http://www.noozhawk.com/images/uploads/0912GoletaPier540.JPG
That makes three for the summer.
My legend is woven from monofilament.
My fame is equal, round these parts at least,
To those guys who win fancy bass tournaments.
A handful of smelt swim round in my pail,
My goblet is filled with the finest brown ale.
My rod is my scepter, and a bird-poop covered bench my throne,
I’ll have to sharpen my fillet knife when I get home.
I am King of the Pier.
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