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:
   very bad men
Saturday, July 15 2006
After another day of spackle and drywall, Gretchen and I went to our first social call since she returned from the Adirondacks: at the residence of Jon, our friend the professional world traveler. He has a beautiful screened-in gazebo that his nubile young Tasmanian girlfriend suggests he should convert into an aviary. Tonight, though, we used it as a mosquito-free zone for the consumption of barbecued animal parts. There was actually plenty of good stuff for Gretchen to eat, but she was nonetheless appalled by the heaping pile of barbecued animal parts there for the eating. Sally and Eleanor, on the other hand, found the proximity of so much meat like a twitchy doggy dream come true. In the end they both managed to get some. For my part, I couldn't resist eating a few pieces of chicken myself.
Conversation wasn't all that exciting despite the variety of people who showed up. The Stone House People were there with their little daughter Paloma, who is an extremely precocious 2.5 years young. While her daddy was telling us about a recent anthrax scare against Bill Keller at the New York Times (the result of shock-radio-fascists calling for his execution for treason because he decided to publish a story about a widely-known international bank monitoring system designed to detect terrorist funding), Paloma came up and asked, "What are you talking about?" "Very bad men," said Mr. Stone House.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?060715

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