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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   heroin addict kitchen
Sunday, January 25 2009
On day two of whatever my illness I wasn't good for much except watching teevee. I felt weak, but not feverish. I'd sit in front of my computer and feel sluggish and tired, so I'd lay down in bed but then feel restless and bored. At some point our neighbor Andrea came over and dropped off a big crock of corn and potato chowder. She also cleaned our kitchen, which at this point looked like it belonged to a couple of heroin addicts. Andrea loves to take care of her friends when they fall ill. She's saved up a lot of karma for her old age.
After Gretchen (who was worse than me) went to bed, I watched the movie Juno just because it was there on the Tivo (Gretchen had been watching The Bucket List, which seemed unwatchably dull despite the cliché backdrops of famous places). Juno is the tale of a 16 year old quirky punk rock girl who gets impregnated up by her dull, nerdy guy friend (they're not, like, going out). Despite the way her character would act in the real world, she decides not to get an abortion (no one ever decides to get an abortion in a Hollywood movie) and finds a meh yuppie couple in a McMansion to play Phoebes to her Cowbird. The movie tries so hard to be quirky and interesting, but the quirks aren't in anything but the most superficial details; they are merely decorations. The movie itself is formulaic and inevitable. At one point I was pleased to see things getting a little interesting between Ms. Cowbird and Mr. Phoebe, but in the end it wasn't the kind of movie that was willing to go down that particular rabbit hole. As for the way abortion is portrayed, for shame! This movie, which cloaks itself in alternative culture, is yet more anti-abortion propaganda. The abortion clinic and its customers are shown as drab and desperate. Come on, it's 2009! Nobody has to play host to a primate parasite just because it has taken up residence. There is always the choice to not do what Bristol Palin has done. It's perfectly acceptable to choose death instead of life when it comes to tapeworms, so why can't does Hollywood insist we mustn't with equally-conscious human blastocysts?


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