Did I ever tell you about the first and only time I went fishing?
I was hanging around with a group of guys who suddenly decided to go fishing at Chinaman's Creek near Post Augusta in South Australia. I wasn't really interested but they encouraged me to join them and so I did.
For a while I just sat there and poked fun at their lack of success but eventually they gave me a rod and told to "try and do better."
So I stood on the creek bank and cast the line into the water - except it didn't go into the water. I had used too much force and the line sailed out across the creek and landed in a tree on the opposite bank.
I stripped off, swam across the creek, climbed up the tree, disentangled the line and threw it back in the water.
Then I climbed back down the tree, swam across the creek and clambered onto the bank.
I picked up the rod and bingo! First catch of the day. There was a fish on the end of my line!
My friends told me the fish I had caught was a "shitty" and not worth eating. They threw it back into the creek, but I spent the rest of the day telling them how good I was and how bad they were.
For some reason I was never invited to go fishing again.