Well not really, he has a nice little cabin on horne lake, no running water or bathroom, dam I hate that one!!! ever since I saw that esposide of the X files with the monster in the crapper, well I don't like using portable potty
cause I have to check for eyes in the hole now :P Don't worry I have my axe with me. I am not gonna take any crap from a monster in the hole.
We had a nice fire on the beach, its right outside the cabin just about, but things ended up as they usually do
once he starts swiging the rum right out of bottle, he starts dancing around the fire, singing his dumb *** fishing songs, this time it was bad, I had to knock him to the water just to shut him up. You try listening to his singing.
Come all ye jolly listeners and hear me while I hum;
A story I will tell you of the salty fisherman.
From all the little rivers and inlets of the coast
He seems to like Pender Harbour to bum around the most.
Oh, early on a summer's morn when the breakers pound,
He eases from his greasy bunk and gazes all around.
The sky's a little cloudy and breezes fan the sea;
He crawls again into his cave, a breakfast for the flea.
Or he may crank his lemon and through the waters plough
To swing bull some and gossip over at the scow.
They never wash their carcasses; that's why they always drown;
The bilge, the grease, the weight of fleas always drag them down.
They wear their shirts until they rot and fall into the chuck;
Their feet stick out of rubber boots, their pants themselves could walk.
Most of them are lazy born; others say they're tired.
They walk a slow and shuffling gait as if their feet were mired.
Siwash bums, quarterbreeds, big Sweedes, Scots and Poles,
The scum of many different blends that should be on the coals.
One always smells a fisherman before he's seen or heard.
He leads a free and careless life; Oh, what a funny bird!
They tell you stories by the mile of fish that they have nailed;
They tell you of creatures of the deep and of the seas they've sailed.
Now, all you jolly listeners believe me if you can
It's all the truth I'm telling you, 'cause I'm a fisherman.
Christ he has a terrible singing voice, and the howling is a bit much to, later that night I heard him fighting with the portable potty monster. :P :P