Thursday, December 08, 2005

Revealing Secrets is my Job

Sometimes when I'm curled up in a ball, in the fetal position, while lying on my bed under the covers with curtains drawn and the lights off in the middle of the bright bright day, I think sad thoughts, like about how we are evolved from monkeys, or maybe that whales are more advanced than us but we just don't know it, or how the aliens aren't happy with the latest secrets of theirs that I have just revealed on this blog.

These are the risks of being a collector of evolution theories. It is a very dangerous business. Why, just yesterday, I got a call from a mysterious source with a mysterious voice in a musical language, and I was told to remove someone's name from one of the entries. Apparently, I was getting too close to the truth, and I was asked very gently with no apparent threat to cease and desist. I refuse to kowtow to the aliens among us, and so I refused. For your benefit. Now I feel I have put myself at risk, once again. Just like the time I wrote about the pigs and their theory of evolution, and suddenly I started noticing certain "signs" that could only have been warnings left behind for me by powers that were appalled at what secrets I had revealed.

I deal in secrets, and sometimes certain "people" "decide" that these "secrets" are too secret to be revealed, even to you, my loyal reader(s). So I have decided to place all my secrets into a safe place that the aliens and the pigs and the Bush Administration Lawyers can't find. So if this blog should ever stop without warning, you'll know why. And now you know that you need to find all the rest of the unpublished secrets before the government and their alien pigs find them first.

p.s. my secret hiding place is in Fargo, ND, in the crook of a tree in Carlton Park. The one by the swingset. It's in a 4" x 4" x 6" metal box. The key to the box is in Champaign, IL, in the crook of a tree in Carlsbad Park. The one by the soccer fields. It's in a plastic baggy, 3" x 4", with my name on the label. That's Bob, B - O - B, Davis, D - A - V - I - S. If it has Philip Weverka's name on it, then you have the wrong tree in the wrong park in the wrong city in the wrong state in this great country of ours called the United States of America, and don't you forget it.

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