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RaPUNzel, RaPUNzel, let down your hair!

Called Darkside. Vented about the workplace and the database project. Learned about the fascinating and mighty properties of ctrl+alt+arrow. Engaged in war: I mentioned that when Darkside was in a truly foul mood, I remained very quiet. He commented that if it were that bad, there'd be a lot of ducks about. I replied that I'd be a silly goose to play chicken with him when he was feeling grouchy. War commenced. At a few points, we elicited groans or active screeching from the redhead.

Darkside: "They do say the pun is mightier than the sword."
Lunatic: "Aiiiiiiuuuuugh!"
hcolleen:"If it's making you make those noises, I don't want to hear it!"
Darkside: "But you're taking all the pun out of it!"
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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