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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   minty fresh neck
Thursday, March 17 2011
The weather took a turn for the conclusively springlike today, with temperatures reaching into the low 60s and even some sun. In anticipation, last night I'd turned off the boiler for the season (having burned through about 80% of the 250 gallons of heating oil this year). Today I went even further in the celebration of the rite of spring. After weeks of lobbying from Gretchen, I finally cut off my hair. Through benign neglect it had grown long enough to cover most of my neck. When Gretchen got back from the prison, she was delighted, though she insisted on trimming the back. I hadn't used used a second mirror to see back there and she found it unacceptably ragged.
With the ape drape suddenly gone, my neck felt tender and exposed on contact with the air, as if I had smeared it with minty toothpaste.

This evening Nancy had a more formal celebration of her birthday over at the China Rose in Rhinecliff. In addition to the french fry contingent from last night, Ray and Deborah were there. I thought the food was pretty good in a gooey greasy sweet kind of way, but Gretchen is convinced the place has gone downhill over the past year or so (ever since Chelsea Clinton got married nearby). For the occasion Gretchen had baked a cake for Nancy and a wheat-free bread pudding for Deborah (to make up for the absence of cake at her recent birthday). Also, Deborah had framed a print of an enlarged blurry polaroid photograph of a maple tree to give as a birthday present to Nancy. Included in the print was the image of the rough delaminating parts of a Polaroid frame, tangible artifacts that no longer accompany our instant photos.


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