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").


decay & ruin
Biosphere II
dead malls
Irving housing

got that wrong

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff

(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   suddenly turns into genuine
Wednesday, September 6 2006
The final surface completing the laundry room floor repair project ended up being 16 foot square tiles left over from a tiling job that had been done by the house's original owners in the entrance area just inside the front door. It's earthy-pink Italian tile, not horrible but not remarkable either. As with every other æsthetic decision made by the former owners, Gretchen characterizes it as heinous, but it's not that bad. It's perfect for the laundry room, though it will be a little weird where the green and white foot-square faux-tile checkerboard pattern of the linoleum suddenly turns into genuine tile with a 3/8 inch change in floor elevation. I gridded out the new tile in keeping with the artificial tile pattern of the adjacent linoleum, though I think at some point I might be replacing it with something else, something like rustic salvaged siding from an old out building. The old planks I tore off the side of my parents' smokehouse when I was making it into the Shaque (back in 1990) might be ideal, though they're probably covered with a lead-based paint, so that would mean I'd have to give up my habit of eating loose paint chips (which are ever so sweet).
Cutting tiles on the wetsaw resulted in a strip of white tile dust starting in my hair, bisecting my face vertically, and continued down my chest to my waist.

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