Stickleback attack

This is a Stickleback, a type of fresh water fish. It is not to be confused with the horrible rock band, Nickelback, indigenous to Canada. I want to tell you a story about me and a Stickleback. But first I want to get sidetracked and rant about Nickelback. Now, to be fair, when I had my encounter with the Stickleback, it was dead and smelly, and it hurt me physically pretty bad. But honestly, I would gladly relive that experience over and over again ad infinitum, before willingly having to endure 30 seconds of any of Nickelback's songs. Perhaps I should have painted a picture of an ugly goat wearing a leather jacket and distressed jeans, because that is exactly what Nickleback's lead singer looks like. That would have been funny. 


I know, you think I'm going overboard with this, but which came first? Methed-out towny Heshers or Nickelback? What would strip-club-going, fake-tit-loving illiterates do without Nickelback? Frank Lloyd Wright once said, "The poor taste of the masses will destroy the world." Don't quote me on that quote. I heard it a long time ago. It's not verbatim I'm sure. But you get the spirit of it.

Anyhow, I used to live in Seattle. When it was warm enough I would walk down to Lake Washington and do a little swimming. One day during the middle of a rare heat spell, I went down to the lake to do just that. As I swam near the shore, I noticed a group of little kids garbed out in their cutest aquatic attire. Little arm floaters, tiny little flippers, swimming caps, goggles, and everything. The kids were egging each other on. They were amping up to get into the water. I decided to encourage them, "You can do it. The water is nice. There's nothing in here that can hurt you." Just then, I stepped on something sharp. I shrieked and swam towards the shore. Hopping on one foot through the shallows, I reached dry land. There, I saw a fish with a huge spike protruding from its back. The spike was going straight into my foot. I was horrified, but not as horrified as those poor little kids. Some were crying. Their parents rushed over to comfort them. None of the kids went into the water that day. Last I saw they were having Popsicles. Nobody offered me a Popsicle. I had to walk home. That was my first encounter with a Stickleback.