I'm with the line of thought to keep it upright, avoid idling on the side stand, and run it and monitor changes- oil on spark plugs, look down spark plug bore with a tight beam flashlight and check head of piston for oil or carbon build up. Keep an accurate eye on oil consumption. If it's cracked and leaking oil, you'll know soon enough.
On the other hand, I simply do not tolerate my bikes smoking. Years ago when I was building up bikes, I had the projects in one shed and the workshop for repairs. At the time, there were about a dozen pre units in various stages of basketcaseness up to solid projectness all sharing the shed awaiting their turn in the shop.
Returning from a trip to town one day, I arrived to find a blueish cloud of smoke pouring out of the workshop. I immediately grabbed the garden hose and headed quickly to the shop. On my way, I noted two things- first was that I didn't see any orange glow of flames, and secondly that the door was half open- the blueish haze billowing out. I approached quickly and cautiously, peering through the fog to see what was going on inside. It was a sight I'll never forget!
On either side of the work bench, there was a toppled over project bike lying gangly on the floor- along with two or three oil bottles. At the work bench itself, three of the more complete projects were propping themselves up, idling away! Staring in disbelief, I watched for a moment as one of the bikes took a long hard swig off a two gallon can of high octane gas, then followed it with a chaser from a gallon of thirty weight oil.
"What the hell is going on?" I bellowed at the three bikes. Instantly they all dropped down to the ground and rested on their side stands. "Shut those dang engines off, you're smokin' us out!" I hollered, and with a final misfire from the Thunderbird they all went silent, looking right at me hanging their headlights like a bad dog. As I alternately scolded them for their stupidity and pointed out how bad just idling away and smoking out their exhaust was for their engines, I perused the scene around me. Five different motorcycles -two of which were completely crumpled up and passed out- the high octane gas can, the gallon of thirty weight plus all the empty quart size bottles, and not to mention, there was a Ziploc baggie with just a couple of nuggets of what used to be my stash sitting right in the middle of this mess!
Well, I made the barely stable threesome stagger themselves back to the storage shed as I uprghted and rolled the two collapsed basketcases back, all the while swearing that as long as I own motorcycles, there ain't never gonna be another time where they sit idling about on their side stands, sipping up good high octane gas and motor oil, just smokin' away!