It’s that time of the month here at MVF to award the prestigious “Pond Scum of the Month”. This month the award goes to “Barleyjuiceicous Overingestameoba”, or BO for short. Bo can be found all across this country as his target species of choice is usually catfish.
For any of us who have walked the shore of our favorite fishing hole at night in the warm summer months, we have run across BO. This particular species of pond scum makes his presence known and makes no attempt to conceal himself.
Often, he can be detected on the shore of a hundred acre lake just from the noise he is making as he loosens up for the evenings fishing. It usually only takes a six pack or so for the decibel level to rise to the point that it carries above everything else that is happening on any body of water.
Raucous laughter from him and his cohorts gets louder and louder as the barley juice continues to flow. This is generally followed by foul and/or obscene jokes as the volume escalates and the enunciation becomes more and more blurred. Yes, old BO is having a high time and needs to make sure that everyone within the city limits has no doubt about it.
Of course, before he gets really lubed, he sets up a half a dozen rods held by sticks that he found lying around the shore. The rods are neatly spaced about 10 feet apart and are usually taking up space in some of the best spots on the lake.
Approach With Caution
As you approach BO you’ll notice all the cans or bottles strewn around his area as he can’t seem to locate the trash can that is within spitting distance. The other characteristic that is unmistakable is the odor. Yes, he does indeed smell like a brewery and to come within 20 yards of him and get a whiff can curl your hair.
From here, it’s only a matter of time before he either nods off to sleep or in many cases, just flat passes out right there on shore. This is the time when BO, by his own hand, hastens his own demise. And by the way, there is nothing more comical than watching his undoing as he gets his beauty sleep.
Night Fishing
Night fishing usually requires a heightened sense of awareness which totally escapes BO. As he slips into dreamland, things are going on in the water that he just can’t fathom. For instance, the fish start getting active and biting. Now BO has his bait out there with his rods held in place by nothing but sticks. I have on more than a few occasions walked by just as one of BO’s rigs get hit and subsequently dragged into the water.
To watch that combo disappear under the water can only be truly appreciated in person. BO has no idea what is going on due to the fact that he is now in deep REM sleep and nothing short of a 357 magnum going off right next to his ear would begin to penetrate the fog he’s in.
The only thing funnier is when he does stir, only to realize after a prolonged period that involves counting several times over, that one or more of his rods are missing. Then the defecation hits the rotary oscillator, the four letter words fly at a cyclic rate that would shame the fastest repeating rifle and this stumbling, loud, smelly individual or individuals, often work themselves into a lather that is culminated by an unintended dip in the lake. I’m showing my age by saying this but, the Keystone Cops have nothing on BO!
In closing I have to say a couple of things about “Barleyjuiceicous Overingestameoba”. To begin with, I am happy that he exists almost exclusively as a shore clinging pond scum where they only thing he hurts is himself and of course his equipment. And secondly, I am not a tea-totaler and do enjoy an adult beverage from time to time but I prefer to wait until after the fishing is done and I can sit and relax at home without having to drive for a few hours.
Now there really isn’t a solution for BO other than to watch and enjoy as he eliminates himself my attrition.
See ya’ on the water …