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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   Charles behind the toilet
Tuesday, April 4 2017
Today was mostly rainy, with perhaps normal temperatures for a rainy day in early April. I started work early, eventually solving all my SQL problems leftover from last night.

Our new cat Charles remains locked up in the upstairs bathroom as he acclimates to his new household. Today he relocated from beneath a draped stool to a time-worn cat hiding place: behind the toilet. Charles is a fairly vocal cat and he meows at whomever comes into the bathroom. He's still being a bit of a freak, but with a little stroking of his head and neck, he can be convinced to come out from his hiding place. He then proceeds to rub against things

This evening Gretchen went with Nancy to see the movie 1984, based on the novel by George Orwell (and suddenly given new currency in these Orwellian times). Today that movie was being shown nationwide in many venues, the day having been chosen because it was the day on which the movie's protagonist began his journal. (I should note that I began my written journal, which I maintained into the 1990s, on April 5th, 1983. You'll see below that in those days I referred to myself in the third person.) While I was in the bathtub tonight, Gretchen returned from 1984 saying it had been a "horrible experience." I took that to mean that the movie had sucked, but that wasn't what she meant. Instead, she meant that it was great but horrifying.


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