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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   playdate in August
Wednesday, August 11 2004
Mark's wife Lin dropped him off and we had something of a playdate, or at least that's how Gretchen and Lin were heard to describe. We sat around drinking beer, smoking pot, and listening to back issues of 2600 netcasts streamed over the internet. In one of the shows a guy was talking about picking locks and how one doesn't need to be a criminal to find this skill useful. I knew Mark was into voting for Nader, smoking pot, believing conspiracy theories, and possibly anarchy, but I had no idea he was so into hacking (not actually doing it, but as philosophical calling) until he mailed me an official 2600 teeshirt a couple weeks ago.
Later we walked on one of the loops of the Stick Trail system, but a massive thunderstorm threatened and we felt the need to hurry. The rain didn't come until at least a half hour after we got home, but then it came down in a massive drenching rain mixed with a little hail.
There's an unusual quality to the fun that comes from hanging out with Mark; I don't know what exactly it is, but it reminds me a little of the way hanging out with friends used to be before the distracting onset of puberty. That was particularly apparent yesterday when we were building a dam like a couple of eight year olds across the mighty Esopus.
Later we listened to an odd radio station Mark discovered that is streamed out of New Zealand.
[REDACTED]


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