Wordbender

I was there during this event, and the manhood-defining rabbit attack, and all I can say is, Elton conducted himself with dignity, class and calm authority. Wordbender, News At 10 - lying like a bleddy flatfish.

Does my ancient brain let me down again, or was the original 'Monkey Man' done by Toots and the Maytals'? Vey, vey, important that we know, obviously.

Super stuff. More please.

What a fantastic, albeit slightly harrowing, tale. And I was worried about having a ruck with a few young bullocks. Roll on Part Two. Marvellous stuff.

Well told, well caught - well-jealous! Top work, Anderoo, and what a cracking fish. Inspirational stuff and no mistake.

This week, I have mainly been trotting a brace of maggots down chalk streams in Berkshire, a bit of the Kennet, and the Colne. Much has been learned, and every moment savoured. My Berkshire excursion produced exciting tussles with grayling and dace, plus some certifiable fights with rainbows and brownies. Yes, the trout were off-topic, but their mad rushes and aerobatics would force a grin from the most granite-faced of traditional gits. Today's mooch along the Colne produced eight chub (only three 'proper' ones, the rest below three pounds) but in the process I had a toe-to-hoof brawl with a herd of bullocks - with me flailing at them with a reed mace plant in a baseball bat stylie, plus dishing out the occasional left jab - but I lost that encounter and had to retreat before my tackle got trampled. I was a coward, bullied, beasted and bested, by a herd of cows. I winkled out the biggest fish of the day, at 4.5lbs, from a tiny stream, five feet wide and less than two feet deep, and I was picking up chub and chublets on a regular basis, until I found the barbel...or carp...or freshwater marlin for all I know. Four runs alongside a giant snag resulted in three lightning strikes and no chance whatsoever of even playing these fish, let alone landing them. My 4lb mainline was easily 6lb shy of the required breaking strain, so after the third attempt to engage failed within a few seconds, I fed the snag and left the fish to scoff themselves into a false sense of security. As a chap once grunted - I'll be back. The only downer of the day was watching squadrons of cormorants heading for local waters; wave after wave of the pointy buggers, bound for an inland feast of our coarse fish stocks. Something really does need to be done, chaps. My ESP bait pouch was a Godsend, allowing me to flick in a constant spatter of grubs with minimal effort, and this 'very little, but very often' baiting approach seemed to flick the switch in most of the productive swims. I used maggots exclusively, but I'll be blagging some paste mix secrets from my angling chums, and trying a whole range of baiting options before season's end. I finished the morning in a glorious state of knackerdom, with so many lessons learned and my fishing batteries fully-charged. I've got myself an angling pursuit that I can weave around my job, and one which holds unlimited promise for me. I'm a happy man today.

Ah that designer OCC brand, eh? Ultra-cult and no mistake, Budge old boy.

I would never fish a lake for tench, carp, bream or pike, without exploring for features with a marker rod. In fact, I'd rather use a single rod on a spot found and baited with the use of a marker, than to fish three rods 'blind'. My marker rod is absolutely vital to my specimen fishing and I wouldn't leave home without it.

Now Budgie, you know as well as I do that, unless all of your rods match, and they're of the most fashionable make and configuration, you simply won't catch. Frankly, I'm amazed that you would subscribe to any other mindset. Shocked, I am. Yes, shocked.

Calm down dear - it's only Chesters! I do believe the old chap is being a bit of a naughty pixie and playing the pantomime curmudgeon. After all, nobody could really be that bloody miserable and still appreciate our beloved fishing, could they? Tell me they couldn't.

'Sex with farm animals'? Chesters old chum, you are the very epitome of 'needs to get out more'. That stir-craziness has obviously led to some seriously dodgy thought processes. I prescribe a nice holiday, preferably overseas among friendly natives.

Ah the days of our forebears. How this nation must miss rickets, child labour, the Thames filled with invigorating sewage and the constant stimulation of avoiding plagues. Them wuz the days, eh Chesters? *Goes all misty-eyed and that...*

Doesn't that make fishing a bit tricky, though? I've seen the web and I've seen a fair bit of the world, and take it from me, Chesters, the web isn't the world, mate. Not even with best monitor and sound system, like, ever. 'soon you will be dead if your lucky all that money and recollections will be remembered til the instant you die but it still will be a waste of money after you shuffle of this mortal coil' Erm...isn't everything that brings fond recollection therefore a waste of money? Should we not bother having good times, because they're no use after we're dead? The inhabitants of Chesters World would make the Amish look like ravers, no? I always knew travel broadens the mind, but I was unaware that the opposite effect is also present. Party on, dude!

Or, as my extensive experience has shown me, they may not actually hate us at all? You are entitled to your views, Chester, but are you seriously suggesting that we should never go abroad and no one from overseas should visit us? Really? Blimey, that's a sad old state of affairs and no mistake. No marvelling at the northern lights after a day spent watching killer whales? No bobbing about in a Louisiana pirogue as the sun melts into the bayou, no Grand Canyon and the adjacent madness of Las Vegas, no Paris and the Louvre and absolutely no magnificent overseas memories to replay in my head for the rest of my life? Oh no, I don't fancy that life at all, mate. Is that really what you meant? Apologies if not.

Oh yes, I can't see that causing any grief, Ziggy. Well, some over-sensitive types may react with the odd baseball bat, but I'm sure the rest will take it in the right spirit.