J’avais envoyé au Dude soi même une petite bafouille :
in order to get superstar flyfishermen to contribute to my humble blog, I cunningly devised a questionnaire, freely adapted from Proust’s famous one in order to make it fishing-relevant. I aptly call it the Proust-Walton questionnaire. would you be so kind as to look at it and maybe provide some answers? that would be swell indeed.
Et devinez quoi ? Ouais, c’est pas très dur, je l’ai déjà annoncé.
Mr. Sexyloops, la seule rock star du monde de la mouche, le Mick Jagger du flycasting. Pour vous sur g0ne. Exclu lulu.
The one and only patented Proust-Walton questionnaire:
If you were a river:
Mystery River X in Fiordland NZ.
If you were a fish:
A brown trout. A big one. And totally uncatchable. Actually I don’t want to be a fish.
If you were a way of fishing:
Anything on fly.
If you were a season:
Spring, Summer, Autumn or Summer. Depends on where I am. North America I like Autumn. NZ I like the Spring. Europe Summer and Autumn. Winters suck. I can’t imagine being a season however.
If you were a fly:
A virtue you admire in a fisherman:
We never lie about our catches.
A virtue you admire in a fish:
Fish don’t have virtues.
Your most ancient/beautiful/terrible/atrocious/surprising fishing story:
Phew. I once landed a fly I had lost three days earlier out of a BC river. I still have it; it’s a magic fly. Or, maybe: while gorge fishing in NZ I got washed down the same crossing four times, each time back into my own bank, before running a set of whitewater rapids. Ancient? Fish time I fell in was while enthusiastically trying to net a 2-inch stickleback. Terrible? I lost an absolutely enormous fish one mouse year from Mystery River X – ended up running through a log jam before spooling me. I realise that these are all different stories, but for me they’re still one story!
Dès que j’ai cinq minutes, je vous traduis ça et je fais deux trois remarques spirituelles.