Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.

 

Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").



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Like my brownhouse:
   ice cream sangria
Sunday, March 26 2000
Kim and I had yet another yard sale today, mostly because Kim didn't want to have to pack all of her fragile nick nacks, especially her large collection of candles. For my part, I tried to sell some obsolete computer equipment with absolutely no luck at all. No one who happened by was even the slightest bit interested in buying a perfectly good 40 megabyte MFM hard drive or, for that matter, a 486 motherboard with 8 megs of RAM. In the end I dropped off the bulk of this computer stuff in the alley running between Cape May and Saratoga. While I was in the alley, I found a pair of green silk pajama pants in a bag set out for the taking, and I immediately put them on.
Despite the nice weather, it wasn't a particularly good day for running a yard sale. Few people came by, and the bulk our sales were to other members of our complex who were hanging out with us enjoying the day. As we approached our limit for exposure to the sun, the yard sale gradually devolved into an outdoor packing party as we wrapped and boxed Kim's small, fragile trinkets. We'd sold so many of our possessions that I was wondering what stuff we'd have for living once we finally moved into our new condo.

Inspired somewhat by a couple of sherbet-chilled sangrias we'd had at Rancho's yesterday, Kim picked up the makings for sangria instead of beer when we went to the Appletree Supermarket for pre-Simpsons beer run.
What followed was a comic scene where Kim and I were in the kitchen reheating Chinese take-away leftovers and eating scoops of brightly-colored Breyers rainbow-flavored icecream. Since we needed the red, orange and yellow layers for the sangria, we were mostly eating the green and blue layers. "If this was a geologic structure," I observed, "then the river would run through here, where the monsters like to eat the rock." The sangria was a brick-red when it came out of the blender (I don't think you're supposed to blend sangria), but as soon as the bubbles had come to the top, it looked okay.
Just in time for the Simpsons rerun, Steph and EJ came down from their garage in Pacific Beach to hang out with us in our furniture-challenged apartment.
Eventually Kim and I managed to get in a big fight and I ended up attempting to spend the night in the unusually empty (but carpeted) closet of the computer room.


This anatomically-correct female baby doll is posing with a vintage undischarged 12 gauge shotgun shell.


From left: Neighbors Lisa & Nikki with Kim in front of our courtyard complex.


The sort of computer equipment one can't sell at a yard sale.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?000326

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