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:
Sunday, October 26 2008
The weather was pleasant and I had no distractions, so over the course of today I installed 17 concrete blocks, a record to date on this project.
Later Gretchen and I went to the Colony Café in Woodstock, which had been closed to serve as the venue for 50th birthday party of a local singer/songwriter named Scott (One of the things Gretchen had been doing in the kitchen over the past two days was baking her birthday cake.) Though Scott is not a vegan, we know her through the Woodstock vegan scene (a Venn diagram would show a substantial overlap between the Woodstock music scene and the Woodstock vegan scene). The party was being done on the cheap, with food provided according to the flexible and almost-never-gourmand-pleasing rules of pot luck. The several vegans present were having trouble finding food that contained no animal products, so Gretchen and I made a run with a photogenic vegan Buddhist to the Garden Café and ordered takeaway. Gretchen loves the Garden Café, but today's experience left her questioning the rigor of its hiring process; the woman taking our order was a decidedly dim bulb and managed to screw up our order in several fundamental ways that weren't apparent until after I'd gone back to fetch the food.
At the party itself I ended up sitting at the bar speaking mostly with Chief (the Colony bartender whom I know through Ray of Nancy and Ray). Chief is a bit of a nut, always saying things calculated to tweak whomever he happens to be talking to. (He's the designer of a teeshirt reading, "Support Casino gambling in Woodstock.")Today I was wearing an "Obama 2008" teeshirt (the one with Obama's face rendered in large halftone dots), and Chief claimed to be undecided (about a tweaky as he was willing to get). Later, though, we talked about what a nutjob Sarah Palin has proven to be.
The Colony had let its liquor license lapse and the bar wasn't serving booze, but Gretchen and I, fearing tonight's party would feature a cash bar, had smuggled in a flask of Stolichnaya Vanil.

For linking purposes this article's URL is:

previous | next