Dispatch from the Brownline South
Posted on March 9th, 2011
Get your creep on and move down the shoreline in a crouch, hiding your profile from the beast tucked into the limestone bank, and then your backcast freaks an iguana that dives headfirst into the water. Everything splits. People are watching you from the parking lot. Why do you even chase these things? They’re not supposed to be there and they invoke diatribes about evil and your role in it. You just like to watch them chase undulating feathers. Bag limit? Unlimited. Some people are into the killing, leaving carcasses as a warning to the others. Even though they have no cerebral cortex and are incapable of heeding threats or doing anything other than what they do. At least eat it, brother. Supposedly…
Tagged: dead snakeheads, snakehead
