Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").
got that wrong
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Like my brownhouse:
watching paint dry
Friday, December 27 1996 In the afternoon Deya and I went to the Rising Sun Bakery, which I hadn't expected to be open. Many businesses, even 24 hour ones like Little Johns Deli, close for major upkeep during this brief week of low customer activity. I started work repainting the bakery's outside sign, using a white acrylic latex primer. Terry, the owner, claims he will give me free coffee for the rest of time as payment. It was a warm day, with highs in the high fifties. But the air was so humid that the paint dried slowly.
As I waited for the paint to dry, I did things like buy a used $8 Helmet CD (Meantime) at Plan 9. Deya hung around with me for a remarkably long time while the paint dried, considering how boring I was being. Finally though she went off to do some shopping at Barracks Road Shopping Center.
I made some visits to Comet to do e-mail as well as home to make myself some Ramen flavoured with Salsa (it tasted peculiar the first time, last night, but now I like it). Past six, I took a bath. Then I napped until it was time to work.
Despite its repetive nature, I like the Helmet CD I bought today. It came out in 1992, in the heigh-day of grunge. But it is more subtle and rythmically complex than grunge. There are short snatches of strange-meter drum/bass/guitar work on this album that are unequalled in western music for sheer brilliance (I used to find myself thinking similar things about Metallica's Ride the Lightning). The lyrics, however, don't do much for me. I will give Helmet credit for having the most humble presentation in all of rock and roll. Their names are displayed in lower case, with the most significant member, Page Hamilton, mentioned last. There are no photos of band members and no credit given to "fuckin' fans who fuckin' rule" (a mainstay of Pantera and Metallica liner notes).
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