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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got that wrong
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Like my brownhouse:
   abandoning ice cream
Thursday, August 17 2017
I was up at 3:00am this morning, but after doing some work at my desk I was ready to go back to sleep some time after 7:00am.
Gretchen had arranged to see her physical therapist due to continued back problems, and while she was out, she thought she'd do yet more maintenance of her neglected social network (in this case, visiting Falafel Cathy). Unfortunately, she'd left her phone behind, and kept calling me and asking me to pick up (without saying what the call was about) while I was in a videoconference. If she'd just said what the call was about I could've maybe done something during the meeting. In the end, she managed to handle her situation without her phone. Back in the 90s it was common to borrow landlines, and that was what she did while at the muffler place. Cheered by its non-illuminated check engine light, she'd brought the long-non-street-legal Subaru in for an inspection, and it had finally passed. (Fittingly, its check engine light came back on as she was driving away, but the sticker was on the windshield and it was too late for that to ruin her day.)
When Gretchen returned from her errands, she had a falafel sandwich for me from Cathy's new brick & mortar falafel restaurant in Rhinebeck. At the time I was just tucking into a pint of Ben & Jerry's, but I put it away because a falafel sandwich was much more exciting for me.


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http://asecular.com/blog.php?170817

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