Another warm day at Berea-Rose. And soon it will be quitting time -- I shall recline in the backyard and read a book, maybe drink some Fortissimo.

But first I will spray copious amounts of bug-repellent -- was out chatting with the neighbors last night and the mosquitoes feasted on my blood. My legs itch like mad and I probably contracted malaria.

See what happens when it finally rains?

We're still waiting for Frylock to post his cloak-and-dagger tale of Las Vegas intrigue (apparently, a secret agent entertainer was caught smuggling a secret message scrawled on special spy-paper -- the suspense is killing me).