Four hours on the lake yesterday and all I had to show for it is two little fish. So I took out the ten foot leather whip I keep in my tackle box, leaned over the edge of the boat, and gave the lake nine lashes. The lake was only due six or seven lashes, but I was particularly frustrated, so it got nine. Before the ancient Athenians did anything important, they's usually consult the oracle at Delphi. They didn't pray to Zeus like you might expect -- Zeus wasn't a benevolent guiding force for them -- Zeus was selfish. The central texas fishing forecast for tomorrow is better than it was yesterday, but the experience still leaves me wondering how much longer in life I can avoid that Schlitz Malt Liquor Bull -- and at what point my avoidance becomes as respected and noble as a virgin's honor.