Tag Archives: Fishing

Something’s Fishy… And Also Gummy

If you teach men to fish

You’ll feed them forever,

But I find that sometimes

It’s a fruitless endeavor.

I taught fishing in Sweden

But to my dismay

They were still eating candy

The very next day.

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[Insert Fish Pun Here]

Give a man a fish,

You’ll feed him for a day

Unless that man’s a vegan

In which case his death’s okay.

But teach a man to fish

(Be him Vegan or otherwise)

And if he gets married he’ll be grateful

And he’ll think you very wise.

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Reel Me In Baby

When I’m with you

The sun shines brighter,

The water’s warmer,

My body’s lighter.

When I’m with you

I am flavorful, raw.

I just wish you’d get rid of

This hook in my jaw!

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Fishing Scams

I got a suspicious email

From Prince Magbar of Venezuasia

Saying “want to go fishing this Sunday?”

You can’t let emails like that faze ya.

I got another message

A week after the first.

“Dear friend, I must give you money

“Or I fear my spleen will burst.”

I finally blocked his messages

To no longer get that spam,

But only moments later

I questioned who I am

To deny a man with money-spleen

From going fishing with his dear friend.

I replied, guiltily, and we met by the lake

Where he tore out and ate my lungs. The end!

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Something’s Fishy

If I were a fish

Swimming in the sea

I would look around with wonder

At all the life surrounding me.

I would stare at hermit crabs,

Their houses on their backs.

I would delight in flounders

In the deepest ocean black.

I would gaze upon the lobsters

With their rubber banded claws,

And upon the mermaids

In their little seashell bras.

I’d make fish-eyes at swimmers

And I’d maybe speak in whale.

I’d kill eater rats in the basement

‘Til I could level-up my tail.

And then when I was happy,

Experienced and strong

I’d bite down on a hook

And string a fisherman along.

But after my escape

I would not foresee

That the fisherman was angry

And had some TNT.

And so my final moments

Would be flashy and gory.

As I toss the dynamite from my boat

I tell myself this story.

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The Fisherman’s Dilemna

They say I’m a workaholic

‘Cause I spend twelve hours a day

Away from Mabbs (my wife) and kids.

It’s the commercial fishing way.


Truth is, work gives me joy

That I just don’t get from Mabbs.

At work I catch the lobsters,

But with her I catch the crabs.

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