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").


decay & ruin
Biosphere II
dead malls
Irving housing

got that wrong

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff

(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
Tuesday, January 27 1998

circa 6:00pm


  usually like to take a bath at some point in the afternoon, that is, when everyone is gone. I don't like to hear people clunking around - or god forbid, arguing - when I'm relaxing in hot water.

    Back in Staunton, where all the potable water is collected off the roof from infrequent rains, baths are a luxury that are available only during times of abundant rainfall. When I lived there, I often had to take baths in less than ideal demographic situations. Particularly loathsome was taking baths when my psychotic brother Don was home. He had a bad way of jumping up and down and raving at the top of his lungs just outside the bathroom door. It wasn't the makings for a nice relaxing bath.

But recently at Kappa Mutha Fucka, I've noticed that relaxing baths are sometimes nearly as hard to come by as they were back in Staunton. For one thing, there's almost always someone home with me at all times. In morning, after Matthew leaves for work, followed some hours later by Deya, I'm left with Angela, who doesn't go to work until late afternoon. But by that time, Matthew's usually already home. I have to tell you, the worst time of all to take a bath is when both are home together.

I began my bath this afternoon after they'd left together, thinking they were going on one of their many trademark restaurant tours or shopping sprees. But they came home towards what was going to have to be the end of my bath. They were okay at first, but inevitably they began to fight as they always do. All they do together is fuck or fight (they're never doing anything but "dealing with" the burdens of their relationship). They're like a two person Melrose Place, with less interesting dialogue.

The fight climaxed after I'd given up on my bath and was toweling myself off in front of my computer. Matthew didn't want to go with Angela to hang out with Angela's friend Lily (see the March 15th entry), claiming (in an angry whining voice) that he'd have nothing to talk about. He said that all Lily talks about is her stock market portfolio and Hanson - she's young and rich. But it's not okay for Angela to go hang out with Lily by herself either; in Matthew's view, it is the duty of the girlfriend to use all her free time to keep the boyfriend company. Infantile neediness isn't pretty, folks.

I've seen happier relationships, I suppose. In general, though, Kappa Mutha Fucka has been an endless series of seminars on why relationships suck.


n other things, I'm experiencing flaky performance from a half megabyte SCSI hard drive, and I'm getting irritated.

almost six hours later


h! oh! uh!" the female voice moans from Matthew and Angela's room. They're in there "making love" after an evening of making war. Earlier, the fights built to a crescendo over the Lily issue, but Angela finally caved and they went out to dinner (leaving instructions to lie if Lily should call). But the underlying issues weren't resolved at all, and I'll bet they continued fighting through dinner. The fighting ultimately leads to more sex which in turn results in more fighting. It's a rapidly rocking, unstable situation. I predicted to Deya that they'll break up in a week and half. If they don't, it'll be hell for us. You see, this fighting is not only stressful for the parties involved, but it's a distracting nuisance for those of us who must live around them. Our handicap, however, is that it's bad form for us to say anything about this fighting, to point out, for example, that Matthew is acting like an squalling infant. The protocol expected by our society is that we suffer in silence. I have a way of breaking such protocol, especially when Jessika and Johnny Boom Boom fight. But I have a special relationship with Jessika that I wouldn't say I have with either Matthew or Angela.


eya and I watched a show called "Amazing Animal Rescues" and then Clinton's State of the Union Address, if only for its surreal history-making ambience. As a speech, however, it wasn't particularly interesting. But I do notice that suddenly Clinton is trying to rile up some support from his left wing constituency, which he's ignored and compromised away for years. I say suffer, you fucker. You only want the left when you've fallen and you can't get up. This is not to say, by the way, that I consider myself a "leftist." I'm too misanthropic to ever be a true leftist. I embrace such barbaric practices as infanticide, you see.


  notice that yesterday's musings entry is getting lots of hits from hapless web surfers using the Altavista and Infoseek search engines to track down Monica Lewinski. Thinking ahead, of course, I'd included numerous misspellings of Monica's name and gobs of sexual terms in the meta-tags. Last I checked, I was number four in the Altavista search results.

Interestingly, since Excite, Lycos, Yahoo and Webcrawler all update on a multi-weekly basis, they are utterly useless for tracking down pages on late-breaking news. In such times, Altavista and particularly Infoseek rule the Web.

"Presidential knee pads"? This late night news show thing is sounding more like the Jerry Springer Show every day!

one year ago

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