10 pathetic reasons to not go fishing
There are a million reasons to go – John Hannent covered his favorites last month, but reasons not to go? Pah!
1 'I need some space to think'
Just how do you know Terry? Can I call you Terry? The beauty of this is excuse is no-one can prove you wrong, except... Terry? He'll feel like 'Terry' when he swipes his PB from your pre-baited swim!
2 'I'd rather spend time with you dear
(In no-way to be confused with "I'd rather spend dear-time with you".) It's just a point-gathering exercise, which basically translates to "I could go, but I'd rather go next week... All of next week...
3 'I've got to work'
So your 'day's angling', your 'me-time', your 'man-hours', your 'peak-of-the-food-chain', your 'fart-pass' are sacrificed for a bit of white or blue-collar? You're having an affair, aren't you?
4 'The football's on'
Good man! She now knows you've two priorities. A third, snooker or darts perhaps, puts your good lady firmly in her place. Fourth place. If it was Eurovision and she was Switzerland (she looks like she's often Hungary), she'd be happy with that.
5 'My tackle's in a mess'
Cue endless happy tea or lager-soaked shed-hours sorting your toys out. Closely followed by a trip to the toyshop and a brown paper bag full of small plastic bits that costs fifty-knicker.
6 'I need a new challenge'
Well go find it. Tit.
7 'My gear's not up to it'
While we all know that the diameter of your butt-ring is directly representational of the width of your old-boy. And a tennis shirt with the colours of the Jamaican flag as trim is a passport to catches beyond your dreams, you're frankly being a bit of a twerp.
8 'They've been eaten by otters'
Good excuse, get ready to use it more and more. (sic)
9 'It's too cold'
Twin-skin, tri-skin, thermal skin, breathable skin, Aquatexx, Armatex, HydroTex, Goretex, Skee tex, Cemtex, Fleece, Thermal, lofting, filling, pilling, furring, hot water bottles, flasks, kettles, hand-warmers, Coleman, butane, Sealskin... Ya lily-livered faggot!
10 'It's too warm'
Just peruse a Thomas Cook catalogue to see how much five days of sunshine, on a bedchair beside a small pool full of German-strain fatties costs for a week. Now compare that to your syndicate ticket then I'll see you down the lake in 10 minutes.