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April 20, 2007


"... Rapping at my chamber door ..."

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Jim: Poe Little Me

Once upon a Friday early, while I brushed my teeth so pearly,
And wished some long lost hair would grow once more.
While I scrubbed and thought of flossing, suddenly there came a bossing
Yell from someone rapping at my chamber door.
“Tis from the radio,” I mumbled, “Blaring outside my chamber door.
Only this, and nothing more.”

I swished with Mint Scope and I dared not hope
That the annoying stranger would leave or go away.
But the rapping grew stronger and I could stand it no longer,
So I grabbed a very large pistol and killed Dr. Dre.

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Jeff R.: Two Great Tastes...

When a raven goes a rapping
On a door with wings a-flapping
It's a knocker-knocking bird.

When it flutters, as it must,
And lands on a marble bust,
It's a Pallas perching knocker-knocking bird.

When it finally sounds it's 'Quork',
And it sounds like it can talk,
It's a quickly quoting Pallas perching knocker-knocking bird.

When the word that it's repeating
Sets your heart to rapid beating
It's a nevermoring quickly quoting Pallas perching knocker-knocking bird.

When, although you send it packing
It stays there, and keeps on yakking,
It's time to go find the shotgun.

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David: The Long Tunnel

Edgar’s eyes creaked open to confront the echoing, metallic pounding. He found himself in a claustrophobic, benighted chamber with only a diminutive rectangle of light before him.

“For the love of God,” Edgar mumbled, shivering from the aching cold. “Buried alive. I knew it.”

Metal clanked against metal, gas hissed news of its escape. The coffin split asunder, the top inexplicably falling away from him. Edgar realized he was standing upright in some manner of compartment whose lid now hung from the ceiling, pendulous, amid unimaginable technologies.

An indistinct mockery of a human form appeared in the breach. “Edgar?”


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Dave: Nevermore

It was a soft rap, a tapping at her bedroom door. 

Lana stretched languorously under the covers.  Hal was such a silly. It wasn't like he had to knock to come in the bedroom.  She chuckled in a whisper.

The rapping came again, louder.  Maybe it was Toby.  He sometimes got up at night, wanting Mommy.  She'd taught him to knock first, after that time he'd walked in on --

The rapping repeated.

Her eyes snapped open.  Memory had caught up with mind, and she remembered that Hal, and Toby, were both dead.  The firemen had pried open the car doors --


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