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:
   tell-tale white light
Saturday, March 8 2003 [REDACTED]

This evening Gretchen and I went to Woodstock to socialize with Mary Purdy and friends. Mary, who had been languishing in the Upper West Side of Manhattan, just moved into a loft above a Woodstock glass studio. Katie's sister Becka used to live there and is now subletting it to Mary for a reasonable price. Sometimes it's not easy to get out of the habit of hanging out in your old place, particularly when the person taking it over is not a random stranger. Mary says she came home earlier today and found Becka and friends hanging out in her living room, watching teevee. Sometimes people differ in their ideas of what constitutes an adequate "boundary" (as they say in the world of therapy).
Mary's new boyfriend Mark was also there. He's a big lunk of a guy, half corn-fed farmboy and half something more in keeping with the needs of an Oberlin-educated actress in search of witty, scintillating companionship.
Later we were joined by Katie and Louis, who came bearing alcohol. Dinner consisted of lasagna prepared by Mary, who made it clear she was no cook but it was good nevertheless. Our contribution was two different species of cookies Gretchen had baked. I ate so many of the fudgy chocolate cookies that I feared I'd get sick. Conversation kept us all laughing and drinking far more effectively than anyone could have anticipated. We even considered going on a booze run, what would have been the first after-the-party-started package mission since my old housemate John blew through town sans girlfriend. We discussed a number of topics from sky diving (things Gretchen and Louis have done) to near-death experiences (none of us have ever seen the tell-tale white light used as a transition in Six Feet Under).

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http://asecular.com/blog.php?030308

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