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").


decay & ruin
Biosphere II
dead malls
Irving housing

got that wrong

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff

(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   coerced spaghetti dinner
Thursday, September 24 2020 [REDACTED]

Today I spent the whole workday hoping to reverse-engineer a .pdf being produced by Logi Reports. Using Adobe Acrobat Pro, the lines in the PDF proved impossible to delete or edit, and all the exports I attempted to HTML (there are many ways to do this) produced a background .png image with these lines all in place. I wanted to duplicate the functionality of the report in tokenized HTML, but that wasn't easy given the terrible quality of the HTML being created by every PDF-to-HTML converter I used.

This evening the four of us in the Mercy For Animals diaspora who usually meet for happy hour did exactly that. Early in the conversation, Dan described a former Director of Development (her name was Robin) as being "the older lady." I thought it amusing to point out that Robin was actually younger than me. To this, Dan said, "Well, she seemed older." I agreed that she had a certain world-weariness that perhaps I lack. Meanwhile Cameron is intending on soon meeting his long-distance girlfriend (who lives somewhere in New York State). They will each fly half way across the country and meet in Chicago, risking whatever coronavirus will be circulating at the time. It's the kind of risk the rest of us, especially Allison, would be unlikely to take.

The bed this morning. From left: Diane the Cat, Ramona, and Neville.

The dogs were in the woods for awhile after I walked them today. When she returned home, Ramona had a very dirty face from mining chipmunks.

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