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:
   steel yarmulke
Wednesday, October 11 2023
We were startled awake by a phone call that seemed kind of early, but it was already after 9:00am. We'd somehow slept through the alarm on Gretchen's phone (probably because she'd left it out in the teevee room) and missed taking Ramona to her vet appointment. Gretchen said we could get her there in ten minutes, but it was already too late and there was no vet available. At that point Gretchen kind of lost it, in the way that she often does. [REDACTED] After a few phone calls, Gretchen was able to schedule another appointment for 10:00am on Friday morning. But if anyone cancels, we could get an appointment at any time. For that reasons, I decided to run out and do my landlording early so Gretchen would be around in case a call came from the vet. And then I'd be back when Gretchen left for work so I could be around to answer the phone. Since it was unlikely there were dead rats at Brewster Street, I skipped checking the traps there and instead just went to the third floor apartment at Downs Street to apply another layer of joint compound. I was gone for only about forty minutes, most of which time was spent driving.
After that, I experienced a bit of a purposeless funk. I had no good things happening on my job hunt, there wasn't much left to do in cleaning out the garage. But I managed to go out there and cut up an overlooked pallet for firewood and then used an angle grinder with a diamond blade to slice the top off an old failed expansion tank so I can make it into a high-capacity antifreeze funnel for recharging the solar hot water collector, producing what looks like a steel yarmulke as a byproduct. Such funks come because I don't have it in me start anything new (such as a personal software project, splitting wood, or cleaning up the laboratory). So I ended up drinking kratom tea and watching more videos of entitled princesses thinking they can complain their way out of DUI arrests.
Then around four I boiled up some rigatoni (with pieces from a cauliflower that had started to go bad) and fried a pan of onions and tofu so Gretchen could return home after her bookstore shift and not have to make dinner. I realized at the last minute that we were out of Rao's marinara sauce, but not before I could call Gretchen and have her pick it up at the Hurley Ridge Hannaford.

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