Shooting the Shit with Dad

Someone told me the other day he’d like to get together and shoot the shit with my old man

I didn’t want to tell the guy exactly what that would entail, but I’ll tell you

First, Dad would probably want to go fishing

So you’d have to go along, fishing

You’d also need two racks of beer

Per person

Make it Schmidt’s with the ducks and deer on the can

It’s cost effective, and has ducks and deer on the can

Then you’ll need a boat; Dad doesn’t fish from the shore

Why not take his boat: The Sea Deucer

Hold on and don’t vomit, Dad doesn’t like vomit on his Sea Deucer

So you cross the bar and get a mile or so from land at running speed

Smacking every wave like a spinal hammer, then slow to a troll

Get your worm wet, as Dad likes to say, and fish

Don’t you dare make a face baiting up your hooks with those smelly old herring corpses

Soaked in Dad’s piss

He’ll take a picture of your sour puss and show everyone later, or worse, turn the boat abruptly

I asked him once, “Dad, why do you piss on the bait? Does it disguise your scent?”

He said, “No, just the opposite. It adds my special scent! The fish love it!

Hell I should bottle it!”

At this point, Dad breaks out his handy-dandy porta-potty

It’s like a three-legged lawn chair with a hole in it

Sets it up like a tripod, spreads a big white plastic bag over the lid

Drops his pants and right there on the deck, about two feet away from you, he craps into it

Wipes with a herring or an empty cigarette box and he says some offbeat line like, “If it cost a nickel to shit

I’d have to puke,” or “It’s colder than brass knobs on a monkey!”

Then, for if nothing else, Dad has manners, he offers up the potty for anyone else

Who might feel the need to bare their ass on the deck of a boat and drop a cocoa anchor

Go ahead! Test your balance! Be careful if you do though. 

He’ll take a picture, or worse, for if nothing else Dad is consistent, turn the boat abruptly

No? You’ll crap later? That’s okay-fine

Dad removes the bag from the frame, ties it in a knot, throws it overboard, and on we troll 

While you check the line for obvious snags, he takes a short trip into the superstructure

Goes down in the hold and returns with, usually, a .7MM rifle or bigger

Raises the weapon to his cheek, sights in on the floating turd receptacle and cracks the first shot over your head

The bullet plows through the bag, blows it half to shit

This is where most rookies blow it

Don’t get greedy now, Dad hates greedy, you’ll get your chance to shoot the shit too, be patient

Relax, and take a Schmidt