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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   low-friction tostada pizzas
Friday, January 6 2023
After I accomplish something in the remote workplace, it's typical for me to slack off the next day, and that was exactly what I did despite the possible industriousness-inducing effects of a recreational 150 mg dose of pseudoephedrine, to which, in the afternoon, I added kratom tea (as usual). The weather was still fairly nice (it hadn't been below freezing in something like a week or more), so at noon I made another firewood salvaging run, this time bringing home the last of the tree I'd partially cut down and left to the wind to bring down all the way. This wasn't a full load, though, so I augmented it with more marginal pieces from other nearby trees I'd bucked into pieces as well as some tender little pine branches for use as kindling. Back in the living room, the indoor woodpile has develeoped an æsthetic similar to the Game of Thrones throne of swords.
Towards the end of the workday, I grew weary of sitting at my desk, so I climbed into bed and was soon joined by Ramona the Dog and Diane the Cat. But I never actually fell asleep. Meanwhile outdoors, a strong rain shower passed through making nostalgia-inducing noises on the metal roof of Gretchen's outdoor porch.
Later Gretchen revived some old and very dried-out whole wheat tortillas by spritzing them with oil and them covering them with various leftovers to make tostada-pizzas. I wouldn't say it was her best meal, but it was very filling. Unfortunately, the tortillas developed very little friction when sitting on a plate, and it wasn't long before Gretchen's normal teevee-watching movements caused one of hers to slide over the edge of her plate-bowl and onto the floor, creating a mess that interrupted our Jeopardy! watching. I myself came perilously close to having the very same thing happen to me.


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