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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   slippery-slope nap
Tuesday, June 3 2003

This morning Edna and Noah went on something of spree of mayhem at the expense of native wildlife. I first became aware of it with the shrieking of a bird brought by Edna in through the pet door. It was a fledgling robin, probably nabbed while out on its first flight. I chased Edna down the stairs and freed the poor thing, but I was too late - it had severe internal bleeding inside its head, distending one of its eardrums (tympanum) outward as a gross purple lump. It was dead in a matter of minutes.
Then I went outside and found a semi-dead field mouse out on the front stoop. It had been abandoned in mid-kill, probably because of the sudden appearance of the vulnerable fledgling robin. Then I noticed that Noah was playing with something in the grass - it was another robin, an adult female. My guess is that it had tried to defend its baby and been grabbed by Noah while its attention was focused on Edna. The poor thing was in a terrible state of shock and missing most of its tail feathers, but didn't seem to be too bad off otherwise. I put it in one of the hanging flowerpots in front of the garage. It stayed there for hours but eventually disappeared. Hopefully it's doing okay.

In Gretchen's absence I've been kind of slothful, drinking booze at unreasonably early hours just because no one is around to notice. This normally has the effect of killing off the ambition necessary to do - well - just about anything. I rationalize my sloth as an opportunity "just to think" - but then I never actually end up having interesting thoughts.
Interestingly, if I'm in a mood to drink I notice that I tend to be most creative after drinking hard liquor, particularly gin or tequila. After I drink a beer, I usually just want to crawl off into the bee-yahd to sleep. The only thing I can do to change this predictable motivational trajectory is to ingest about 150 milligrams of pseudoephedrine. It's a cheap, legal stimulant, with effects lasting several hours and none of the jittery side effects of caffeine. I didn't actually take any today, but I took some yesterday and two days before that as well. My enthusiasm for pseudoephedrine comes on the heels of my interest in dextromethorphan-in-capsule-form. In New York City, I could get generic capsulized dextromethorphan easily, but Upstate it's more difficult. Gradually I've come to realize that I mostly just wanted the pseudoephedrine that was also present in those dextromethorphan tablets. So now that's mainly what you'll see me searching for if you happen to catch me in the cough and cold section of Hannaford.

There was so much traffic directed to the Snitchreport.com kids' page today that I was inspired to add some content. I searched on the web for pictures of patriotic white children and then re-captioned these as supposed "Patriot Kid groups" around the country, organized to inform on their parents and other terrorists embedded within the dangerous, sharp-edged world of adults.

Gretchen came home tonight from her adventures down in the city. I was napping at the time, but it was one of those slippery-slope naps with the power to transform itself into a full night of sleep.

For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?030603

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