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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decay & ruin
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Irving housing

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

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Like my brownhouse:
   parrots return
Thursday, March 2 2000
The parrots returned to Ocean Beach today. I saw them flying around in noisy squawking groups as Kim and I walked Sophie down to the beach. It must have been the cold that brought them from wherever they were hiding for the past ten months or so. Only since I was fired has there been any chill to the air or rain clouds in the sky.
Meanwhile, the residents of the compound are, almost to a person, up in arms against John Raspberry, our evil property manager. The most active of all were the new people next door. Throughout the day I saw them chatting with others in the compound, receiving enthusiastic support and plotting strategy. At some point they may have even gotten around to contacting the Better Business Bureau. Later in the day I saw the guy from next door having a long conversation with John Raspberry, the old nazi himself. Hiss.
Dinner tonight consisted of a very large vegetarian burrito from the Rodeo Taco Shop. As I type, Sophie is bugging me, wondering when her walk is going to take place.


Kim and me on the beach.


Sophie on the beach.


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