Keep the Bill Collector from yr door

Apologies for the few days we were down here at le Trent Affair. It was colder than a fresh bowl of breakfast cereal in the purgatorial wastelands, but yesterday I carried a nine-foot surfboard for two miles along a polluted canal because it was too big to fit in the car, and the sun was out, and I was wearing a black t-shirt, and as dark colors absorb heat I was warm like a fresh bowl of hominy grits. A whole can of strawberry guava juice hit the spot after. It prepared me to crawl for an hour through airport traffic.