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:
   I said his ear
Tuesday, February 5 2013 [REDACTED]
As usual for a Tuesday, at some point I downloaded and watched the latest episode of the Bachelor. There is never more than about fifteen minutes of watchable television in any of its two hour installments, and at this point I know the rhythm of the show enough to aniticipate where the good bits lie. They're never to be found in the candlelit one-on-one banter between the bachelor and one of his dates or in any of the one-on-one physical feats (such as rappelling down a cliff). Nobody with a brain cares about their "journey" or whether or not they're really beginning to get to know one another. All of those scenes can be skipped over entirely. The juciest stuff happens when the women are sitting around back at the mansion conspiring and plotting or during a "cocktail party" when they're shooting daggers at one of their number cuddling with the bachelor. There is also a fair amount of good content to be had when a group of women are made to do something humiliating together, such as in this episode when they had to "prove" how outdoorsy they could be. This involved paddling a canoe (who knew this could be done so incompetently), use a cross-cut saw to cut through a log, carry a bale of hay, and then milk a goat. The goat really showcased the ladies' iPhone-age ignorance of all things not for sale by nationwide retailers. "Are those dogs?" asked one of the girls. "He said he'll make it chocolate for me," said another of the girls, pretending the goat was whispering in his ear.

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