Ole or Putz???

Drunk again

Ole staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy,
Swen. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Lena.

He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their
upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by
grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his
rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing
especially painful.

Managing not to yell, Ole sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in
the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding.

He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a
Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood. He then hid the now
almost empty box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.

In the morning, Ole woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and
Lena staring at him from across the room. She said, “You were drunk again
last night weren’t you Ole?”

Ole said, “Why you say such a mean t’ing?”

“Well,” Lena said, “it could be the open front door, it could be the broken
glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing
through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly it’s all
those Band-Aids stuck on the downstairs mirror.

Had to be Ole or the Band-Aids would have been on the Lutefisk!

Speaking of Lute…I’m glad you brought that up!

I went to the ice show today…don’t bother going…they didn’t have ANYTHING for catfishing!

Anyway…I’m walking along looking at the augers that you attach your drill too and I heard this ruckus behind me. I turn around to the consession stand and who do I see with an IDA hat on, a beer in on hand and “Boss of Putz” in the other.

I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count.

Yup! Sure’nuff, there he was, Mr Putz himself…chewing out this ity bitty tiny weenie counter girl.
I stepped over to see what was going on, and you could tell the BOP was embarressed…four shades of red and I didn’t even say “sup” yet.

Apparently they don’t serve boiled lute on a stick at Ice Show…after a little calming down BOP talked Putski into a brat with extra kraut and onions. I didn’t stick around too long, just long enough to get that lower lip to go back in and BOP to wink, giving me the “ok” signal that he was done with his tantrum.

Saw Scot Stiel over at the MarCum booth. It was neat. The had the Vexilars on one display and the MarCum’s on one fairly close together. You really couldn’t compair the units side by side…but you could compair the people’s interest. There was a TON of folks looking at the Vexilar line up…and TWO TONS looking at the $199. MarCum underwater camera’s and the LX-3TC and LX-5…

Saving my pennies Scot, I’m going to sell my 3 and upgrade to the 5.. Love that dual cone system!

BK, hard to believe the two of them created a fine piece of manliness such as myself, eh.

Don’t get me started on shopping with IamretiredandfeeltheneedtobethebossofsomebodyPutz.

I think the old fart just about got us kicked out of Home Depot when we were shopping for carpet for The Boss of Putz.

I am pretty sure the retail world would be a much better place for all if IaintyelledatanyoneinfourhoursandIneedafixPutz would just stay home.

Hey Dad, what are ya getting me for Christmas?

Who let the kid back on this forum?

I’m at the ice fishing show quietly standing by the deli, eating my burger and drinking my beer when this guy walks by with both hands in his pockets. I nicely introduce him to my wife and grandkids but before I could warn her, she shakes hands with him. When he left, I told her to immediately go wash her hands as you never know what kind of stinkbait was in those pockets. Then stories like the previous posts show up on the web. Shame. Shame.

Contrary to these posts, I am normally a pretty easy going laid back person. I only get grouchy if I haven’t killed something lately. Crickets, dandelions, pheasants, fish, whatever it takes to settle me down. It’s been 3 weeks since I shot a deer and I am starting to feel a little turmoil welling up inside as we speak. Yesterday I put out some ant poison in the basement and watched a few of the little critters die, but that was only a small temporary fix. I can feel the pressure building inside and an outpouring of verbal abuse may offer some relief. Think I’ll go shopping today.

Quote:

---

I’m at the ice fishing show quietly standing by the deli, eating my burger and drinking my beer when this guy walks by with both hands in his pockets. I nicely introduce him to my wife and grandkids but before I could warn her, she shakes hands with him. When he left, I told her to immediately go wash her hands as you never know what kind of stinkbait was in those pockets.

---

So B.O.P and the Grand Kids met Catten’ Addict?
Hmmm, interesting. I didn’t hink he ice fished.

Yeah, those cat guys do kind of act and look the same, don’t they?

Hey, I wouldn’t be sniffing any of you guys’ fingers! Lutey, dip bait, all the same ingredients