Wurn't ment to be

This ain't my story, it's still funny to me. Good friend of mine has fine fish'n hole. Little mill pond, cypress trees and knees erry where. Great bream, shell cracker, crappie. No body fishes the place and its in a place where hundreds if not thousands of people a day pass by it. Anyways, I's suppose to go with'm, but couldn't. Him and another buddy decided they'd take the hour trip, cause they new they'd limit out(we always did). They were on the hway 'bout thirty minutes into the drive when they had a flat. Said it took'm all morn'n to get a ride 'cause they left 'fore light on a Saturday. Said he had plan to go for too long and came too far to stop. They headed to the store to git a tire. Ended up store did'n open til nine. Said they waited in the parking lot. They got the tire and a ride back. Said they got the tire on and took off again. 'bout fifteen more miles the other tire went flat. Said they was still gonna go, afterall thay's almost their. So, got a ride, got a tire, drove on.
They got to the mill pond pulled in the parking lot a and moved everthing in the boat. Other buddy walked down to the ramp to guide'm in. Other buddy said,"I looked at him and he's scratch'n his head. Didn't look good." So he backed on down to the ramp. He got out and saw why he's scratch'n his head. Said they didn't say anything just sat there look'n for 'bout ten fifteen. Then they realized the city had opened the spill way, let all the water out, except for the channel in the middle. Could'n access that with the boat, to muddy to walk to it. Said they sat on the dock in discust, ate their lunch and drove home.