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:
   like the father of an adolescent girl
Monday, August 23 1999
For the past couple days (including, ridiculously enough, Sunday), I've been coming home from work relatively early and sitting for a few hours in front of the television watching my favourite Fox network reruns. During this same period, the neighbor girl Lisa and sometimes even the other neighbor girl Nikki have been hanging out more than usual with Kim at our place. Since her boyfriend Andy took off for Las Vegas to work the casino circuit, Lisa has been living by herself in the apartment next door. I can't really figure out what exactly is going on with her in this new situation. Since I have such minimal involvement in the Ocean Beach community, even the cohesive bunch living in my own courtyard, it's all kind of a blur to me anyway. When Lisa or other next door neighbors are hanging out, my role is sort of like that of the father of an adolescent girl whom they've come to visit. I make a little small talk, laugh at their stories, crack open another beer, then kick back to obliviously watch the television.

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http://asecular.com/blog.php?990823

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