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:
   normal level of performance
Monday, August 26 2002

After another one of my gigs with a regular customer, I went on another big marketing blitz down 8th Avenue in Park Slope. Unfortunately the telephone started acting weird halfway through the day. Instead of doings its normal ring-ring-ring-ring-answering machine, it would only manage a half ring and then fall silent. If we weren't alert, we'd miss the call. And if we missed the call, the answering machine would never answer. I wondered if perhaps the FBI had, in keeping with their normal level of performance, had somehow bungled a tap they'd installed on my line.

In the evening I managed to figure out all the wires, connections, and settings necessary to play a Hedwig and the Angry Inch DVD from my computer and display it on our television. Unfortunately, the action tended to be a little jumpy and the colors (unlike those of Old Glory) inexplicably ran.

Somewhere near the end of it, Anna came over and asked us to come check out a weird chemical smell in her apartment. So Brian, Gretchen, Sally, and I all went back to Anna's place to check out the situation. The hallway smelled like someone had sprayed the entire content of a super cut-rate deodorizer, perhaps by carelessly tossing it upside-down into some container. It was easily enough to induce a headache and cause concern of possible fire hazard. So Anna decided to go spend the night at her parent's house. While we were there, I tested whether we could pick up the signal from the 802.11 installation on my brownstone's roof a half block away, but unfortunately it seemed to be completely blocked by an intervening building.

For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?020826

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