A Pointless
Passtime
by Stephen Philip Druce
A friend asked
me to go fishing with him. I told him I couldn't
see the point in fishing.
He told me
that was because I wasn't a fisherman.
I told him I
didn't want to be a fisherman.
He told me
that if I were a fisherman, I'd be able to see
the point in it.
I told him I
could never see the point in fishing - whether I
was a fisherman or not.
He told me
that because I wasn't a fisherman, I would never
see the point in fishing and that was his point.
I told him
that even if I were a fisherman, I could never
see the point in fishing - and that was my point.
He told me he
couldn't see my point.
I told him
that was because he was a fisherman.
He told me
that even if he wasn't a fisherman, he still
couldn't see my point.
I told him I
couldn't see his point.
He told me
that was because I wasn't a fisherman.
I told him I
didn't want to be a fisherman.
I finally
agreed to go fishing with him and caught a fish!!
-
it was 2.4 cm
x 1.2 cm big,
it had no teeth,
half a tail,
one eye and smelly,
it was a hideous colour,
it was shaped like a turd,
it had pissed itself,
it had a fish disease,
it was vomiting out of its asshole,
and it had a grumpy face too.
"seven
hours I've sat on this riverbank for that
pathetic specimen - what's the point?" I
said.
"Yeah I
see your point" he said.
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