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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   doggy daycare
Saturday, May 29 2010
I spent the entire day handling the incidentals resulting from the integration of the day viewer I developed yesterday for my scheduling system. At times I felt a little like the program counter for a simple computing system. Something I'd be doing would reveal an obscure bug in the environment (a huge libary of code that's been in development since the beginning of 2006), so I'd have to take note of where I was to investigate, debug, and fix. But in the process of doing that I might end up discovering another bug. At times my "stack" was several items deep as I fixed obscure bugs in the environment. In general this code is pretty solid; it's been in continuous use in many projects and heavily-tested by real-world events. But I'm always changing and extending the code base, and this can introduce new problems that propagate out through all the various functions, some of which get enormous amounts of use.

For most of the day the house turned into a doggy day care. Ray was off at work and his dog Suzy (whom he'd brought up from Brooklyn) was hanging out, mostly chewing on a bone. And then Deborah, who had a big day at the farm animal sanctuary dealing with an appearance of Chrissie Hynde, dropped off Juneau, her enormous white dog. Everyone seemed to get along, they mostly stayed out of the road, and nobody showed much interest in chasing cats. But sometimes one of the dogs would get bored and stare at me and make me feel guilty.
At some point this I saw Suzy roaming around the yard in a random pattern as if she was drunk. Her legs were also moving chaotically, often splayed out at weird angles. I wondered if maybe she'd suffered a stroke, but when Ray came home his theory was an application of Frontline was the culprit in her weird neurological symptoms.


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