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kacked.com



The Resurrection of Kacked

/images/DoggieStyleBirthdayParty.pngBeen working on switching my weblog engine from Wordpress back to Blosxom. Seems like I been doing it forever and ever and ever. This was made more complicated by the fact that most everybody is or has switched the other way. Plenty of weblog posts to find on google concerning switching from Blosxom to Wordpress.

So it's kind of like doing archeology. Digging through a lot of writings to see how people used to do it. Lot of stuff missing. I've had to hack quite a bit on the blosxom script itself and various plugins. It's a mess. But it's my mess...

Decided tonight it was time to just put it online. Maybe if someone besides me is looking at it, I'll work on it more. That and I get to actually write something again.

Help me out testing the commenting system. It works. I think.


Playing Chicken

I was thinking tonight about this problem I had cleaning up after cooking. Actually it's an ongoing thing --I like to cook but doing the dishes afterward is difficult at best. I can't remember now what it was I had cooked but I remember well the incident of the pot...

I think it was chicken. I had eaten most of it, having cooked it in a large casserole pan and then leaving it sitting by the sink thinking I would clean it "later". Several weeks later I noticed it was still there. The pan was covered so there was no detectable odor.

You know how it goes (or maybe you don't, and that's why I'm telling you.) Sometimes the things which are not seen grow larger in the mind than they actually are. I toyed with the idea of a summary execution. Wrapped securely with duct tape it might not offend the homeless people who dug through the trash for cans. Perhaps even going to the trouble of fashioning some kind of warning sign which I could firmly attach. But then I kept thinking about the hassle a bachelor has acquiring new housewares.

Several months later... I looked at the pan. The pan looked back. It taunted me. I snapped. Thinking: "I'll be damned if this pan is going to get the better of me", I wrapped an alcohol soaked bandana around my face and pounced. I lifted the lid. The pan fought back, striking me in the face with a noxious green cloud. Instant projectile vomiting. Lucky for me the sink was close by. Bested by a casserole pan. What can I say. I wrapped it up and threw it away.


All Hail

Woke up to a big hail storm. Over quick, only lasting 20 minutes or so. Biggest hail I've ever seen. I'm not kidding they were half inch across. We thought it was going to break a window.

Dog freaking out, trying to hide under everything, pissing on the floor. Cable tv went down but internet stayed solid. Even the weather has it's priorities.


The Pope -- Fear and Loathing In The Trenches

Earlier tonight I got to listen to Steve going on about [what in his mind was] a big controversy:

"If the pope dies during the end of the game will they interrupt the game to talk about it?"
"If they do, it's possible that they'll miss the final score and if they don't they'll probably piss off the catholic viewers."

"Either way there's going to be a lot of pissed off people if the pope dies during the end of the game..."

Later I was in the texas equivalent of a 7/11. The indian guy behind the counter asked me how I was doing. I says: "I'm ok and all except for the pope dying", and he says: "oh... he was catholic wasn't he?"



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