Murderous Thoughts

It is no longer a mystery to me when one hears tales of old ladies foudn dead after two weeks with thier lodger mysteriously disappearing during that time.
It's really quite simple.
In a moment of old lady induced pyschosis and insanity, the lodger lunged for, found and proceeded to throttle the windpipe of said old lady until the red mist cleared and in thier hands is the dead body of thier landlady (death due to heart attack, not strangulation) freaked a tteh thought of being deported and quietly left the city. They can be found working in dodgy nightclubs in Brighton now.

I had a shift at teh pub last night. Was outta there by 12:30, got home by 1:00am. At 2:00am this morning, the TV goes on in the living room next door. Very. Fucking. Loud.
I crawled out of bed and flung open the sliding doors only to find the tv room deserted, the light on and the TV on. Promptly switched off the TV and lights, slammed the door closed and crawled back under the covers. If joyce had been in the TV room, i may have been typing this from the lower decks of a ferry heading to Belgium praying no one checks under the stairs.
And to top it all off, I had to leave at 6:30am to be at work for a meeting, over slept, and when I got here...there was no hot chocolate waiting for me.
Colour me murderous!

If anyone wants anything, please leave it on my desk.
I'll be under my desk.