eat shad....cut, whole, or live. eat tilapia...cut, whole, or live. eat perch...cut, whole, or live. eat stink bait...cut, whole, or live. eat baby copperheads. eat deer tongues. eat deer neck meat. bite at night. bite in the morning. bite during the day. bite between 5:47 pm and 6:47 pm, 10:47 pm and 11:47 pm, 5:46 am and 6:46 am. during high water. during low water. during no water. during too much water. are smarter than an almanac. are smarter than me. are not even in the river. are in the river and just don't like me. I think I hate fishing. I think the fish in the Brazos spoke with the fish in the Colorado, the slough, the bayous, and anyhwere else I may contemplate fishing. Apparently I am allowed no more than a half dozen fish per 3 1/2 month period, of which, I have fished every weekend (sometimes twice) and at least once during the week. At least two hours at a time every time I go. Trotlining is out of the question now. There is no way in hell I am going to hassle out a trotline, from a kayak, just to check it then take it up with no fish to show for it. I think those monster water releases from Whitney and/or Granbury and/or Possum Kingdom have killed fishing in the Brazos coastal area. I think that if I have one more stupid fruitless expedition I will chalk it up to my insanity and retire permanently. This has gone far beyond the joy of outdoors and the love of nature and serenity. It isn't very serene in my head with all the mental profanity and growling on the inside. It is no longer a hobby. Hobbies are for fun. This is more like an addiction to something I don't enjoy anymore. Kind of like....working. Fishing should not be work. I have cleaned exactly TWO FISH with my new electric knife I got for Christmas. End of rant.