After eating, I wanted to blame the woman’s cooking on how ill I felt, I was stubborn. I didn’t want to admit that it was the fishily wishily. How could I? Am I not a man?! It took me fifteen seconds to grab a line onto the fish…fifteen seconds. In my day we had to sit around that lake for a good thirty, forty seconds in our bare feet with Saturday morning cartoons on for god’s sake. It was destiny that had leaded fishily wishily to my fishing line. Destiny I tell you! Though, I digress.

My food poisoning was not in vain. It is a sign. An omen if you will. As god as my witness, I shall tell all who fish at Camp Anawanna Lake, not to eat the fishily wishilies. I shall overcome!



Power to the fishily wishily! I shall start the enlightenment where it is needed most…Camp Anawanna Lake.

As I approached Camp Anawanna Lake, I’ve seen a faint figure pointing toward the deep frosty water. I raced to speak with him. I must inform him not to spoil the Lake any longer with lines of barbaric razor sharp hooks to string along helpless fishily wishilies. “Stop” I said, with a monstrous tone. “This is a secrete lake. A lake where many generations of bored children and stoned teenagers fish for a few moments and grow bored.” The man gawked at me in confusion. “You may indulge in catching the fish,” I mumbled, ”even count how many you catch and out number your friend, but when you are done, put them back into the lake. Never eat them.” The man stared deeper into my eyes as if I had treaded on uncharted ground.



“Are you stupid my boy?” he said with disgust. “This here lake is a toxic waste dump. Has been for…I’d say twenty years.” I felt sick once again. “Besides, it’s just a board game; you stupid kid.”

Yay! That was fun. Eh! Well, it was for me. One can’t write too much about a board game that really only lasts a few minutes and will inevitably be thrown into the corner of ones room. The game is classic, but can seriously take the title board game out of context…bored game. Bad joke. The damn thing gets 2 out of 4.