Now, telling you would spoil all the fun, wouldn't it?
I can't say I like this idea.
Blogs are connected to computers and computers have routers which have IPs which can be tracked by evil incarnate.
Speaking of the government.
Spencer, I don't know what in the world is going through your head while your brain floats in that moonshine I made for you well over a month back, (you're not supposed to drink it after more than two weeks, you idiot!) but this is a bad, bad, bad idea. You know I have beef with men in suits and not just the slender ones.
Name's August St. Claire.
I don't believe we've met.
I specialize in building and problem solving. Before I got caught up with the lush currently sitting across from me and downing another bottle of bourbon, (apparently now through my last five quarts of moonshine - Jesus man, how are you not dead yet?) I worked on a farm. We weren't your run-of-the-mill grain-and-leather harvesters, though; papa and I specialized in aliens. More specifically, crop circles and UFOs. To narrow the margins further: faking them.
It started off easy enough. Throw some paper shapes on the ground and arrange them until they make a pretty picture, the blow it up about 150 times and press it into your corn field. When people began to grow bored and the crop circles weren't paying the bills, we switched to UFOs. When those failed? Fake aliens, made out of chicken, pastries, and a whole lot of eggs and honey to hold it all together.
Let's just say that we got so good that we started getting a little too much attention.
You see, I've been followed by men in suits my entire life.