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
dead malls
Irving housing

got that wrong

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff

(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   the redneck stops shooting
Saturday, March 20 2010
Ray prepared a brunch comprised of some sort of puréed coconut-flavored soup, served with a crouton-broccoli-and-white-bean salad. Our friend Sarah the vegan was supposed to join us but she ended up lingering in Rosendale talking to a complete stranger about a piece of real estate and didn't bother calling us. (I suspect she has a bit of a self-sabotaging streak when it comes to her social life.[REDACTED])
But eventually Sarah joined us and the redneck who'd been monotonously firing various guns down at the Dug Hill Road bus turnaround became bored with putting holes in trees (or else ran out of ammunition). The weather was still warm and sunny, so we ate out on the east deck. Inevitably conversation drifted to the topic of the guy who runs the Alternative Baker in Rosendale, from whom Sarah had just purchased a bag of various handmade breads (including at least one focaccia). He'd been nice to Sarah, but supposedly he's been making a fool of himself by not letting people walk through his property, which extends from main street into Rondout Ceek as a sort of real estate barricade to those walking along the creek's north bank. He reportedly yelled a number of obscene things at a female trespasser, including the worst of them all: cunt. This sort of behavior seems counterproductive when trying to run a business, but evidently the guy is insane. And that turns out not to be much of a handicap for the actual skill of baking bread.

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