When I was in my twenties (a long, long, long time ago), my brother-in-law used run a small-town catfish tournament. For about five years, my job at the tourney was to weigh the fish as they came in. I hate coming in contact with live fish (even when changing the water in the seven-year old’s fishbowl), so I still can’t explain how once a year I was okay with handling some of the ugliest fish in the sea, but I was, and I did.
Even though the tourney was pretty popular, most of the fish being brought to weigh-on were in the 8-12 pound range. I think the largest I saw while I was doing the weighing was a 17-pounder. Which was only 629 pounds lighter than this catfish.
Good God Almighty.
Update (11:04p): As a bonus, here are the lyrics to a related song. It's by the Philly band Marah, and while it's not one of my favorites by them, it's still pretty good and pretty funny. It's on my mp3 player, so I get to hear it every time I run.
I got my fat, sweet mama drop me off by the river
I got a joint, 3 Millers and 12 chicken livers
I got a spot 'neath the bridge by the expressway
where the freaks shoot dope and peddle their asses there baby
let me get on ...
I got lantern run on a battery power
I got a couple of friends coming by in a hour
I got a radio play blues, soul and funk
I only get one station, it's the one I want
let me get on ...
I got a couple of rods, they got tape where they broke
I got a bobber, some sinkers and 2 packs of smokes
I got the sun going down and the moon coming out
and it's 83 degrees and I'm pissing in the river
I got a buddy who swears he once caught a human head
I got a tackle box, smell like dead worms, baby
I got a sharp-ass blade 'cause a m*therf*cker wanna make trouble
with a catfisherman on a pile of rubble, I doubt it
come on, come on