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").



links

decay & ruin
Biosphere II
Chernobyl
dead malls
Detroit
Irving housing

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff


Like asecular.com
(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   another one of the taxes the childless pay
Friday, August 2 2002

there are a lot of strangers on the internet who speak broken English and want to help me

This is a WinXP patch special for your happy computer! I wish you would like it. This is a very powful tool! I wish you would like it! Also, a special very new site! And a happy fun excite game! This is a funny game. This game is my first work. You're the first player. I wish you would like it.

the joy of spanking annoying toddlers

I've become very pro-spanking lately, at least in theory. I start singing little makeshift spanking anthems every time I hear one of the toddlers next door erupt into ear-piercingly meaningless blubbering (and in Park Slope it's always both ear-piercing and meaningless; if you wanted to hear meaningful blubbering, you'd have to go to Somalia or Bed-Stuy at the very least). My toddler spanking anthems are sung to the same melody as the songs I sing about Sally, Noah, and Edna (borrowed from the old childhood song that goes, "Miss Suzie had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell. Miss Suzie went to heaven, the steamboat went to hello operator give me number nine..."). The words are usually just "Spank spank spankitty spank spank spank spank spankitty spank spank spank..," always accompanied by a little spanking pantomime that I could never imagine doing in front of witnesses. Now I'm well aware of the fact that unless you're a fundamentalist Christian, it's not acceptable in this country to even advocate spanking toddlers, let alone fantasize about it. But let's face it, by what other means is it remotely acceptable for an adult to exact vengeance for the disturbance caused by a toddler's screams? The toddler finds himself at the bottom of an ever-deepening karmic canyon, but yet he gets off completely scott free. It's just another one of the taxes the childless pay so that others can replicate their unremarkable genetic information. Allow me to duck into and out of metaphor for a moment: their kids are DOS 4.0 and you can just tell they're going to grow up to be Windows Millennium Edition some day. And my entire computer consultancy business model is predicated on the widespread adoption Windows Millennium Edition.

the business of business

I made another version of my business flyer today, this time with five simple tear-offs along the bottom. After having 50 copies made (black on white), I sat for a time in Prospect Park cutting the fringes and then manually coloring that circuit board green. I put six or seven up near the F Subway stations in southern Park Slope, returned home, and took my third of fourth cold shower of the day. It was so beastly hot that any trivial effort immediately resulted in a drenching of sweat.
In the evening, though, there was a long and very electrical thunderstorm. Lightning hit close by several times, causing my monitor to flicker. Sally was terrified, as reflected by her continuous shivering and yawning. Edna must have been trapped somewhere outside during the storm, because she didn't materialize until it ended several hours later, covered with dry dust and unusually full of herself.

For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?020802

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