SOMEONE IS WATCHING!

In the internet age there are eyes everywhere. Besides the ghosts, I mean. So everything the bald degenerate in Marin County does is, in some way, recorded. Even when he switches cigar preferences from Tatuaje Blacks to Mortal Coil by CAO, it is remembered in a file somewhere. Not that anyone other than obsessives have any interest in that.
There is just too much data.

Some paranoid conspiracy adherents believe that birds don't exist, those are actually cleverly designed governmental drones watching us and recording our every move. This started as a joke in 2017 (a genius prankster in Memphis), and, as such things do, spread to the gullible segment, where it took hold and infected weak spongy minds. As such things do.

One of my favourite nutball theories is the one that most of Germany believes; Dutch is not a real language, it's something that was invented back in the fifteenth century to pull wool over the ears of normal people (Germans) and keep them from understanding what those mercantile brainiacs to the west were planning.

It actually isn't a paranoid conspiracy theory at all, but a solid fact.
It's worked phenomenally well so far. Totally snookered them.
But bird drones, obviously, are nonsense, sadly.
No one is that interested.

On the other hand, well-trained tree rodents pensively checking up on what the people in Arkansas are doing is a very real possibility after those scientists at the National Instute of Mental Health found a way to reduce their nut obsession. Specialized breeding, genetic manipulation, and brain washing, happily combined to produce a super sciuromorph.
And it has workable hands and opposable thumbs.

Which explains why Peterson Pipes got taken over five years ago, the very same year that McClelland Tobacco supposedly went out of production. The easiest way to bribe a Borg Squirrel is with good tobacco, and sensible pipes. Naturally they prefer the system standard; it's easily disassembled and cleaned, can be hidden in hollow tree trunks, and the bend is just right for a small sentient pest that blends into the woodwork.


Personally, I own over half a dozen Peterson System pipes. Including a beautiful shape 303, unsmoked, perfect grain, which I'm saving for my next girlfriend. Naturally it's hidden.
There are furry tailed spies everywhere.


I haven't bothered hiding my four-year supply of McClelland pipe tobaccos, it's stacked with all the other sealed tins. They're not able to open them up; not enough strength or leverage in those tiny paws.

Haven't smoked any of it in years.


This morning's walk with a pipe involved something from Cornell & Diehl, in a Peterson 312.
I couldn't escape the sense that tiny eyes were watching me.
And sniffing disdainfully.



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