Anonymous ID: 6aacea Oct. 1, 2023, 10:47 p.m. No.19649485   ๐Ÿ—„๏ธ.is ๐Ÿ”—kun   >>9512 >>9524

>>19649464

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

'''A Special Tribute to Sunday Night Graveyard Baker & Anons'

(to the Tune of the Gilligans Island)

 

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,

A tale of a fateful bread

That started after the midnight hour

From a tiny 3-post bread.

 

The graveyard shift is a slow one, lads

It's not for the faint of heart

But Sunday night is a special fright

For it's the day 'fore the Monday 'mart.

 

But a doughty band of anons brave

Their duty not to shirk,

Stayed with the Board, though they couldn't afford

To miss Monday morning work (Monday morning work).

 

Oh what can we do for these winsome souls?

Who would sacrifice their sleep?

Baker gave a sigh as matins drew nigh

And the mists began to creep (mists began to creep).

 

"It sticks in my craw that the dough's still raw

And the hours are growing long,

"Well, lads come here, I've got a word to share,"

It's "seven fifty-one" (751).

 

The anons knew what they must do

Their eyes took on a gleam

Each dug into his big-gest stash

Of shitposts, jokes and memes (etc)

 

As the kitchen warmed, the dough it formed

In the shape of a crispy bun

As pretty soon, they'd all attuned

to seven-fifty one (751).

 

As the posts raced by, that bread did fly

Right up to the clouds in the sky

There aloft it sat, like a French cravat

Where only the eagles fly.

 

So this is the tale of anons who

Made a bread both light and fun

As they all cogitated, on a number as they waited for

Seven fifty-one (751).