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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got that wrong
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Like my brownhouse:
   German visitor from San Diego
Thursday, May 25 2000 [REDACTED]
Jenna the German Girl visited us today, having driven her yellow New Beetle all the way up from our old courtyard community (at the corner of Cape May and Cable in Ocean Beach, San Diego). When I first saw Jenna, she and Kim were walking Sophie back from a store where, on Jenna's decorative recommendation, Kim had bought a shower curtain. We spent the rest of the night sitting around sipping red wine and indulging ourselves with superficial chit-chat about such things as vanity license plate ideas, ideal colors for teeth (white) and automobiles (yellow), the sorts of guys Jenna likes, the sorts of guys she's fooled around with lately, and what's wrong with which characters in Jenna's life. It was fun conversation, but it wasn't especially memorable and Jenna wouldn't be happy if I documented the details anyway.
Jenna spent the night on one of the red velvet couches. In her capacity as a United Airlines flight attendant, she'd be flying out of Los Angeles International Airport tomorrow morning bright and early. In consideration of Jenna downstairs, Kim was amazingly quiet while we were doing the drunken hoopa-hoopa.


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