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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decay & ruin
Biosphere II
Chernobyl
dead malls
Detroit
Irving housing

welcome to the collapse
Clusterfuck Nation
Peak Oil

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff


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Like my brownhouse:
   statutes of limitations and observational limitations
Monday, August 26 2013
I had a bit of a hangover after yesterday's overindulgence, and this kept me from doing much more than washing the sinkful of dishes in the kitchen. I also washed every plastic cup that hadn't been thrown in the trash, meaning we'll be able to reuse them for some future party. You may think you're green, but do you ever wash disposable plastic cups and use them again? Not that we had any parties when I was a kid, but not even my parents would have done that.
We hadn't had a chance to see the latest episode of Breaking Bad last night, so Gretchen and I watched it this afternoon. And I can finally say that it has returned to being every bit as good as its incredible pilot, the episode that first drew us in. If Breaking Bad is a parable with an overarching message, the message (driven home hard especially by this episode) is that one never gets away with anything; if you think you've gotten away with something, it's just a matter of time before it comes back to bite you. Fortunately, life itself doesn't really work that way. In the real world we have statutes of limitations and people aren't nearly as observant as protagonists in a cinematic television drama.
The memorably Mexican restaurant scene in tonight's episode (the one where Walter and Skyler meet up with Hank and Marie to "talk" and are attended to by a dissonantly-cheerful waiter offering margaritas and guacamole) had Gretchen and me craving Mexican food, so when the episode was over, we went down to the kitchen and put together an elaborate Mexican meal. It was just another Mexican Monday.
The dank nugs of marijuana had gone missing yesterday, but today I was happy to find them again; someone had helpfully hidden them beneath a pillow in the greenhouse upstairs, perhaps to keep their exposure to ultraviolet light to a minimum. I keep reminding myself of legitimate medical uses for the demon weed, and today I rediscovered another one: it's really good as a treatment for hangover.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?130826

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