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like shirt

Quite a bit. “Like” has overstepped its boundaries. It used to describe a state of affection, as in “I like Ike” or “I like bananas because they have no bones,” or as a comparison, “If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck, it’s a duck.” Those uses alone should be enough to keep any word happy.

But the next thing you know, “like” impinged on “as if/though” and “such as.” We like things on Facebook, causing “like” to morph into a noun as we count how many likes a page has. Most egregiously, “like” has eradicated such verbs as “said,” “thought,” or “felt,” among others. Hence comments along the lines of “She was like, ‘hi,’ and I was like, ‘What’s going on?'” Or, “I was like, oh my god.”

Thus my admittedly lame attempt to reinterpret Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven,” for a modern audience:

It was really late at night and I was texting and tweeting,
Updating my Facebook status and eating,
When some dude started tapping,
And rapping and shit on my bedroom door.
I was like, what the fuck, who the hell could be knocking this late,
‘Cause his fingers must be sore.
But that sound was damn hard to ignore.

Man, it was damn cold outside,
And I had the heat up; it was going to cost me tomorrow,
Or maybe next month or something and I’d have to borrow
From my ex-girlfriend, that damn Lenore—
A really hot beyotch that her parents for some reason named Lenore,
The one who dumped me, that goddam whore.

And the curtains were like, flap, flap,
Got them at the dollar store, such crap,
And now I was like, what asshole could be here,
Banging on my front door—
Some crazy homicidal maniac come to murder me and nothing more?
Then why wouldn’t he just break down my door?

So then I was like, may as well see who’s there
and what they’re knocking for,
Why they decided to bug the shit out of me,
Knocking on my goddamn door,
“All right, already, I heard you, what the hell do you want?”
Darkness there, and nothing more.

I turned back to my phone, glad it had left me alone,
When I heard that damn tapping even louder than before.
I was like, holy shit, what am I gonna do about it
Except open the window and check it out,
It’s some pigeons, I gotta get them out.
Before they bomb the hell out of my front door.

I opened the window, and with a bang and display
In strutted this like black bird-thing that looked sick
Like he’d been in some Alfred Hitchcock flick
From a long time ago before I was born.
And that bird flapped up and parked himself on the Chia Pet,
That Chia Pet of Homer Simpson’s face,
And there he sat, like he owned the place.

I was like, what is this bird’s deal,
I think I’d seen something like it in a store
Was it a blackbird or a crow, maybe making a cameo
In some movie, or did someone teach it to steal?
And then I knew I’d seen his type before.
I was like, “You’re a raven! What are you doing at my door?”
And the raven was like, “Nevermore.”

I was like, holy shit, the skivvy-ass bird can talk
Not just sit on Homer’s face and squawk
Which is pretty cool, I got to admit
But why would this creepy dude sit
outside my bedroom door,
And say a word no one says anymore,
Something so freaky like Nevermore?

Then I figured I knew what this was about
And who had sent this raven out
It must have been my ex, Lenore
I was like, “I get it. You belong to Lenore.
Who I was really into before she
dumped me, and is she coming back like before?”
And the raven was like, “Nevermore.”

I was like, “Seriously? Not gonna lie;
I don’t know anyone else who would send
A creepy bird like you knocking on my door.
Will you tell me what you’re here for?
Because I’d like to know, for sure.
And the raven was like, “Nevermore.”

I was like, fuckin-A, he had that word tricked out
Probably something its owner used to shout
Till this raven creepazoid knew it inside out
And had nothing else to talk about
But this word, or maybe two words, I couldn’t be sure,
Is it nevermore or never more?

“So, bird,” I said, “tell me if we’ll ever
Find each other, get back together
Maybe be like a couple once more?”
But that bird just blinked his beady eyes
Like he was trying to cut me down to size
And just when I thought he’d say something more
The raven was like, “Nevermore.”

Now I was like really pissed
‘Cause I thought Lenore maybe missed
me and was trying to find a way to say
We should get together once more
But that bird thing just gave a flap
Like he was through with my crap
And then opened up his trap
and said that word I was waiting for
That word that was like, Nevermore.

“Get the fuck out! Go back to whatever jackass
sent you here to get on my case and harass
me, because I have better stuff to do, for sure.”
I really just wanted him to cut and run,
Get off that bust of Homer, be done
and take his sorry ass out my door.
But the raven was like, “Nevermore.”

I was like, why do I get stuck with this zombie bird
Who just keeps repeating only one word?
I figured, he’ll just crash here tonight, that’s the rule
Staying longer than that is so not cool
Then he’s gotta go back to where he was before
And the raven was like, “Nevermore.”

So that was all like ages ago
And that dude is still here, wouldn’t you know,
parked outside my bedroom door.
Not much I can say,
Just wish he’d go away,
But I know the answer, ’cause I’ve heard it before
The answer is, like, Nevermore.

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