Article: The fastidious catfisher.

You can always tell when long-time catfishermen are around. They smell. Who wouldn't, after handling such noxious concoctions as sun-dried chicken entrails, garlic cheese and dried blood, and fermented milo mixed with snuff? Maybe you shouldn't argue with success, but after years of enduring the awful stench of stinkbaits, I was ready to find a more refined way to take catfish.

My quest led me to a Mississippi gentleman who invited me to his favorite catfish hole.

"I don't have no catfish fishin' buddies," he said. "I'd admire to have your company." He added, "Just got to where I couldn't stand the smell" I accepted his invitation because my nose told me he ...

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