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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decay & ruin
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dead malls
Detroit
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welcome to the collapse
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got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

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Like my brownhouse:
   the best month of the year in this climate
Sunday, May 1 2022
During our Sunday morning in the living room (which was a lot like yesterday, though this time a fire was unnecessary in the woodstove), the new tenant in Downs 1L wrote to say that her bathroom sink wasn't draining, which I had sort of known about. So I had to make another trip out there, this time with a bottle of Liquid Plumr. While waiting for that to do its magic, I did a few other chores: putting replacing a bad LED lightbulb in the front room, further tightening the closet bolts on the toilet, and removing ugly broken blinds (though the memo on which to remove had been garbled and I ended up removing the wrong one). Meanwhile the guy who was playing the hip hop in the yard next door seemed to note that I, a white boy, was puttering around nearby, and perhaps this was why he got a little more eclectic with his DJing, spinning up the Fixx's "One Thing Leads to Another" (it's not my favorite song, but the Fixx is one of the few popular 80s bands I actually like) and some sort of lush ambient tune that I should've audio-Googled. The neighbor on the otherside was sitting out on her back porch shooting me glances of "I know, can you believe it?" about the music (particularly during a hip-hop song full of n-bombs), but it was improving my day.
The Liquid Plumbr wasn't enough to unclog the sink, though a few pumps with a plunger did the trick, especially after I removed a knot of slimy NaOH-softened hair.
After completing my chores, I stopped at the Citgo on Albany Avenue to buy a sixpack of Lagunitas Maximus Colossal IPA (9% alcohol) and drank one as a road beer on my way to the Tibetan Center thrift store. May is perhaps the best month of the year in this climate, and driving around with a boozy beer while taking in all the flowers and freshness is one of the peak pleasures in life. The sign on the door of the thrift store telling people that they had to wear masks was gone, but I wore one anyway (something I hadn't done recently in Stewarts, Herzogs, or the Citgo). This proved to be a great idea, because the woman working the counter (the older one who never seems to be having a good day) was coughing a lot, and it was definitely the dry cough we've been warned about. There was nothing I wanted in the store, and I didn't stay long.
This afternoon it looked like it was clouding up to rain, so I took a box cutter out to the driveway and processed all the thick cardboard the bikes had arrived in, digesting them down to pieces that could lay flat in the back of the Chevy Bolt (so we can burn it all up at the cabin). I also made enough room in the garage for the new electric bikes, though something has to give out there; it's been a cluttered mess for years, with several piles of unsorted things to be gone through "later."
I ended up having a lazy evening, starting with a lupper of kidney-bean curry (with soft corn & wheat tacos), then taking a nap. Powerful cooked dinner, but it was some sort of weird stew that contained both beans and olives and I really didn't have the stomach for it. So I didn't join him for dinner. I drank some booze, but my body was't really in the mood for that either. So I went to bed early, snuggling with the dogs (who are always game to lie around in a bed).


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