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:
   like white vegetation
Wednesday, February 8 2006
This morning I went to the dentist for a routine teeth cleaning and checkup. I've been kind of remiss with my teeth for the past few months, mostly because I haven't been doing a lot of sitting and reading from the screen of my laboratory computer. You see, it's normal for me to idly pick at my teeth whenever I read there. I have a customized wire, a finishing nail, a drywall screw, and a paper clip, all of which I use for this purpose, and the picking tends to keep my teeth and gums clean and healthy. I'd actually intended to give my teeth a thorough going over before today's appointment just to avoid the inevitable flossing lecture, but somehow I forgot. I'm almost 38 years old; could dental hygienists really believe that I've never heard their universal flossing lecture? The hygienist must not have been too smart because asked me if I was a farmer just because I was wearing my overalls, and she wasn't the sort who asked such questions in jest.
The hygienist gave my teeth such a thorough cleaning that they ached for the rest of the day and I had to make sure there wasn't any visible blood on my gums before my weekly meeting at the Woodstock radio station.

The weather today gradually became the coldest it's been since that premature cold wave back in December. Temperatures dropped into the low 20s sometime after nightfall and ice crystals sprouted up like white vegetation from the barren snowless ground. January had been more like April than a winter month, and the return of cold almost came as a shock, but more so to the plant world than to me. (I've seen a quite a few acorns getting a jump start on the whole oak tree thing.)


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?060208

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