Urban Dictionary:
A catfish is someone who pretends to be someone they’re not using Facebook or other social media to create false identities, particularly to pursue deceptive online romances.
Example:”Did you hear how Dave got totally catfished last month?! The fox he thought he was talking to turned out to be a pervy guy from San Diego!”
or
“I was really falling for that gorgeous gal on Facebook, but she turned out to be a catfish.”
Categories: Max's Stories
Catfish: A freshwater or marine fish with whisker-like barbels round the mouth, typically bottom-dwelling.
Whatever did the poor guy do to get such a slang association?
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Good question. I don’t know how that term came to mean such a different thing. Although having barbels around your mouth doesn’t sound like much fun either.
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And I guess being a bottom-dweller doesn’t do much for your image!
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Are we still discussing things in the hypothetical or have you heard about my reputation with the ladies?
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In a brief moment of retrospective thought …………… diplomacy dictates that I do not answer. 🙂
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Max, you little devil, you! Too cute.
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As always with the Malt, Lois, the looks are deceiving.
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Who was Max trying to attract by pretending to be a pitbull? Some lady who wanted something more gentle and gentlemanly than a Malt? I remember the post you put up with his ‘displeased ‘ expression and his attack on the bed…pitbulls just fade into the distance faced with that.
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Max is very secretive about his online relationships. I am not sure he even admits to being neutered which would seem to be important information to be disclosed relatively early in a new relationship. I mean, I don’t disclose about being neutered either but as with other long-married guys, after darn near 40 years with the AJF most folks just assume that is the case by now. It’s good to see you back. We discussed your absence in the comments on the previous post and were making steps towards booking transport to Costa Rica by early next week.
In fact, I think Barbara has already left. It’s your fault.
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In my experience it usually is my fault…or so I am told.
I have been in Nicaragua in the company of delightful people who could not find their way out of a paper bag…heaven preserve me from becoming a tour guide! (Come to that, heaven preserve anyone from becoming a client of me as tour guide…they wouldn’t be following an umbrella, but legging it in fear of their lives.)
i look forward to meeting the rescue party….and will be arranging tours to exploding volcanoes, congregations of crocodiles and other charming attractions.
Food will be provided….of a sort…
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Well, there you are at last. I mentioned you in a book post and heard nothing……and then we mentioned you here and heard nothing…..and then I asked Kate at roughseas if she had heard from you and in her typically level-headed manner she advised that you would show up when you were good and ready. And clearly she was right. Of course it would have been nice if a certain favo(u)rite blogger had bothered to mention she was going away for a time. Not that we worry or anything.
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ÌOn to Boquete!
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Given the stalkers from Leo’s family nosing on the blog I don’t tend to advertise all that we do….if they were genuinely interested in his welfare they could telephone or e mail…but they prefer to spy through the keyhole.
The secret life of Max is fascinating, is it not….
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Stalking family members are, however, vulnerable to madly over the top fictional adventures should you be of such a mindset. Possibly you are not as wicked as I am and just wish they would go away which would make more sense. And YES. thank you for sending me to the secret life of Max.
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I can’t watch catfish shows–so uncomfortable! People are liars.
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…and now we find that Maltese also misrepresent themselves. It’s a tough world out there.
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You’re not even a real DOG??
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I have a cousin in Germany named Barbel. I guess the umlaut makes all the difference. Max, you little devil.
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We have a Barbel in our family tree but sadly we all took after his brother Dumbell.
Snorf, snorf.
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Uncle Kettle, Auntie Tinker and our favorite Cousin Dinner were all members of the Bel family, too. Somebody stop me.
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Groan….:)
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And I’m an eagle. #anddon’tyouforgetit.
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Wishful thinking, Kismet. Go back to your cage.
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The famous Arizona Freedom Eagle. I heard about you guys.
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Snort! Love the pit bull ‘catfish.’ That could have easily been an ex-husbnd’s ploy but that’s a whole different ball of wax. My son tells me it’s been in the upper 50’s in the mornings on the Big Island. You wear sweaters till noon? [wink]
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Even here in urban Honolulu, the belly button of Oahu, the nightly low is around 65 which causes us to bundle up. I wear a hoodie as I walk to/fro the gym in early morning.
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Gotta love Island ‘light-weighters’ she said as it had warmed up to a balmy 27 this morning. 🙂
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Points for trying Max! Jack Henry is still trying to figure out the keyboard 😉
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Both of my dogs are having trouble compiling their online profiles. Both of them are honest to a fault which means that Lady doesn’t know whether she should put herself down as Border Collie xCavalair King Charles Spaniel or the more elegant form: “Borderlair” and whether she should mention, what she only knows as some rumoured Blue Heeler blood. After his haircut, Bilbo doesn’t know whether he is fluffy or short-haired. He’s looking for a dog who knows how to chase sticks, not his tennis ball and has a few more brains cells than the gorgeous but not so smart Lady. He’s not a show off but he does like to point out the Border Collies are the world’s smartest dog and he can find Lady’s inability to learn new tricks a little tiring.
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