My cousin, tired of hearing me crow about this hot-spot for catfish I found tucked in near the islands at Texoma, agreed to drive there if I'd reveal the location. We arrive and to my relief began catching fish steadily. He is putting away a beer every 10 minutes or so and quickly gets drunk. He then rummages in his tackle box and comes out with a white tub of Uncle so-and-so's Catfish dip bait. It looked like feces pureed in olive oil and smelled so bad I shouted in protest from over 10 feet away. He globs this horrible concoction over a piece of chicken liver already on his treble hook and shakily stands up holding his rod. He wanted to be careful casting it as to not fling the crap off his hook, so he slowly rared back and paused before throwing it. Unfortunately, wind blew the swaying bait against the back of his white shirt as he stood there, leaving a long skid mark. He casted it and after a few more beers, we both forgot about the shirt. We got hungry later and decided to head in to the marina to grab a burger. He let me out at the dock to go order while he secured the boat. I enter this slightly upscale restaurant/bar and realize there are lots and lots of very hot chicks standing at the bar hanging out. I placed the order and within minutes was having a nice chat with one of them about what I was doing at the lake, where I was from, etc, etc... That's when I heard a muffled BAM! as my cousin tried to enter in through the out door. Oh god, I thought, please no. He regained his composure somewhat and pulled the door open, surveiled the scene, spots me, breaks into a goofy grin, and walks over to where I stood. Immediately it smelled like dirty-diaper. He was oblivious to his odor and I noticed the people behind him looking at the back of his shirt. He started talking to this girl and would not shut up long enough for me to have a quiet aside with him about his offensive smell and crap stained garments. Thankfully our bagged up food arrived, so I beat a hasty exit. He wanted to linger though, and was slow to follow. As soon as we got outside I told him he smelled like he crapped his pants and looked like he used his shirt to clean it up. He was mortified then, but were both laughing about it before we got home.
