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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got that wrong
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Like my brownhouse:
   completely normal for cats
Saturday, April 8 2017
Eva's party began at 4:00pm, and on the way there we were part of a spontaneous three-car caravan led by Sarah the Vegan (driving from near where the 199 crosses the Hudson) followed by the Chris & Kirsty from Zena Road, followed by us. Gretchen had made two kinds of dumplings and that cake (which had to fixed after a minor disaster). There ended up being a big spread of dumplings, pasta dishes, and perogies made by Eva in the traditional manner of her Polish ancestors. This ended up being a bigger party than usual at this residence, with Eva's kid brother and his wife there, the overly-normal neighbor and his woo-woo trophy girlfriend, and, later, two couple who drove up from the City. I had a fairly long conversation with Eva's brother (he has an unpronounceable Polish name) about working remotely, something he doesn't do but would like to. (He works for a small non-profit as its only full-time paid employee, and does a little of everything.)
The best food tonight was, surprisingly, Sarah the Vegan's collard greens & alphabet-pasta soup, which came complete with white bean meatballs.
We hadn't brought our dogs, so there was no issue when Dawn showed up with her neurotic dog Polypore. Without Neville there to piss on the couch, it seems I had to subconsciously channel him by spilling red wine. I set my glass down on the coffee table in a part near the edge where a divot of wood had been removed as part of its rustic production. The glass slid down the divot and spilled against the couch. Fortunately, it's made of a wonder material and cleaned up perfectly.

An hour or two before we were to leave, Gretchen noticed me sitting off to the side a little and tried to encourage me to move my chair in closer to the rest of the people at the coffee table. But no, I was perfectly comfortable where I was even if the endless flyovers of major world cities on the room's big screen was getting a bit tiresome (though no less hypnotizing). Gretchen later said that she'd feared I'd smoked too much pot and that that accounted for what she perceived as my antisocial behavior. But no, that was not the case.

We stayed at the party a long time, but since it had begun so early, we were back home well before 10:00pm. I took a bunch of diphenhydramine and went to bed early. [REDACTED] Charles jumped up on the bed as I visited various websites with my Chromebook, and I petted him until he'd had too much and transformed into a somewhat more vicious version of himself. We'd been warned about this by the crazy cat people who'd given him to us. It's completely normal for cats to be this way, though none of our other cats actually are this way.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?170408

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