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:
   sado-masochistic sushi experience
Wednesday, February 19 1997

Cool thing to say today: everyone experiences your death except you.

Today the weather was like a warm day in April. Conditions have not been this mild since the freak weather in early January. On my walk out to the Corner, I passed Jenfariello and housemate Ami on the front porch of their house (behind their house is a wasteland of construction for some kind of hare-brained private student residential facility). The girls were eating sushi from the new sushi bar on 14th Street. Jen had been a charter employee there, dressing in the ridiculous little costumes in which the waitresses are required to outfit themselves. But at the end of a day of work her pay had come to about $2 an hour and she was expected to split tips with the chef. So she hasn't returned. Indeed, it was Ami who picked up the sushi they were eating today. Jen gave me some, and it had a strong horseradishy sauce in it that gave a masochistic rush of pain through the roof of my mouth like a rocket being launched through my brain. But it was just brief agony, and addictive in a way. Jen likes to suffer when she consumes things; for this reason she is also a big fan of tequila shots.

For those of you in the dark about what Jenfariello looks like, here is her picture:

Jenfariello's favourite picture of herself
Fatima and the other hippie adolescents were out in their billowing hippie attire, some of them barefoot, enjoying the anomalous weather.
After some work at an overheated Cocke Hall, I went around videotaping on the Corner. Fatima and the other hippie adolescents were out in their billowing hippie attire, some of them barefoot, enjoying the anomalous weather. I videotaped some of them silhouetted against a stunning setting sun.

As I was heading home on Wertland, I was hailed by a goth contingent in the Monstermobile, Glenn Monster Boy's car, then being driven by Monster Boy, with Cecelia the Brazilian Girl and Theresa as passengers. Naturally, I jumped in.

We went back to Monster Boy's place, the Hillel Jewish Center in deepest Fratville so the others could fix themselves insipid white bread sandwiches. It seems that Monster Boy got in some kind of conflict with an older German man who lives next door, and now he's to be evicted in a month. This had the effect of opening up a source of revenue for the evening, since next month's rent won't have to be paid now. Some of that ended up going into a bottle of Cribari Blush later at the Barracks Road Kroger. We'd originally intended to get a flick at a video rental place, but no money could be found for that (Monster Boy hadn't yet considered the rent money option). So we went to Goth Central, Theresa's place, and watched the videotape made the night of my birthday on the 16th. We were very pleased to find a section of videotape that had been shot in the very late part of the evening when everyone was almost in blackout. Much of this was actually shot by Cecelia. It was all there...violence, belligerance, destruction and seduction (the last two being ineffectual, but in Goth Central such isn't always the case).

Then, when the lightbulb had shown over Monster Boy's head and the idea of converting rent money to vino cropped up, we headed off to Kroger. I videotaped within the store and also out in the parking lot. We ran across Theresa's mother and her two little kids there, and she got into a big conversation with Monster Boy and Cecelia; the mother is concerned that every time she sees Theresa her daughter has accumulated yet more injuries.

Out in the parking lot some drunk honky rednecks heckled some belligerant cellular-phone-weilding afro-american drug dealers (they may not have been drug dealers, but they loudly talked about "ounces of mushrooms" they were trying to sell). Nothing much came of this confrontation except for the squealing of wheels. I was afraid to videotape. Some people don't take too kindly to being actors in a movie.

My pre-work nap began at 9pm.

New Cool Feature

At Comet I created indices for my last two point five months of musings. I automated the process by simply copying the source of return results from Altavista (via the friendlier reformatting of Yahoo) for "musings of the gus" with irrelevant links removed and some corrections in order. I was able to do this since I always create a description META tag for all my pages as they are created. Thus the returns from the searches had descriptions for each day I'd written as I'd written them. It did not take long to create three pages of links using this process.

For linking purposes this article's URL is:

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