A lightly toasted and generously sauced WA crayfisherman was celebrating a friend’s birthday in a Northbridge apartment yesterday. After taking to the balcony to have a dart he spotted the most glorious things a crayfisherman can see – a mass migration of whites.
Kev could barely contain his excitement as a sea of white marched down the street. In his mind, it was unquestionably juvenile moulted crays beginning their journey to deeper waters and naturally, to his cray pots in due course. He was so pumped he ran inside with his lit dart to make the announcement.
“THE WHITES ARE RUNNING BOYS, THE WHITES ARE RUNNING“, he was heard running as he told partygoers they’d have to excuse him while he popped home to check all his gear was ready to rock ‘n roll. A mate at the soiree told The Times,
“We didn’t have the heart to tell him that it wasn’t the running of the whites, rather, it was the running of pretentious gourmet-cultist on their annual migration to feel more sophisticated than everyone else. I can see the confusion to be honest”
Alas, someone telling Kev that he was badly mistaken would’ve been an act of kindness as it transpired. As he received brutal mockery after posting a photo online of the migration and officially declaring the season open. An admin of the group described the reaction,
“We were pretty shocked to see the running of the whites start in Northbridge of all places. Usually happens in the ocean but it was a good photo. It wasn’t until an eagle-eyed follower spotted one of the juvenile crays carrying their own picnic shit that we realised Kev had been fooled. We really gave it to him after that”
In retrospect, Kev concedes he should’ve deployed a bit of critical thinking and not rushed to conclusions. After all, juvenile crays ditch their heavy shell for their march rather than pay too much money to picnic organisers for the honour of lugging all their own shit to the secret location. Juvenile crays are more clued in than that.
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