Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

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

Sunday, 21 March 2021

 



Been a rough night. 

Mort ordinarily guards downstairs at night. For whatever reason, he decides tonight to come upstairs and goes to sleep in front of the bathroom. I woke up in the middle of the night and instead of doing my business, I tripped over the woolly POS and went sprawling.

I dunno what’s up with him. The other night in the wee hours he starts crying and howling. Sounds like his heart is broken asunder and washed away in sorrow. I go blearily staggering downstairs to see what’s up... and the fag is chipper and happy and wagging.

I am going to kill Mort.

Tomorrow.
😴

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