from The Century Dictionary.
- noun A catfish, Leptops olivaris. See
from the GNU version of the Collaborative International Dictionary of English.
- noun A large catfish (
Pylodictus olivaris, formerly Leptops olivaris) of the central U. S. having a flattened head and projecting jaw.
from Wiktionary, Creative Commons Attribution/Share-Alike License.
- noun A
catfish, Ameiurus natalis, nativeto the Mississippi Delta, especially the yellow bullhead
- noun A much larger catfish, Leptops olivaris.
from WordNet 3.0 Copyright 2006 by Princeton University. All rights reserved.
- noun flesh of scaleless food fish of the southern United States; often farmed
- noun large catfish of central United States having a flattened head and projecting jaw
from Wiktionary, Creative Commons Attribution/Share-Alike License
Of course the shorter response to mudcat is a simple F-you buddy, we don’t need no stinkin’ elitist experts on non elite voters we need better policy outreach and if mudcat’s writing at the swamp is any sign of it he is not the man to do it. aimai rea Says:
"mudcat" hates democrats of all stripes, it seems, unless they are somehow "pure" and "of the heartland". that's the same kind of bias we see in the republican party. why do we have "de facto" republicans or people who at least think like republicans running democratic campaigns?
Fuck “mudcat” saunders and his fake conrpone populism.
I'd say mudcat hit a little close to home with liberal bloggers given the way they've went batshit over his remarks.
First Edwards and his mudcat, now Obama and * his* staff ...
Mudcat and his supporters here have postulated that if mudcat can bring X number of non democratic leaning voters to the polls in some hypothetical rural southern state that that would more than make up for pissing off an identical number of rich, intellectual, opera loving, ingternet using, reliably democratic voting urban elites.
When Stan Hagensick boated a 74-pound, state-record flathead catfish here last spring, he didn't just land a monster mudcat; he cemented La Crosse's reputation as a Midwestern fishing hotspot.
When I was a boy, my brother and I would trap them with our straw hats, bait our trotline with them at sunset and string it between two abandoned oil platforms, and in the morning the line would be so taut and heavy with mudcat that it would take both of us to lift it clear of the water.
I went out on the dock where Batist was cleaning a string of mudcat in a pan of water.
We ran crab traps and trotlines in the bay with our fathers, baited crawfish nets with bloody chunks of nutria meat, cleaned boxes of mudcat with knife and pliers, and never thought of it as work.