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").



links

decay & ruin
Biosphere II
Chernobyl
dead malls
Detroit
Irving housing

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff


Like asecular.com
(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   tell-tale crackle
Saturday, January 31 1998
Z

achary, Peggy and the Baboose were visiting in the early afternoon. Matthew and Angela were back from Philadelphia, but they were in no shape to socialize. How can Matthew, looking and acting that way, expect us to behave as though nothing is different? He had big dark lobes under his eyes and his pupils were, for all intents and purposes, absent.

It was such an appalling sight that Zach spent most of his time hanging out up in my room with me. Ever since I told him that their prices have dropped to as low as $300, he's become very interested in getting a recordable compact disk drive to record his band's music. He flipped through catalogues, keeping up a continual chatter of bizarre sentiments. But he's become gradually less bizarre than he used to be.

I showed Zach my new laptop, and he let the little Baboose pound on the keyboard. Gibberish appeared randomly on the screen. Given enough time, of course, the Baboose would have typed out one of Shakespeare's sonnets. But he didn't have the attention span; he started complaining after about a minute.

A

fter Zach and the Baboose left, I went to try out my laptop and it was all fucked up. I rebooted it, and wouldn't you know, the hard drive wouldn't boot! This was horrible! How had the Baboose managed to delete essential system files? He'd been in the File Manager when he started out, so I guess that's where the damage was done. I felt like a complete idiot; anyone should know you don't allow monkeys to play around in the File Manager!

I thought over my situation and realized I didn't have any DOS boot disks at all. So I climbed on my bike and headed off for UVA, stopping at the Old Dominion chicken place for two avian thighs. It was the first chicken I'd eaten since seeing the chicken eating 700 pound man on the Jerry Springer Show

But at Olssen Hall, the Windows 3.11 machines couldn't even perform a simple sys.com function. Their system files were hidden away, inaccessible to format and sys. At that point I realized I actually do have a functioning DOS machine in the form of my 386 PS/2 Model 80 (which I've been completely unable to makeover into a LINUX machine). So back to Kappa Mutha Fucka went I. Thankfully there wasn't much wrong with the laptop and I had it working again with only a little grief.

I wasted the rest of the day playing with hardware in various arrangements, trying to set up another LINUX machine without success.

Then I sort of cleaned my room (something I have been gradually doing for days). The only motivation this time was a search for lost memory, a 4 megabyte SIMM which I feared might have been in a box that I tossed out yesterday. But I finally found it.

W

hile Matthew and Angela vegetated upstairs (that tell-tale crackle in their voices the few times they briefly came down), I hung out for awhile watching the Exorcist with Deya and "the Quintuplets." This time one of the Triplets had been replaced with yet another unknown but nevertheless fashionable blond girl. And KC was elsewhere. So our visitor count stood at only four. The Quintuplets say they'll be coming to the Aquarius Party, which is a good thing. This sounds incredibly cynical, I know, but they're an easy way to stock a party with fashionable nubile unescorted chicks.

one year ago

For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?980131

feedback
previous | next