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:
   deck now legit
Tuesday, September 6 2016

location: Room 131, Motel 6, New Brunswick, New Jersey

Other than a quick foray to the office to get some mediocre coffee in a styrofoam cup, there was no dilly-dallying after we got out of bed this morning. We moved our shit out to the car and hit the road with me doing the driving. We continued non-stop all the way home to Hurley. Andrea was there and as chipper as we'd left her, helping us lug all our things into the house.
Gretchen had arranged for the Hurley Building Inspector to inspect the braces I'd installed last week, and he arrived a little earlier than inspected and checked it out from the ground. I could tell he was in a good mood when he noted that it was an unusual place for a cat to sleep; Sylvia was under the solar deck lying directly on the roof ridge. I offered to take him upstairs so he could get a closer look, but he said he didn't need to do that. Soon he handed me a piece of paper saying my deck was legit, the first time it has been so since I built it eleven years ago.
Andrea had a plane to catch and would need to take a bus to that plane, so Gretchen drove her to the bus station. Andrea doesn't really have a fixed address at this point, so it was no surprise that she left some of her stuff at our house; one can't take all one's worldly possessions on an airplane.
In my remote workplace today, I quickly discovered that all the queries I'd been trying (and failing) to run on Friday executed quickly (in about twenty seconds) if I just put indexes on a few of the columns in the tables I was querying. Those indexes allowed me to complete a semi-temporary table that I could then generate reports from, thus completing my assignment. At around 5:00pm I took a recreational dose of Vyvanse, the mental energy of which send me down a rabbit hole of intrigue regarding how exactly certain tables in one database are affected by cron jobs in another.
Towards the end of my workday, I started in on a cocktail comprised of some sort of Gatorade product mixed with gin. Gretchen had bought me the Gatorade product as part of the fulfillment of my request for sweet, watery drinks back when I was on the roof working on the solar deck bracing project. Now that it was done and approved, it seemed like a fitting thing to celebrate.


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http://asecular.com/blog.php?160906

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