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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   misanthropic impulsiveness
Saturday, September 25 2010
It was a nice day for puttering around the house, something I haven't had much time to do in the past nine months or so. I focused on the troublesome Subaru fuel fill pipe, whose problems (among other things) ate up hours of my recent Virginia vacation and almost resulted in a crushed body part (or cat) when the car fell off the jack. Now with the pipe out of the car, I can work on it at my leisure, grinding away corrosion, filling holes, and, most importantly, subjecting it to a battery of tests once it is "fixed." Today, though, my only focus was grinding, using an actual angle grinder. One has to be careful grinding a sheet metal pipe with something so powerful. In the process, I found that a lot of the JB Weld and other epoxy I'd applied had failed to form good adhesion to the pipe, probably due to the residual gasoline contamination. Whole chunks of it simply delaminated away, leaving behind gaping rust holes.

Gretchen spent the afternoon and evening volunteering over at the farm animal sanctuary this evening, where Moby (the musician, not the whale) gave a benefit concert. I would have gone later and met her there had my car been more driveable, but with things the way they were, I stayed home and ate pseudoephedrine and drank booze instead. Later I learned that Moby's set, in defiance of his celebrity as a mainstream techno artist, had been all-acoustic, and that he'd done a fair amount of singing (although there had been a couple of women who had provided substantial vocal assistance).
At some point this evening I found myself watching parts of Being John Malkovich yet again. This was perhaps partly due to my recent interest in Facebook puppetry, and perhaps also to the similarity of the Catherine Keener character in that movie to Sara P., my partner in puppetry. (Sara P., or at least the way she was at Big Fun, also reminds me of every character ever played by Parker Posey, all sharp elbows and irrepressible, twitching, misanthropic impulsiveness.)


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