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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   Raymour and Flanigan hot sauce disaster
Thursday, June 6 2019
In my workplace today, we had a rare late-morning meeting to discuss architectural choices for this new project I have begun. As my boss Alex keeps reminding me, I'm sort of supposed to be managing this other guy who works remotely in Colorado, so today I had a fairly long Slack conversation with him just to make him feel like I haven't forgotten him. But I'm not yet at the point where I can assign him work.
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I'd forgotten my wallet when setting out for work this morning, so I had to make due with my usual diet of pupusas and sauerkraut from the office refrigerator instead of burritos. It's the kind of food I can eat every day without problems. Indeed, I'm pretty sure sauerkraut is one of the things that keeps me from ever really getting sick. Another thing is hot sauce, though this evening while I was adding JuicePress jalapeño sauce to a second helping of the noodles & kimchi dish Gretchen had made for dinner, we kept cracking up about the brand "Raymour and Flanigan" (which had been her wrong guess in response to a clue on Jeopardy), and I ended up adding way too much. I managed to get most of it out, but it was (as I soon discovered) still too hot to eat.


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