In the words of Barry Manilow, looks like we made it, well sort of.

Hazzard County Knytes

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Why are you not a sleep you ask? Well there is a slight problem, that can pretty much be cured with about 4 bottles of bleach, a mop, and if I’m lucky they will all be dead. What I’m talking about, seams as though the grand Old Towne Lodge here in Twinky Flatts, has cockroatches so they have invaded my space. In doing so, they creep all over, knowledge gained via Google, says the little bastards do in fact bite and will consume flesh including human flesh, if they are hungry enough. So rather than be a side meal for the insects of death and being the dillweeds, hide in the light, I sleep when its daylight. But then I’ve always been a KnyteWolf any way. Been redesigning a ton of stuff, that I previously ignored, and if nothing goes sour, and Boss Hogg, don’t call an incomplete, well; the…

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