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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Like my brownhouse:
   fake the Baby meat
Sunday, December 19 2010
Because of that one night last week when we were in the audience of the Colbert Report, we'd missed an episode of Jeopardy. So we had an extra one to watch for the weekend, and tonight we watched it while eating spaghetti with red sauce (made from our tomatoes back in the summer) and marinated tofu. The tofu was so tough from having been frozen and then thawed that I joked that it was fake "the Baby" meat (this was a reference to our geriatric cat Marie, who actually looks younger now than when we got her four years ago). As for Jeopardy, we're getting awfully tired of Tom Nissley, who really needs to quit clapping on the occasions when his feats (and not those of other contestants) are being mentioned. Nissley started out on a sour note when he defeated the kind of contestant Gretchen backs most enthusiastically: a nerdy black man. The only thing such a contestant can do to cause her to abandon her support is talking enthusiastically about the devouring of meat.

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