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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   Christmas Eve 2020
Thursday, December 24 2020
Last night Neville dragged home an articulated deer leg and managed to get it in through the pet door and then up the stairs. He lay with it on the couch all night, sometimes gnawing on it and other times anxiously guarding it against anyone who would try to take it. He did not get a good night's sleep. This morning when Gretchen went to walk the dogs, Neville declined to come along. He did, however, drag his leg down to the living room and continued guarding it on a chair there. When Gretchen got back, she and I used a mop and a broom to get it away from him. While he was biting on one of those, I could reach down and grab the leg and get it outside. I later hung it out of reach in a tree along the Farm Road. As always, it came as a relief for Neville to no longer have to worry about such a find. A scapula had apparently fallen off of it at some point, though Ramona managed to crunch it into tiny pieces and there was little of it left.

Both Gretchen and I had the day off from work, so we treated it like a Saturday. But instead of caffeine, I drank kratom tea, since I was saving my regrown caffine hymen for Christmas day. The panagram for the New York Times Spelling Bee was "chutney," though Powerful was the one who eventually saw it.
At some point I drove to the Kingston Plaza (the site of the Ghettoford and J&K Liquor) to re-up my laboratory booze supply and get some decaf coffee for Gretchen and a few presents. The weather was much warmer than it had been, with occasional rain and blustery conditions that wouldn't be unexpected in May.
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This evening Gretchen made dough for pizzas, and she, Powerful and I later made personal pizzas according to our preferences. I was feeling punchy with the Christmas spirit as we assembled our pizzas, with me singing a version of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" that had Santa Clau coming "in your face." While the pizzas were cooking in the oven, I painted a greyscale painting of Celeste, the cat who likes him the most, as a present for Powerful. (It was based entirely on an earlier greyscale painting I'd made of Celeste.) Meanwhile Powerful had driven into town and was, as usual, taking a long time to return, so Gretchen and I started eating our pizza without him.


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