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
Biosphere II
Chernobyl
dead malls
Detroit
Irving housing

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

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Like my brownhouse:
   more hair in the backyard
Monday, July 8 2002
I cut my hair today in the usual manner, with a pair of scissors out in the backyard and, initially, without the assistance of mirror. After a little touching-up in the bathroom mirror, I was reasonably satisfied with the results. Mind you, I came this close (imagine me holding my thumb and forefinger about an inch apart) to completely shaving my head.
This was the first real haircut I'd given myself since the drunken butchery I'd performed a year ago on July 4th, back before I moved to New York and the World Trade Center fell. Though my hair had grown rather long over the past year, the amount I removed today was considerably less than the piles of grey cat wool I'd sheared from Noah over a week ago.


Who has a hamburger bun head?


Sally in a rare moment of summer noon sunlight on the back deck.


My new haircut.


Eddie Edna relaxing on the backyard entrance to the basement.
Notice her hind legs can point one way while her front legs point the other.


Noah's hair is on the left and mine is
on the right on the barren soil of the dark and gloomy backyard.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?020708

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