Spot's in a metaphor-mixing mood today, boys and girls, so you will have to forgive him when he says that the blog Chihuahuas have been baying in their own peculiar strangled little way for Spot's identity for a long time.
But now it's out there.
It is really a testament to the investigative skills of the winger bloggers, most of whom Spot has met over the last couple of years, that one of them has apparently finally figured it out and started an excited Chihuahua yapping. Spot's even met this most excited of Chihuahuas.
Spot's cantankerous correspondent Dave - who Spot is sure isn't the source of the information, by the way - recently observed to Spot that any idiot (well, he didn't say idiot; that's Spot editorializing) who wanted to know who Spot was merely had to show up at Drinking Liberally, the salon where Spot advertises his attendance every week. You see, Dave has known who Spot is since Spot crated up and sent the books we collected at DL for the Red Bulls in Iraq.
What changes can you look forward to now, boys and girls? Regrettably, perhaps, none. Spot hasn't and doesn't write stuff he is ashamed of. The reason for the pseudonym in the first place was not because of that.
Rather, it is because - and here's the last metaphor, Spot promises - he prefers not to have some chimpanzee, a species incapable of actual speech as you all know, express himself the only way he can, symbolically, on the side of Spot's house. I guess if it happens, we'll know the suspects.