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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   is it lemon powder?
Monday, June 27 2022

location: rural Hurley Township, Ulster County, NY

The hole in my mouth where my punk rock tooth used to be isn't that much of a problem when eating or talking, or even absentmindedly sending my tongue on patrols along the inside of my teeth. The surgical site is mildly tender, but considering what happened there, it's not bad at all. Far worse right now is a completely unrelated canker sore that has opened up nearby in the place where my lip meets my gum an inch or so left of my upper left canine. That sore had been present back during my dental cleaning last week and only really became angry over the weekend. Today it was so bad that I'd periodically daub it with "mouth pain liquid," a sort of generic Anbesol (the active ingredient being benzocaine).
The day started out rainy enough that at some point when Oscar jumped up into my lap, I discovered he was soaking wet. Eventually the rain cleared and the sun came out. Based on the rate of solar collection (visible to me remotely), the weather seemed to follow a similar pattern up at the cabin. I've noticed that we collect more energy in the morning if it's cloudy than we would if the skies were clear. This suggests that the clouds help redirect sunlight to the panels that would otherwise be lost shining into the blue sky.
This evening I took my customary Monday night bath while Powerful cooked something down in the kitchen. He was using that flavor (is it lemon powder?) that he always uses that I do not like and that I've come to associate with his cooking. Sometimes it's not too bad and I can eat the food. But today, I found myself having to sort of choke down the pasta salad he'd made because it was suffused with that fragrance. It also had other notes I don't like, such as pieces of carrot, which introduces unwanted bursts of sweetness, and kernals of corn, which didn't make any sense.
Meanwhile Gretchen was back at the Bearsville Cantina hanging out with Erica and Justin. Evidently Gretchen was telling the about my now-missing tooth, and Justin (who is something of a skate punk) wanted to know what punk rock show it had been injured at. I replied to Gretchen's Facebook Direct Message queries on this by saying that I didn't remember and the show might not have actually been punk.
Later, after Gretchen returned home, I tried to go to sleep early, but there was too much television noise from the teevee room. So I relocated to the greenhouse, where I can always get a good night of sleep.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?220627

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