Wait a minute. Bert is not real? Then who asked me to send them a picture of my homemade guitar? My reality is shattered and I have been set a drift in a sea of uncertainty. Oh what a cruel fate has befallen me. Why me, what have I done to deserve this crushing blow to my fragile state of mind? What next pray tell, I suppose there are more among you who hide such truths. What are we doing here? We? Maybe I'm the only one. This could all be some sort of artificial intelligence (and I use the term loosely) online program that I've been communicating with. A secret government born plot to peer into my thoughts and to gauge how I would react to different stimuli. So I'm a guinea pig am I. Here to be toyed with no doubt. Okay who ever you are out there in cyberville, this is me and I'm not here to perform for your amusement.(Unless properly compensated for my efforts. Do you like funky blues? Cash only please.) I'm flesh and blood and I'm not going to take it any more, you hear! I'm mad as H-E-double hockey sticks and I ain't gonna take it anymore!