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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   pizza with a ghostwritee
Friday, September 18 2009
Gretchen made some pizza dough and then we went with the dogs to visit some friends whose names I won't mention because Gretchen just started working as a ghost memorist for one of these friends (and I don't want to get in trouble for giving anything away). Ghostwriting involves lots of interviews and notetaking, so after pizza Gretchen and her ghostwritee sat in the dining room as the ghostwritee told her story, which was so fascinating that at times I had difficulty focusing on the conversation I was having in the living room with the ghostwritee's husband. (I was talking about separating dextromethorphan from tussin, one of the musty old anecdotes from my dissolute youth.)
Later we watched the Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien, a show I would never normally watch. For someone familiar with the sardonically-nuanced television humor of Stewart and Colbert, the more middlebrow humor of the Tonight Show is sure to disappointed, and I wasn't disappointed in my disappointment. There was, however, an unexpectedly brave segment where Conan O'Brien played the hero of a telanovela and the entire thing was done in Spanish. It was simple Spanish delivered slowly, so I had no difficulty following it, though those without a little Spanish education would have struggled. The fact that such a thing can happen on a mainstream American comedy show demonstrates how close we're coming to becoming a truly bilingual nation. I think it's a great thing, though I'm sure there were some fat sunburned white guys in pickup trucks all along the Mexican border who threw their Coors at their battery-powered televisions, screamed obscenities, and died just a little inside.


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