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Taylor Kitsch is having a rough morning.

The actor has pulled over to the side of a road in rural Montana, lamenting his lack of luck fly fishing by the river. He’s been casting by a spot near Yellowstone since the crack of dawn, with nothing to show for except some stressed rods and an empty stomach, so he’s decided to warm up in his car and sink his teeth into a sandwich, while pondering his next move.

“I’m absolute dog shit right now,” he sighs, as he signs onto a Zoom call with Rolling Stone . “Like three bites in two hours. So it’s a good time to take a breath.”

Something to ease the sting perhaps: the actor’s new campaign for Jefferson’

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