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:
   Nigel the brownhouse cat
Sunday, July 29 2012
In the summer time, Nigel our freaky cat normally likes to hang out at the greenhouse or outside the brownhouse. He loves it when my gastrointestinal chronometer calls down there, as it offers him an opportunity to jump into my lap and get his head scratched and his back stroked. It's not too comfy for me, as there's nothing particularly pleasant about a cat crawling back and forth with semi-erect claws across one's bare thighs. But I realize the little guy has needs, mental patient though he is.
It's been so rainy and cloudy of late that Nigel has developed a renewed interest in hanging out in the house. Today he actually joined Gretchen and me for our weekly coffee ritual, hopping up on the couch and stretching out on Gretchen's legs despite the proximity of Ramona. Our ritual wasn't all it could have been; we like to make cappuccinos using a tiny battery-powered foamer, but for want of soy milk we ended up using a sickly sweet soy creamer. Our taste buds just aren't acclimated to such concentrated sugar.

Sally continues her slow inexorable decline. She staggers about the floor in tight clockwise circles, only occasionally forcing herself off in some direction in search of food or, when nature calls, to go outside. She's been shitting very close to the house of late. It's just a matter of time before she won't be able to make it outside at all. But for now she's keeping what's left of her dignity. Gretchen has taken to carrying her upstairs to watch teevee with us. She seems unusually comfortable when she's up there with. Often she also seems very alert. Her body might be wasting away, but her mind seems nearly as sharp as ever.
Gretchen and I are gradually warming to Mad Men, though that might just be a function of increased exposure. Any show can be compelling if watched enough; what else can explain my interest in The Bachelorette? I suspect, though, our interest in Mad Men is less not quite as Stockholm-Syndromesque.

I've been gradually ramping up my work on a web development project that has been languishing since early May. I have a feeling this upcoming week is going to be a grind.

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