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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   Vyvanse and physical activity
Sunday, June 5 2016
I returned home from Susan & David's place just a few minutes before Gretchen (with Neville) set out for her shift at the Golden Notebook. After doing a little weekend web development for one of my old clients, I took a 50 milligram dose of Vyvanse in hopes that it would help me focus on the garage cleaning project, which Gretchen has been hoping I'd make some progress on. But I don't really notice these amphetamine-based stimulants as much when I'm doing physical labor under their effects. My focus was perhaps a little better, but in the end I didn't accomplish much beyond reorganizing some heavy items (a cast iron radiator from the Wall Street House and a big cast iron woodstove we've never used) along the east wall under a big shelf covered with things that should mostly be thrown away. Meanwhile, a fairly steady rain was falling out beyond the garage doors. There was also occasional lightning and thunder.
At some point today, I swapped out the shit bucket from the brownhouse. It had been collecting turds and toilet paper since October 7th, 2015, that is, for eight months, which is a record for a collection period that includes all of winter (when composting is severely retarded).
Gretchen sent me an email from the bookstore asking me to cook dinner, so I made a pasta with a sauce composed of canned tomatoes, onions, garlic, and something called "Italian seitan." I also made a salad, but left it undressed since Gretchen cares a lot more about her salad than I do.
Later on after smoking some pot, I found it reacted kind of badly with the Vyvanse still in my system (ten hours after I'd taken it). I had those waves of weirdly-unpleasant energy pass through me, each of them leaving me potentially debilitated. Fortunately, when Neville decided to piss on our bed for no good reason (other than that he likes to lie in his own warm urine), I was in the trough of one of these waves and so could help Gretchen strip the bed and get a load of laundry started.


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