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:
   no sports for me, lots for her
Friday, September 16 2011

There hasn't been any new Jeopardy in a long time, so it can be hard to find anything for Gretchen and me to watch together when she's made me dinner (tonight it was spaghetti with fake meat sauce). When there's no more The Colbert Report, we're forced to watch WNBA basketball. After all these years of watching Gretchen watch the game, I know most of the players and the rules, so I can enjoy watching either the last four minutes of a last quarter or the amount of game I can watch in the time it takes me to eat a big bowl of pasta.
I have almost no innate interest in athletics, and have always felt like I am missing a part of the brain common in most people, a part that likes to passively watch other people play sports. Still, most people are not as obsessed with any sport as Gretchen is with the WNBA. When it comes to sports, most people only care about the outcomes of games involving their respective home teams. For Gretchen, however, cares about what happens throughout the WNBA. If it were possible, she would watch every game. She is so familiar with the teams and players that her interests have long ago become disassociated with geographical loyalty. For years her favorite team has been Indiana, though she has zero personal or familial connection to that state. She just likes the players, particularly Tamika Catchings, whom she as friended (not to be confused with befriended) on Facebook.


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