Well, we have been working very hard this week. Between days on rooves and nights playing ball in the gym, some of us are worn out. As one of the natives would say, "I'm doggone tired, I tell you what."

But I've had one problem plaguing me this whole time: gas. Not what we have to put in the vans every other day, but wretched, malodorous, flatulence. It must be something in the food. Or perhaps I've inhaled a lot of asphalt. Either way, I've grown accustomed to having a five foot radius of nobody but me and immobile objects that don't have olfactory senses.

That's what's going on down here and Alabama. Hope y'all are having fun in the old north state.

Yours truly,
Parker "P$" Creekmoore