I hate being the seventh one! (TMI)

Last week I went on a fishing trip with my dad and several male relatives. We rented a houseboat and had a great 4 day weekend. Didn’t catch much fish, but it was a fantastic male bonding experience.

Being November, it can get pretty chilly out on the lake. We were having so much fun, we’d often turn in early and get up before sunrise. One night, we had tri-tip steaks for dinner. Wrapped in bacon left over from breakfast. And chili.

There is only one bathroom on the houseboat, and seven men with mild gastric distress. Being November, it can get pretty chilly out on the lake. All the windows were shut to keep the interior above 0 degrees Farenheit :wink: . Somehow I wound up being the last one to use the bathroom :eek: :frowning:

The bathroom had no fan. Someone along the line opened up the window, and just the same, it was like a stinky bathroom to the power of SIX. :eek:

Oh Dear, What can the matter be? Seven fisherman, locked in the lavatory. They
we’re there from Sunday to Saturday, nobody knew they were there… :eek:

The last young fisherman, poor Mr. Incubus, found himself trapped and could not get his nose free, but nobody cared he was there.

Creative use of ice fishing holes . . .

I worked on a tuna fishing boat back in the 70’s. 54 foot boat with 2 heads and 22 guys on board. Towards the end of the 7 day trip the skipper made a big pot of chicken and dumplings for dinner. The chicken was bad and gave everyone a serious case of the screaming meanies. At one point there was at least 10 guys hanging their butts over the side of the boat. We also had our best night fishing too. No one said chumming for tuna was illegal.