Go figure. In this country, people can pay big money to go fishing. Cow-orker just came back from a two-week tuna-fishing trip of SoCal.
Yeah, well once I heard of a woman who went on an overnight fishing trip with a boat full of men. She came back with a red snapper.
I lived next to a tuna fisherman in El Cajon (”So. CA’s heat-sink”).
He knew we had two cats (the girlfriend’s) and was nice enough to throw a big chunk of a tuna our way. I spent the best part of a day butchering and packing tuna into tupperware for freezing.
The felines did that twining around my legs-thing, yelling at me to hurry up, demanding tidbits ... I was a slave to cats.