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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decay & ruin
Biosphere II
Chernobyl
dead malls
Detroit
Irving housing

got that wrong
Paleofuture.com

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff


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Like my brownhouse:
   chunks of yellow foam
Wednesday, April 23 2014 [REDACTED]
Despite having stayed up late last night, I woke up early this morning (before 8:00am) and managed to do a lot of useful work before a meeting with my keyword guy at noon. As always seems to happen when I meet with the keyword guy, he pointed out something fundamentally wrong in my code, the fixing of which will be difficult and aggravating.
This afternoon I drove out to 9W with the dogs, mostly on an errand to get dry cat food. I made the mistake of getting treats for Ramona and Eleanor at the Petsmart, and when I was in Hannaford buying groceries, Ramona lost her treat into the backseat (of the Honda Civic Hybrid) and tried to solve the problem by digging it out. When I arrived, there were chunks of yellow foam all over the backseat and the upholstery from it mid-section had been torn away. I was mad, and Ramona felt bad, but the only thing I could do to make myself feel better was to crack open one of the Sierra Nevada Torpedos I'd just bought. Back at the house, I did what I could to glue the foam and upholstery back in place. When I was done, the only way anyone would know anything had happened would be to know precisely what Ramona had originally done. Ever since I heard a Freakonomics episode on what it means to be "an expert," I've realized that the small things in life that I fret about are really, by and large, only noticed by me.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?140423

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