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The Raven Cafe
once upon a cafe dreary, while i coded weak and weary,
over many a quaint and curious kilobyte of forgotten code.
While I nodded, nearly crashing, suddenly there came a cracking,
As of some one gently hacking, hacking at my kernel's door.
`'Tis some cracker,' I muttered, `hacking at my kernel's door -
Only .ru, and nothing more.'
Ah distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak Portland November
and each seperate caffinated hipster pressed their boots upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the mocha; - vainly I had sought to soda
From teh cooler surcease of buzz - buzz for the lost barrista -