A girl said to me last week, “I'm not getting any younger”. She was talking about herself. She is TWENTY SIX for Christ's sake. None of us are getting any younger, so? Thank God I don't have a biological clock ticking away, that's all I can say. “You're not getting any younger” is a trick conservative people say to you to make you feel insecure. They never had a life of their own, never did anything interesting, and probably never will. They tell you, “You're not getting any younger”, not because they have some deep meaningful insight to life, but because they are boring. Well bugger that; I'm not getting any younger either and I'm just coming into MY PRIME.

It's weird how some people think they “peak” when they're young. Not me; I'm not peaking – not now, not ever. It's up all the way. And if you can't see that, then you may as well be a hundred and six. “I'm not getting any younger” – unbelievable.

So anyway, I've decided I'm going to grow my hair and become a hippy. “What has this to do with flyfishing?” you ask. In a word: camouflage. That's right: being bald is spooking fish and wearing a sarong over my head is a bit gay – although quite cool of course. So I'm going to grow some really long hair now. Not unlike Samson in fact. There's no middle ground when you're entering your prime – it's all or nothing, living out here on the edge, like I do.

It may take a while but I have lots of time. You know the problem with living for the future? You see yourself at fifty. Which is fine if you are fifty but completely useless if you're not. I'm not saying don't do anything worthwhile, quite the opposite in fact; if you're going to do it then give it everything and do it right now.

I started living for the future. I don't know what the hell happened there. Maybe it was the living in a city for two months that screwed with my head. Whatever, we learn from our mistakes and that was a big one. That's the last time I make that mistake again.

But yeah, I though maybe it would be nice to have a house, you know, one day. And it would be nice, that's true, but right now I'm living in a truck, fishing and running a website. I don't want to live in a house now and so that's all that matters.

“Oh but Paul, you're not getting any younger” – that's right dude; this is my prime. Anyone who tells you they're not getting any younger has peaked and you should ignore absolutely everything they say from that point on.

And therein lies my problem; the world is full of dull, unimaginative sheep. Bring out the lions – that's what I say.

So yeah, just had to put the world to rights, whilst sitting here in one of my sanctuaries. I've taken a few knocks this summer or “interesting lessons” as some would have it – that's right, I learned not to try to make a relationship work when it obviously doesn't and never ever live in a city. Good wholesome lessons those ones, I'm sure you'll agree. Although common sense alone should have put me straight.

This sanctuary business is interesting. I have a few of them dotted around New Zealand. Places where I can disappear and get back to me. They all have one thing in common; they are private, there is good running nearby, I can cast and fish no matter what the weather and there's lots of green nature. They're all special places. This one's near Hanmer Springs, which is a special place in itself. In fact it's a thermal resort.

Yeah, I need places like this.

So I have six weeks left in New Zealand, or something like that, depending on when Wild Bill Gammel wants me to arrive in Texas. In the next six weeks I'm going to nail every fucking fish in New Zealand. Not twice, since once is enough. And I'm going to shoot some more video. You may have enjoyed the Sexyloops' DVD, “The Instructor”, but the sequel, “Enlightenment” is going to be ten times better, because I'm really going for it. Hey, I'm not getting any younger; I think that's an important consideration. Not.

Erm, so to fishing!

Yes I have been. It's been quite good. Suspender Royal Wulffs have been working rather well. It's nice to catch fish on dries, properly. Most of the recent fishing has been truly superb. One shot, one cast. Last week I caught two browns both over six and now I feel ready to catch some big fish.

You know, like a fourteen pounder or something like that.

Oh yeah, and double handed casting sucks.

Paul