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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   ironically watching Sex and the City 2
Thursday, July 4 2013
We'd be leveraging the house cleaning jihad for yesterday's dinner party into a weekend of overnight houseguests. The first of these would be Sarah the Korean (who is not Korean and has been undergoing chemotherapy for very early-stage breast cancer). This afternoon I spent a good amount of time down in the basement bathrooms cleaning them up. They were dirty mostly as a result of neglect, which allows waves of spider empires to rise and fall, leaving their webs and detritus in three-dimensional layers that might be interesting to an arachnid archæologist. Of course, an additional problem with the bathroom I use is my failure to completely clean the tub every time I bathe in it, and so there's always a disgusting multi-layer bathtub ring, usually flecked with bits of facial hair from my habit of shaving in the tub.
Sarah arrived in the late afternoon and we all had beers and finger food out on the east deck. Later Gretchen whipped up a meal of spaghetti with red sauce and vegan meatballs purchased from a guy who sells vegan goodies on the green in Woodstock. I don't really remember what we talked about but it's always fun to hang out with Sarah the Korean. She's often apologetic in unusual ways and prefaces the things she is about to say by wondering how appropriate it is for her to say them. In some people this might be aggravating, but it isn't with her. The only thing she did tonight that I found aggravating was her decision to drink the last Sierra Nevada Torpedo (which I insist on pronouncing "torpehdth-o") and then only drinking half of it. There are few beer crimes as egregious as that.
Late the ladies wanted to watch Sex and the City 2, mostly just to make fun of it. I watched the first 20 minutes or so along with them, but between its vapid übermaterialist conformity and Sarah Jessica Parker's face's determination to age ungracefully, it was too horrible even to watch ironically. About half way through, the media computer they were watching it on died of heat exhaustion (the weather had become disgustingly hot and humid), so I had to remove its cover and install an additional fan in order for them to be able to see the second half.


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