I'm having computer problems right now and for some reason I am unable to log in and re-up my cookie. I note that I have two personal messages that I can't get at. So if the person or persons who sent them to me reads this, sorry for the delay, but I'll get back to you as soon as I get the problem solved. In the meantime. . . .

I just had another communiqué from Cyril.

Don't be fooled by this business of Martin Gibson going on vacation—or that he doesn't want to waste his literary talents (talk about a member of a null-class!) writing for free for us bums. Nothing but a feeble excuse, folks. The truth is that, in addition to his other obvious handicaps, he probably won't be able to type for several days (his last message was typed by someone else). It seems, according to Cyril, that Marty had grandiose notions that he could write something brilliant (at least in his own estimation) and completely dazzle us, but he was completely stuck for ideas (not an unusual happenstance in his life). While he was rummaging around for material to use, somebody slammed the toilet seat on his fingers.

Don Firth