The Name of the Smee, Part II

We are live outside the executive offices of Mr. Smitty’s blog for what is promised to be the revelation of the ne’er-to-fore spoken first name of the Smee.
While we wait for the first printout of the soon-to-be revealing posting, let’s go to our roundtable (please join our video conference) of Mr. Smitty experts.
First let’s go to professor Popoki, of Bahda U., author of SmellslikeSmee.com, a webring of discussion groups who dissect and analyze the blog postings of this website.
“Eh tanks brah. How you stay? You know we have the local-kine slant on stuffs so we look to interpret clues that relate to the ‘aina, yah? You know what is: “location, location, location”? Well, you could translate ‘em as: “da ‘aina, da ‘aina, da ‘aina,” yeah?
Anyway, we stay ready to translate the unspeakable (wen broke da mouth) name local-style, bumbai.”
Next, it’s professor Dat Wright, Flip Wilson Professor of Ebonics at the University of Nuffsaid.
“Yo, check it: Mr. Smitty has GOT to –
[in the immortal words of Polonius: “This is too long.” –ed. We will return at the first sign of content]
[Is that a promise? – other ed.]

Nomen-c(l)at-ure

Confusions have been swirling in the streets!
In some quarters, rumors abound concerning Mister Smitty’s first name (which they consider a secret held by this site (its subsidiaries, heirs, and aasigns) to be revealed only in that most tedious of ways, the Multi-Part Series.
Let’s recall some of those most dreaded multi-parted serieses, shall we?: There was the oh-(not)so-clever “Da Smitty Code,” the suspenseful “Plastic Trash Bag Mystery” (or was it “misery”?) and that most loathed of all multi-parters: “Da Vater Code” – a misguided attempt by bloggists to wrap the conundrum of the Smitty’s water drinking preferences inside the enigma of physics, weights and measures, etc. (Archimedes, passim).
[read it quickly, before it’s expunged! – ed.]
“ANY-way!”
Let it be said here that we intend no such depressing multi-partem postings. We understand from our chatrooms, comments, and snail-mail letters (including one composed of letters cut from magazines) that these serieses are odious in the extreme.
Nevertheless, since we have at present wandered so far afield of our purpose that we must apologize, we must cut this posting off at the head, lest it grow longer.
Sadly, the quest for the illusively unspeakable (first) name of the Smitty is –
T- B- C-NT-N--D!

Boxed-In

Mister Smee is in the box!

Mister Smitty likes to get hisself all up inside boxes (when, in the course of porch events, they occur)

“Mister, to state the obvious, it’s like the womb!”

Return to paradise. Return to forever. Paradise now. Jump here for eternity. If I could hold time in a bottle…

“Mister, it’s like packaged purring!”

Insane Posse of Clowns

Mister Smee has a posse!

Mister Smee has an entourage, his yes-men, his retinue, his sycophants, his homies, his crew, his bruddahs.

Mister Smee has peeps who’ve got his back. Their names?

Mister & Mister (and all our dear reader(s?))!