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:
   many hours I will never get back
Monday, March 12 2012
It was a second unseasonably warm day, even warmer than yesterday. Today also marked the final episode of the Bachelor, and so again I convened with Nancy and Sarah the vegan at Sarah's housesitting residence in Bearsville. I picked up Nancy at her place and then we picked up our favorite entree from the Little Bear (our favorite Chinese restaurant): their delicious stuffed tofu. At Sarah's place, we combined this with leftover pizza from Sunday's party to make a meal celebrating both ends of Marco Polo's famous journey.
I'd brought all three dogs with me, and Ramona inject substantially more frenetic energy into Sarah's household. The little Boston Terrier named Gus was aggravated by Ramona's sacking of his bone basket as well as the rudeness of her intrusions into his personal space. His response was to yap at her and tremble. Gus is inbred and his heart is weak, and Sarah was concerned he might suffer a heart attack, so she eventually segregated him off in a separate room. Later, though, I saw that Sarah lacked an intuitive sense of what constitutes good-natured doggy play. Ramona began rough-housing with Ty (the enormous black Lab who belonged to Dennis Stock when he died and who passive-aggressively crapped near the woodstove back at my house a couple weeks ago), and though it was all in good fun, Sarah kept trying to get them to stop. Eventually Ramona became tired and slept as only a puppy can.
All of this was a distraction from what we'd come to see, the somewhat-predictable finale of the Bachelor, where Courtney the "mean model" won the whole thing. Somehow it took two hours to give us that one very small unit of information. And then came "After the Rose," where we got to see how our lovebirds are doing. As usual, they weren't doing too well; our bachelor had by this point had a chance to see the old episodes and come to realize that Courtney might just be a bitch. The studio audience of "After the Rose" consisted of the usual overly-made-up 30-something white women, none of whom seemed to have any love for the mean model. Am I the only one in America who thought she might have actually been the best possible choice? Anyway, the season is over, and those are many hours I will never get back. Somehow I have to find a way out of being roped in to seeing the Bachelorette when it starts up in May.

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