That which shall be smitten

[sirkitty]

MOTHS, AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHH

I hate those little bastards, oh god I hate them, they are gross little festerballs made of dust and some sort of fetid fairy powder, it is the only explanation for their filth and the ire that they do draw.

To think, here I was, it was midnight, and I was dreary, while I read news and pondered, weak and weary from a

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[skog]