Henry Beige
Gold Member
- Joined
- Jun 1, 2015
- Messages
- 3,745
This old Finlander* goes out on the ice with his ice auger. He just starts to take him a hole there when he hears this booming voice:
“THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE”
So he takes and moves down about twenty-five, thirty feet and starts another hole:
“THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE.”
He looks up uncertainly toward the sound:
“Iss...iss dat you, God?
“THIS IS THE ARENA MANAGEMENT. THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE.”
*Finlander: A rustic gentleman of Finnish-American extraction residing in northern Minnesota, Wisconsin, or Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.
“THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE”
So he takes and moves down about twenty-five, thirty feet and starts another hole:
“THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE.”
He looks up uncertainly toward the sound:
“Iss...iss dat you, God?
“THIS IS THE ARENA MANAGEMENT. THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE.”
*Finlander: A rustic gentleman of Finnish-American extraction residing in northern Minnesota, Wisconsin, or Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.