Larry Thack will write his dissertation on the movie “Akeelah and the Bee” or whatever else Laurence Fishburne sucked in

It was after midnight and cool when I stepped out of the air-conditioned airport. I was greeted by that comforting blanket of the South. The one that immediately wraps you in a moist, sticky, sweaty swaddle that now requires a shower. I have returned to town after a brief rest in a more pleasing climate and would just like to say thanks to everyone in town and specifically my neighborhood for not robbing me while I was gone.
Things are pretty well in order here. My garden continues to be unintentionally fallow. The deer seem to have visited but not for a meal – they just knock the ripe tomatoes off the plant and step on them. My trashcan is still full and in its place in the garage – my trashcan was once stolen to acquire my important papers and steal my identity. It was soon after returned. The siding on my hovel remains intact, and no one has taken my yard ornamentals.
I do have some work to do. It shall take me the better part of the week to listen to all my messages on the machine – I’ve only listened to a couple calls so far but I’ve already won a sweepstakes, had my Medicare cancelled, and missed a call from a grandchild asking for money – I need to follow up on this one post-haste as I have no grandchildren. I have a week’s-worth of episodes of “Restaurant Impossible” to watch. I’ll now thank the town to leave me alone for a week.