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
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Like my brownhouse:
   Ultimate 42
Thursday, October 3 2002

Last night I dreamed I had two penises, one above the other like lights on a traffic signal. They were both equally usable, at least for sexual purposes, although I can't remember which one handled the urination function. Interestingly, this abnormality was regarded by intimate friends as neither a curse nor a blessing. And I didn't fret much about it either.
Before getting out of bed this morning, I had an idea for the perfect malt liquor targeted at the largely-untapped urban geek market. It would come in big 42 ounce bottles and be called "Ultimate 42," with a swirly subtitle "The Answer to EverythingTM." Perhaps the cap would feature a propeller on the top, or, in case that was too expensive, a depiction of a propeller.
Another stupid idea I had was to form a bluegrass band and call it "the Spanky Bottom Boys." Instead of clapping out the rhythm (or using any sort of professional percussion equipment), someone in the band could use a big perforated paddle, the sort familiar to anyone who has ever been in a fraternity or attended a public elementary school in Redneckistan, and swat out the beats on somebody's (padded) behind.
The other day during those fifteen minutes of fiscal freak out, I suddenly found myself wishing I hadn't torn up every blessed blank check sent to me by my sleaze-ball credit card companies. Well, today I got yet another set of blank checks and I decided to actually look at the terms. Ho boy, here they were, offering me a 3.9 percent interest rate for my entire credit limit with no limit to how long I wanted to take paying them back. Given my temporarily-low bank balance, I decided to take full advantage of this offer, so I immediately wrote two checks, using one to clear out my other credit card balance, and the other to stuff over six thousand dollars of freshly-printed monopoly money into my bank account.
By the way, I'm in the market for a functional used pickup truck. I'm not interested in its appearance, model or make; in fact, I'd prefer that it come pre-dented so I don't have to install the dents myself. My budget to buy such a beast is $2000, and I would be willing to travel to pick it up.

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