Once upon a Tuesday dreary, while I floundered, weak and weary,

Over many a taint 3 oz or 5 oz poor —
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently crapping, crapping outside my chamber door.
“’Tis dat Poe,” I muttered, “fapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the hot June weather;

And each complimentary oyster cracker wrought its crumb upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my bowl surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the superior Gold Star—
For the onion and bean-topped noodles whom the Buckeyes named Gold Star—
Nameless here for evermore.

Skyline, you're ain't all that.

Additional discussion topics may include:

- An emotional pilgrimage to the jungle. Kinda.

- How to replace your window AC unit with high end surround sound

- Multiplication table learning tips! No, really!

- Ball pits, squid ink, chili shockers...which of these things did we taste?

- A lit bit of that hard p

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