You might expect the whirring blades of a helicopter to spark concern or annoyance from animals in the vicinity. But for the reptilian residents of a crocodile farm, a low-flying chopper seemed to signal mating season.
“All of the big males got up and roared and bellowed up at the sky, and then after the helicopters left they mated like mad,” John Lever, owner of the Koorana Crocodile Farm in Queensland, Australia, told ABC.
I mean, who doesn’t do this?
Somebody needs to write a 70s Aussie pub-rock song from the point of view of a crocodile driven to a lustful frenzy by the sound of helicopters overhead
Croc Chopster.
Croc Chopster
by OpenAI Chat(Verse 1)
Well, down by the swamp, where the jukebox hums,
There’s a tale to be told ‘bout some crocs on the run,
They call him Croc Chopster, he’s the king of the marsh,
And when he starts a-rockin’, ain’t no gator can march.(Chorus)
Croc Chopster, he’s the croc with the plan,
He’ll make 'em snap, he’ll make ‘em dance in the sand,
Low-passing chopper, bringin’ the thrill,
As the crocs get groovy by the old watermill.(Verse 2)
Now, there’s Betty the croc, and there’s Johnny the Gator,
They’re all shufflin’ their feet, don’t wanna be a spectator,
The chopper’s a-comin’, its blades low and mean,
It’s the grooviest sight these reptiles have seen.(Chorus)
Croc Chopster, he’s the croc with the plan,
He’ll make 'em snap, he’ll make ‘em dance in the sand,
Low-passing chopper, bringin’ the thrill,
As the crocs get groovy by the old watermill.(Verse 3)
With a swish and a whoosh, and a mighty loud roar,
The chopper swoops down, and the crowd begs for more,
Croc Chopster’s movin’, shakin’ his tail,
His rhythm’s infectious, can’t help but set sail.(Chorus)
Croc Chopster, he’s the croc with the plan,
He’ll make 'em snap, he’ll make ‘em dance in the sand,
Low-passing chopper, bringin’ the thrill,
As the crocs get groovy by the old watermill.(Bridge)
They’re twistin’ and shoutin’, in the pale moonlight,
Croc Chopster’s in charge, and he’s doin’ it right,
The chopper’s the conductor, the swamp’s the stage,
As they dance through the night, it’s the reptile rage.(Verse 4)
In the heart of the swamp, under the stars’ gleam,
Croc Chopster’s the maestro of the crocodile dream,
So if you’re ever passin’, 'round the marshland tonight,
You’ll witness the magic of the croc’s dynamite.(Chorus)
Croc Chopster, he’s the croc with the plan,
He’ll make 'em snap, he’ll make ‘em dance in the sand,
Low-passing chopper, bringin’ the thrill,
As the crocs get groovy by the old watermill.Croc Chopster, the legend in the bayou’s groove,
In the '70s pub rock, they found their crocodile move,
With a chopper up high and the music so grand,
They’ll dance all night long in the swampy land.Well done! Bravo!
The glorious, roaring wings of Cupid doth stir the reptilian recesses of my brain and demand sound and action!
Here’s the strangest part of this story:
Saltwater crocodile farm
What?
I mean of all the livestock options in the world, you go with that?
Makes sense given they already live in the area. And we tried getting crocodile leather from the native population, nearly wiped em out.
