April 10th 2020

Today I was reminded, after 6 months of not thinking about it, what flappy little cunts flies are. It’s 25 degrees outside and I’m stuck quarantined in the flat, and I dared to have my windows open during the day, so a troop of opportunistic, free-loading, ceiling hovering flaptwats have invaded my living room.

It looks proper gross but there’s thirty of the fuckers on the ceiling by the light. Well, there was thirty. I, enraged by their presence, went a bit HAM at them with a twisted kitchen towel and swatted the fuckers with all the aggression I could muster. A few of them remained, haunting me from their perch.


Why can’t we have nice things without bad things accompanying them? It’s nice weather out, why does that always have to come with flies? Since last summer ended, I’d kind of forgotten that flies existed. You don’t think about them during winter because they’re just… hibernating?… or something.

And then the sun comes out and the windows get opened and suddenly you have a bunch of new roommates.

Until tomorrow, flappy twats.


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