I Spy...

Very often, I am spied upon by various robotic individuals named Hymie from the show Get Smart to ensure that in actuality, I am being the fine upstanding example to all of humanity that I insist I'm being.

So I pretend I'm my son's one and only sculpture and eavestrough on the real spy, Chris, under the cone of flatulence, with the help of The Chief, Agent 99 and Hymie.

This doesn't always work. I don't know where the green flatulence machine went. Donn has one but he retired it. I once blogged about it, but go find it yourself if you must.

I have no idea why, but I took a shot of my apartment door.I Continuing on, here is the hallway below that I have seemingly walked for months. Now, of course, I am walking outside and terrorizing people. Better bring down the Cone of Silence!
Here below is me taking aim at somebody. Do NOT try this at home.
Here is the real me, below, trying to figure out all this complex stuff.

Blogging's Extinction

For some reason, I can't seem to copy and paste it. But I had two visitors in the past two weeks. So who am I writing for? It's the old falling tree in a forest trick.

If nobody hears it fall, DID it fall? DID it die? Yes, it did. The tombstone will read: "Blogging R.I.P...a victim of little blurbs -- farcebookisms -- of thought." And as with all deaths, we will lament its passing.

We will also lose what intellect we had left, out of non-use. That's evolution. What isn't used becomes a victim of extinction.