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:
   caffeine and valium
Tuesday, January 24 2012
Chase (the bank) called yesterday to tell us (in somewhat different language) that their algorithms had detected a mysterious charge of $1.55 on our Chase Saphire card. Unable to determine the source of this charge, we decided to scrap our old card and get a new one. Though they lose money from our use of it, Chase didn't want us to miss a single day with our card. So they overnighted us a replacement. The new card felt heavy in my hand, so, out of curiosity, I weighed it. The old card had weighed four grams while the new one weighs eleven grams. What could possibly be in it to make it so heavy?
It's not a normal thing even in our slacker-rich social circle, but this afternoon Gretchen and I went down to Ray and Nancy's house for a leisurely work-day lunch. Also in attendance was Carrie of Carrie and Michæl (he, at least, had to work). Ray had made a garlic soup with peas, a heavily-dressed salad with croutons, and little burrito-like rolls that turned out to be filled with tomato. Of those, I rhetorically asked before popping one in my mouth, "How can something that looks like this not be delicious?" But they were the weakest element of the meal; they tasted like cooked tomato and little else. Everything else, though was great.
Nancy made a pot of coffee on the big new Cuisineart coffee maker she and Ray had gotten for Christmas. Normally I have a strict framework that dictates my infrequent drinking of coffee, but I bend the rules for social occasions. That was how my day became caffeinated.
As the afternoon gradually passed and we still found ourselves hanging out in Ray and Nancy's living room, I kept wondering if there was no force in the universe capable of making the decision for us to leave. But I remained passive, not wanting to be the pooper of the party.
Eventually we did leave, and since the afternoon was a lost affair anyway, I agreed to go with Gretchen to Herzog's in Kingston to pick out some shade of orange paint (the hope is to breath new life into the part of the house immediately inside the front door). But then it turned out they didn't have the necessary base on hand, and none of the hues from the bases they did have were quite appropriate.
Unless there is some social reason to drink, I forswear alcohol every Tuesday, and that became a problem late this evening as my afternoon caffeine buzz failed to abate. The effects at this point were entirely negative: I was feeling jittery and even a bit nauseated. In desperation, I took a valium and tried to relax as I watched an AVI file I'd downloaded of this week's episode of the Bachelor.
I should have known better; valium (and various other oral depressant) don't work well with my chemistry. Sometimes they make me vomit and other times they just make me anxious. Tonight the valium seemed to conspire with the miserable effects of the caffeine by destroying my ability to form logical thoughts. Ideas seemed to float into my head and shamelessly contradict other ideas already there in jarringly discordant manner.


Of late there has been a proliferation of Facebook pages urging people to "Stand Up" for various draconian anti-immigrant laws that have been passed. The comment threads on these pages are quickly swamped with liberal trolls. Unfortunately, though, these posts usually don't last long (and the troller is quickly banned). Still, the other night, the Stand With South Carolina garden was left unweeded for hours, and today it was possible to get a few shots off at I stand with Texas against illegal immigration. One of my posts, which didn't last long, went as follows:

who is with me on banning so-called "ethnic aisles" from supermarkets. if we cut off their food supply, maybe they'll move somewhere else and take their anchor babies with them.

I should mention that I wouldn't have even known about these inane pages if Sara (from the days of Big Fun) hadn't kept goading me to go to them and be a troll.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/index.php?120124

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