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").



links

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:
   told not to talk about golf
Wednesday, April 2 2025
I hadn't brought a lunch to work today, but I had a loaf of bread and some peanut butter, so I made myself a miserable peanut butter sandwich and intended to eat it at my desk, avoiding the drama with the Lunch King and his court. But then the project manager guy actually came into the developer office to beseech me to join him and the others for lunch with the King. I said no, that I'd eaten my lunch already. He seemed disappointed. Later, though, I'd learned that the CEO had sent work to the upstairs lunch crew that they weren't to talk about golf and other things I don't like so as not to alienate me. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but yes, this all happened.
And then, after an afternoon meeting with the CEO and the more senior developers, it was decided that I would do code reviews. I wasn't excited about this, but I figured it would be a good way to expose me to the depth and breadth of the code base.

It was a cool afternon when I got home to Hurley. I took the dogs for a walk starting west of the Farm Road and then looping through the scrubby highlands to the south end of the Farm Road. Neville even came.
Gretchen returned from her overnight trip to Brooklyn, having hung out with her childhood friend Dina (who'd just flown in from Tel Aviv), David the Rabbi, and David's sister Anna.


Neville today. Click to enlarge.


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http://asecular.com/blog.php?250402

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