Gorey signatures

[Womti]

for those of you who do not have signatures, or are interested in changing their current, I shall be posting a number of Edward Gorey short story texts, which you may quote for signatures, or do with as you will.



For starters: "The Sopping Thursday" (by Edward Gorey)

Since early morning it has been raining

Where is my umbrella?

I have mislaid my umbrella

I do not find my umbrella

I have lost my umbrella

Where is Bruno?

I think it will presently stop raining

Someone stole Mrs Gumbash's umbrella

I wish to purchase an umbrella

Last night it did not seem as if today it would be raining

I am unable to undo the cover of my umbrella
I know I am going to succeed

I have come to borrow an umbrella

I do not like carrying an umbrella

The cats are nervous when it is raining

The child has somehow got shut inside its umbrella

Nor do I really care for this umbrella

Last week in your umbrella stand I left my umbrella

The wind has blown inside out my umbrella
I will not give up until I do

I never mind it raining

I have been poked in the eye with an umbrella

Have you no other umbrella?

Last year on this date it was raining

There has been a snatching of an umbrella

None of these umbrellas will do

I cannot see where I am going with my umbrella
I feel I shall very soon succeed

I expect tomorrow it will still be raining

The infant is saved frombeing swept down an open sewer
because the dog has recognized its master's umbrella

Bruno has returned
I knew I should succeed

What a noble beast!

That was very naughty of you
THE END

[kahljorn]

The child has somehow got shut inside its umbrella

[Womti]

and to follow: "THE UTTER ZOO ALPHABET" (by Edward Gorey)

The Ampoo is intensely neat;
Its head is small, likewise its feet.

The Boggerslosh conceals itself
In back of bottles on a shelf.

The Crunk is not unseldom drastic
And must be hindered by elastic.

The Dawbis is remote and shy;
It shuns the gaze of passers-by.

The Epitwee's inclined to fits
Until at last it falls to bits.

The Fidknop is devoid of feeling;
It drifts about beneath the ceiling.

The Gawdge is understood to save
All sorts of objects in its cave.

The Humglum crawls along the ground,
And never makes the slightest sound.

The Ippagoggy has a taste
For every kind of glue and paste.

The Jelbislup cannot get far
Because it's kept inside a jar.

The Kwongdzu has enormous claws;
Its character is full of flaws.

The Limpflig finds it hard to keep
From spending all its life asleep.

The Mork proceeds with pensive grace
And no expression on its face.

The Neapse's sufferings are chronic;
It lives exclusively on tonic.

The Ombledroom is vast and white,
And therefore visible by night.

The Posby goes into a trance
In which it does a little dance.

The Quingawaga squeaks and moans
While dining off ankle bones.

The Raitch hangs downward from its tail
By knotting it around a nail.

The Scrug's extremely nasty-looking,
And is unusable for cooking.

The Twibbit on occasion knows
A difficulty with its toes.

The Ulp is very, very small;
It can hardly be seen at all.

The Veazy makes a creaking noise;
It has no dignity or poise.

The Wambulus has floppy ears
With which to wipe away its tears.

The Xyke stands up at close of day,
And then it slowly walks away.

The Yawfle stares, and stares, and stares,
And stares, and stares, and stares, and stares.

About the Zote what can be said?
There was just one, and now it's dead.

[Sethomas]

I dunno, I think those are kind of long for being signatures.