a running joke. Whenever one of us makes a pithy and/or witty and/or stupid comment like "It sure is hot in Arkansas" or "This is my favorite swimming hole" or "I love ice cream," the standard reply is "Why don't you blog about it?"

We mean this in a snarky, sarcastic, Chuck Klosterman, Gen-X way, because that's how we are, but also because blogs are generally filled with funny and charming voices writing about the nothings of their daily lives. I don't mind this one bit if I love the person. In fact, I like to read about the children and pets and food choices of my friends and family. That's what our lives are made of (mostly)--a series of unrelated events culminating in death! (And I especially like to read about winning softball games when my nephew is on the team.)

This is all to say that from now on, when I hear or say: Why don't you blog about it? I'm going to do it, by gum.

So the first subject is worms and Bono's Bait Shop out on 65, towards Greenbrier. There's a pic of the sign some guy posted on Flickr here but I can't copy and paste it.

The shop was crawling with either super skinny or super fat guys--there was no in-between. The skinny ones were shirtless and Bono hisself was there and they were all standing around someone's minnow bucket, looking in like it was holding something besides fish. It wasn't. We wrote a two-dollar check for a container of Canadian nightcrawlers and headed out to go fishing.

And here's the part where my husband said, Why don't you blog about it?

The nightcrawlers sucked! Nightcrawlers are supposed to be big and fat and juicy. They're supposed to wiggle when you hook them so that you can feel their muscles struggling to escape your God-like grasp. They're supposed to swim for their lives. But these worms were skinny as angel hair pasta. Hell, we've found better worms dried up on the sidewalk. Worms are supposed to die trying to catch fish for you--drowning valiantly! These died when we impaled them. Pffft.

Bottom line: Bono might be an okay musician and ubiquitous humanitarian, but he don't know nothing about worms.

Disclaimer: it's not the same Bono!
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4 Response to Worms

June 30, 2009 at 7:32 PM

I'm surprised you guys don't have a worm farm yet. You could have put one in right next to the new septic system!

June 30, 2009 at 7:48 PM

I am also on a softball team. It is called The Homers and you used to be on it too. On Sunday we lost, but it was an honest game, fairly scored. I made a nice catch in the outfield, and entertained Bob Mielke greatly by using Borat quotes as cheers--"Great Success!"

As well, I got my pictures of our visit developed today. They are just like I remember it.

July 1, 2009 at 1:32 PM

your post reminded me of this:


July 5, 2009 at 7:22 PM

My favorite bait shop is on the way to Hot Springs. It's got this old coke machine out front. You put in quarters and out come the worms or crickets or whatever - just push the appropriate button.

It's important not to confuse it with the Pepsi machine next to it, though.

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