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Ronan's report


Friday 19th August, 2011

This is a story of how it was not, it was not as bad as I imagined. It was not “Combat Fly Fishing” It was ugly dirty water. It was not rude fly fishermen from the BIG City. It was not overrun with entitled nimrods. It was not a ruined river, though this river recives way too much attention and love. It is the living stone of the mountains, the name of the river is in this sentence.

It was a great day with two fine gentlemen from The Calgary Hook and Hackle club ,Ivan and Ed. Ed proved to be the man with the right flies, and the plan, Ivan was the sport and I was the well I guess the Gille, or Gopher, lunch wrangler, comic relief, net boy, and the spoiler that caught the largest fish, (had to add that one Ed).

Had a great day guys will do it again any time, but you all carry your own lunches , by the way Ed, Ann loved your nuts! I will leave the rest of you to figure that one out.

Enjoy the two tales below, the first is an example of Zap in action not Stoats Zapp, but a bad Zap. The second is a lesson in life.

A Lame Spring Break

In 1969, Chuck Stroup, a student at North Dakota State University, had a problem: He couldn't afford to go to Florida for spring break. So he cooked up a scheme to get his classmates to stay in the area, and promoted a local town named Zap as the hip place for everyone to go. Stroup took out an ad in the school paper for his party, which he dubbed "The Zip to Zap Grand Festival of Love." An article in the same paper later proclaimed that "a full program of orgies, brawls, freakouts and arrests is being planned." And, just like that, it was on.

You haven't lived until you've had a quiet country orgy.

Stroup was successful beyond his wildest dreams. The Associated Press picked up the story, and Zap actually did become the go-to destination for students in the Midwest. The local businesses, naturally, wagged their tails and started stockpiling on beer and burgers.

Bust has never seemed like such an option.

The Riot:

But Stroup hadn't really thought his venue through. Zap was a mining town of 250 residents, in the middle of goddamn nowhere, with temperatures routinely falling below freezing during spring. It also sported a grand total of two taverns. Now, insert several thousands of thirsty, horny students in the equation and see if you can spot the problem. The hordes of students drained all beer and food within the first day and were soon stuck camping outside, in freezing temperatures. It's like Woodstock, only less Hendrix and more peeling your lips away from beer bottles. Reasonably, they wanted to keep warm. Less reasonably, they did so by tearing down a building and using it to light a giant bonfire in the middle of Main Street. They then proceeded to use the entire town as a makeshift toilet, urinating and vomiting wherever they damn well pleased.

The Summer of Love, now with riot police!

The townspeople and the mayor, who had welcomed the students earlier that very day, politely asked them to leave. The majority politely complied. A significant minority decided to destroy the town instead. The mob first took out their ire on the bars that failed to meet their partying needs. Then, they turned to other business establishments. They left no stone unturned -- or thrown -- and many buildings were hit so bad that they later had to be demolished.

The local police force, presumably consisting entirely of Frances McDormand and armed with polite suggestions, was powerless against the rioters.

"Well, gee, we could really use some gosh darn help here, don'cha know?"

Zap would probably have been completely annihilated if the state militia hadn't been called in. No one ever went to a party planned by Chuck Stroup ever again.

A life lesson

A married couple went to the hospital to have their baby delivered.

Upon their arrival, the doctor said that the hospital was testing an amazing new high-tech machine that would transfer a portion of the mother's labour pain to the baby's father. He asked if they were interested. Both said they were very much in favour of it.

The doctor set the pain transfer to 10% for starters, explaining that even 10% was probably more pain than the father had ever experienced before. But as the labour progressed, the husband felt fine and asked the doctor to go ahead and kick it up a notch. The doctor then adjusted the machine to 20% pain transfer. The husband was still feeling fine. The doctor then checked the husband's blood pressure and was amazed at how well he was doing.

At this point they decided to try for 50%. The husband continued to feel quite well. Since the pain transfer was obviously helping the wife considerably, the husband encouraged the doctor to transfer ALL the pain to him.

The wife delivered a healthy baby with virtually no pain and the husband had experienced none. She and her husband were ecstatic.

When they got home they found the milkman dead on the porch.


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