You need bait. Data scraped from the dark web, some email addresses, and phone numbers to try.

You want to cast a wide net. Phishing is a numbers game.

It’s better to start with the minnows and then move on to the whales. Tricking an employee to divulge secrets is easier than tricking the CEO.

Listen. The wind will tell you where to cast your rod.

Teach a man to phish, feed him for life. Phish a man, and he’ll feed you for a few days, at least.

Folding chairs, a cooler, and beers are mandatory for all phishing trips.

Phisherman’s vests, while not strictly required, do give you an air of authority.

A tacklebox? Are you fucking kidding me? No, you don’t need that.

Why are you wearing tie-dye?

What would make you think I’m talking about the band?

In the words of Thoreau, “Many men go phish-ing all of their lives without knowing that it is not Phish they are after. The endless noodling, the drugs… and what is up with all the tie-dyed everything?”

And the waders?

Oh, you were hedging your bets. Why didn’t you just ask me? Why prepare for two different trips?

You feel like you can’t ask me questions? That I criticize you? Christ almighty, we could’ve cleared this up with a five-minute phone call.

Yes, I want the blunt you rolled. Why wouldn’t I?

You thought that’s more of a Phish thing than a phishing thing? I thought it was universal.

You caught something? Reel it in! Let’s take a look.

Does the hook hurt? What are you smoking?

Throw it back. It was a bot. Maybe the “Nigerian prince” bait isn’t landing? Let’s try some “urgent account suspension” or “emergency email from CEO.” One of those will land us a big catch.