Today’s festive item, as viewed by the magic of 40 keV X-Rays. It’s a bit meta.
So, nine years of affable-lurking. That’s a lot longer than I thought I’d keep this up. Not that sporadically updating a website is particularly hard work.
The domain started as a laugh, a feeble ‘joke / pun’ for those in the know, then having paid for the domain for two years, putting some content here seemed like the thing to do. Nine years ago, blogging was all the rage, so let’s install some software and start writing. Well, I got the software installed, then kind of stalled at the second part. Most of what I’m interested in interests few other people, and what of that I do document goes on another site.
Perhaps I’ll make the tenth year of this site worth reading?
Fixing the archives has thrown up this post I drafted in 2006 and never got around to publishing. The dog and the old git are long since vanished – no idea whatever happened to them.
The 2006 post starts below this line.
Reminded of this by a post from Scaryduck today.
DTL vs the Fluff-Ball
The was and still is a misrable old bastard up the road from me. He walks a yapping bundle of fluff up the road twice per day, letting it shit where ever it wants. Complaints about this are shrugged of with
“its only a fuckin’ dog. I can’t stop it shittin'”
and several days of the dog ‘deciding’ to drop a load right outside your house.
It was after the poo stared to pile up on the pavement outside my house I decided to get revenge.
From the juices of the Sunday joint, I made up some of the tastiest gravy known to man or dog. Poured into a cup and left by the microwave ready for the evening dog walk.
Seven PM rolls by and the yapping gives away the approach of the dog. The microwave goes on to warm up the gravy and thirty seconds later I’m at the door, cup in hand. Waiting until the Miserable Bastard can see me, I pour the gravy over pile of shit remaining from the morning walk.
Fluff-ball scampers up seconds later and starts wolfing down the gravy covered shit in full view of Miserable Bastard. My job done, I head back inside to watch dog being dragged back home in disgust with the Miserable Bastard ranting and raving at the dog
“stupid fuggin dog”
and the world in general
I’ve had no trouble with that dog shitting outside the house since.
Will this be the year I update more regularly then every few months?
I dug out an old school book, from way back when I was 8-ish. Here’s a look at the random stuff I wrote about back then.