The Gargoyle Memoirs #4

the gargoyle memoirs1

Staying for further studies has proved most erroneous. The female, in the midst of the morning’s unexpected frenzy, has enlisted my unwilling aid in writing for her. What has her so busy she can’t write it herself, I would posit. For the past week I’ve had to listen to her as she lay on the couch, moaning about her inability to regulate her body temper. Grow skin of stone, female, and see how long your fever lasts. This morning full of activity would have been a welcome change of pace, had I not been forced into menial labor. What is it that make her feel she has too many things to do? I should not have asked.

A house guest. It’s the giggly one, isn’t it?

It is. For a month?

Steady on, soldier. I will survive this month of two crafting female in the household. I need merely to avoid their glue gun reach.

>>Oh my god side note–how cute would he be with a drag queen-esque headpiece? I know, right?

I fear I will not see the other side of the month unscathed.


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