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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Like my brownhouse:
   Powerful gets the Cancun's experience
Tuesday, July 5 2022

location: rural Hurley Township, Ulster County, NY

I had a dream this morning that I'd been moved from the web team at my company to the application development team, a team that develops a decidedly non-web program. There was a strong sexual component to this dream, but I can't remember quite how.

Years ago, Gretchen's friend Mary P. had a boyfriend named Johnny that she (Gretchen) really liked. Ultimately Mary broke up with him because he wasn't advancing with his life; he seemed content to remain a drum-playing teenager forever. Fast forward to recently, Gretchen discovered that Johnny and his wife of ten years, while still living in Brooklyn, have an Upstate place on Route 212 just west of Saugerties. So she invited them over. They arrived today in the mid-morning and Gretchen gave them muffins and tea out on the east deck. I joined them for a little while as they toured the house. They made all the appropriate noises on seeing the laboratory, or course, and I also showed them the two biggest balls I'd made from Oscar's fur.

This evening, Gretchen and I took Powerful out to dinner to celebrate his 43rd birthday, which had actually happened on Friday. I'd had the idea of going to Cancun's Mexican restaurant in Red Hook for one of the few good relics of the 1980s. I figured that, if nothing else, Powerful would appreciate all the sexy señoritas who work there. Powerful was happy with suggestion, and so there we were in Cancun's. Powerful was amazed how quickly we were given the chips & salsa we hadn't ordered, and the chips would've been endlessly refilled had we not told the cute chip chica bastante. As for drinks, they were both generous and strong. I got a conventional margarita and Powerful ordered one that was blue in color due to the Blue Curaçao that had been added. Both the drinks and the 80s-style Mexican food came out right away, at close to Burger King speeds. Unfortunately, Powerful's appetite had still not fully recovered after his recent medical troubles (which were not caused, it turned out, by Clostridioides difficile. Near the end of the meal, I gave Powerful his gifts, and he seemed happy with them.
On the way home, we stopped for SNAP-card-paid-for groceries at the Red Hook Hannaford, the store I used to shop at all the time back when I had to drive to work. The funny old gay guy who works as a cashier still has his job, and he's still making witty remarks about things like women being jealous of his good looks.

Due to all the noise in the house, I ended up sleeping down in the greenhouse tonight. It was a rainy evening, and I liked the sound of rain drops on its metal roof.

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