"W. D. Grey" wrote in message
...
In article , Wolfgang
writes
Well, you know "fish stories."

Just about a month ago, I spent three glorious days fishing in the Great
Smoky Mountains of Tennessee and North Carolina in the company of three
splendid gentlemen, notorious habitués, one and all, of this
assemblage. I averaged about three fish per day,
I think.

So you were in Wayno-land eh?

Well, I was in the state of North Carolina. Looking at my World Atlas, I
see that the isle of Great Britain is about 581.43 miles, from Beachy Head,
southeast of London, to Cape Wrath in the northwest highlands of
Scotland......as the crow flies. North Carolina, from Nags Head on the
Atlantic coast to the the tri-state corner shared with Georgia and
Tennessee, is about 493.89. So, yeah, roughly.

Was he one of your companions perchance?

Sadly, I must report that he was not. Sadly, because although we have never
technically "fished" together, I have enjoyed his company (immensely) at
three or four of these gatherings, and he was definitely missed at this one.
The "gentlemen" referred to above were Messrs. Knight, Miller, and Vance.
This one was not slated to be a ROFFian get-together. It just happened that
a few people planned to be in the area at approximately the same time, and I
took advantage of the opportunity to avail myself of benefiting from their
good manners by showing up and counting on the justly famed southern
hospitality to keep from being summarily and forcibly ejected from the
premises. It works every time.

Wolfgang
on the other hand, the *******s caught all the fish, leaving me and my bum
left hind flipper to lurch along, whimpering pitifully (though, evidently,
not pitifully enough), in their wake.