Went fishing with the old man: the resident bassmaster in the family. He took me to all his favorite hot spots, but he was the only one on the fish.

In fact, I had just cast my line into the water to turn around to Dad reeling this one in. He feigned as if he was hung up and tried to play it off as if it were a stick. Truth be told, I think that had I just gone back to my own line, he might’ve just cut the line because he just can’t not catch fish. The man is that good.

In other news, Michael Clinard is the Son of a Biscuit Eater.