Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Friday, 22 June 2018

Friday Cup Of Mead: No Flowers For Algernon

Oh hi everyone!

It's been a couple tough days here at Uncle Bob's Institute For Wayward Boys N' Retards. A couple of seemingly small details came together to make a perfect storm at the institute: the first came when the Ritalin deliveries slipped. If that wasn't bad enough- we hired a creepy new substitute teacher that's learning the little bastards all kinds of bad stuff.

All of a sudden under his tutelage, otherwise peaceable retards started getting in all kinds of trouble! Quartermain invented an invisible sign language. Jack invented invisibility or he may have disintegrated himself - nobody's seen him since he blinked out of sight on Wednesday! WL wrote 7 spectacular poems, a novel and score for the Boston Philharmonic Pops, and Pete and TB are riding around in a flying machine without propellers, jets or rockets! It's been pandemonium.

Fortunately the drugs came in, and we coked up medicated all the little bastids to the gills! And peace and harmony return! Bob is colouring and getting more on the desk than on the paper, BW is drooling and staring into space at something only he can see, and the rest of 'em are doing things that quiet, docile retards do. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…. it's so relaxing!!!

And now that the students are back under control, maybe it's time I medicated myself! Join me if you're so inclined!

Have a great Friday

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