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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   ginormous baby
Tuesday, March 20 2018
Today was the first day of Spring, and it officially began a few minutes after noon Eastern time, when the very center of the sun crossed the equator, something that (because of the time of day it happened) must've been somewhere in South America, perhaps Ecuador.
The past winter had been a harsh one, and our fuel oil tank, last filled in mid-December, was now near bottom. So the second delivery of the year arrived. In past years, I've taken pride in our household only receiving one tank of oil in a year, and that might've been possible in a normal year. But we're a richer household now and fuel oil is cheaper than it was back then. Furthermore, I work from home and need to be comfortable to get my shit done.

[REDACTED]

This afternoon I took a recreational 90 milligram dose of Nexafed, the pseudoephedrine with technology designed to thwart meth cooks. That technology makes the pills twice as expensive and much larger than they would otherwise be, and that was the reason I only took three of them. Initially they left a weird flavor in my mouth and throat, though that might've been psychosomatic. The pills felt like a condescension, like having to cut paper with snub-nosed scissors after a lifetime with the grown-up kind. But in the end, they worked for my purposes as well as the old-school kind of pseudoephedrine. I'm curious what all that extra proprietary crap will do to my body. Perhaps it will cause foaming from my asshole or rectal polyps. It all seems like a big price to pay just so toothless hillbilles can't make a little fuck-you money helping truck drivers do their job.

[REDACTED]

Eventually I had to split because Carrie and Michæl had come over for dinner. Gretchen had made a fancy salad with tempeh and faux hard cheese and a broccoli "cheese" soup. The main course were individual flatbreads that we assembled into pizzas ourselves before baking in the oven, a clever customized twist on pizza party protocols. [REDACTED]


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