Oh, you’ve GOT to be kidding me. The last acantho I bought was the Sparkling Pink Acantho back in May '24, and at this point, I’m pretty sure it’s qualified for AARP. I’ve been sitting here, like some crazed coral addict, drooling over my sandbed like it’s a barren wasteland, waiting for something epic to show up. But what do these stores keep throwing at me?
“Hey, want another mushroom?” Oh, sure, because I clearly need more tiny, colorful saucers flying around my tank like it’s about to host a rave. Look, I love my mushroom, but I want acanthos!!
And don’t even get me started on the gonipora. Yeah, they’re beautiful, but it’s not an acantho!!
Meanwhile, I’m sitting on this stack of cash, itching to make it rain on something actually worth the space in my tank, and I can’t find a single acantho to throw it at. Like, what do I have to do? Kidnap their best coral, hold it for ransom, and demand they bring me a top-tier acantho in exchange?
Here’s the note: “Dear WWC, TSA, and any decent acantho dealer in the country, this is not a drill. Either you deliver an acantho so epic it’ll make my sandbed look like the VIP section at an underwater nightclub, or I’m coming for all your high-end stock. I’m talking your prized chalices, your most expensive scoly — I’ll clean you out, and you’ll be left with nothing but bargain bin frags and tears. You’ve got until the holidays. Don’t disappoint me.”
I’m not out here looking for a few extra mushrooms and gonipora to fill space like some amateur — I want something that’ll turn my tank into the Mona Lisa of reefs, not a garage sale for discount corals. I need acanthos that will make mermaids cry and Poseidon himself bow down in envy.
And if these stores don’t deliver soon, I swear I’ll show up with a bullhorn and a giant sign that says, “NO ACANTHO, NO PEACE!” My sandbed is not here for a backyard coral BBQ, it’s here to be a freaking royal parade of underwater luxury. Let’s GO, stores — bring me the acantho that’ll make Neptune himself rethink his throne!
“Hey, want another mushroom?” Oh, sure, because I clearly need more tiny, colorful saucers flying around my tank like it’s about to host a rave. Look, I love my mushroom, but I want acanthos!!
And don’t even get me started on the gonipora. Yeah, they’re beautiful, but it’s not an acantho!!
Meanwhile, I’m sitting on this stack of cash, itching to make it rain on something actually worth the space in my tank, and I can’t find a single acantho to throw it at. Like, what do I have to do? Kidnap their best coral, hold it for ransom, and demand they bring me a top-tier acantho in exchange?
Here’s the note: “Dear WWC, TSA, and any decent acantho dealer in the country, this is not a drill. Either you deliver an acantho so epic it’ll make my sandbed look like the VIP section at an underwater nightclub, or I’m coming for all your high-end stock. I’m talking your prized chalices, your most expensive scoly — I’ll clean you out, and you’ll be left with nothing but bargain bin frags and tears. You’ve got until the holidays. Don’t disappoint me.”
I’m not out here looking for a few extra mushrooms and gonipora to fill space like some amateur — I want something that’ll turn my tank into the Mona Lisa of reefs, not a garage sale for discount corals. I need acanthos that will make mermaids cry and Poseidon himself bow down in envy.
And if these stores don’t deliver soon, I swear I’ll show up with a bullhorn and a giant sign that says, “NO ACANTHO, NO PEACE!” My sandbed is not here for a backyard coral BBQ, it’s here to be a freaking royal parade of underwater luxury. Let’s GO, stores — bring me the acantho that’ll make Neptune himself rethink his throne!