Our booty harvest was ample: 14.
They were upset and began tearing each other’s pinchers off. This made them net-easier to handle.
Shannon is a masterful fisherwoman. Wait, crabs are fish, right? They have gills. She can hunt the shit out of gill owners. I’m glad I don’t have gills. Well, sometimes. Like when gill-owner hunting is going on. Or when gill-owner boiling is going on.
… down, down, down and the steam went higher.
Table nearly set… one thing is missing!
Activate the garlic butter and then say “grace” in a combination of script and crab-charades.
Then we feast!
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Hoppy Birdy, big guy. And always remember: you are what you eat. At least, in my case…I eat crab and I get…well…crabby. And when I DON’T eat crabs, too. So it’s obviously all about crabs.
soooooooo jealous
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