It's Morning in America

However, I am not fully awake yet.

Not being a coffee drinker definitely has its disadvantages. Stew is probably already bouncing off the walls like a cat that slept in a catnip patch. He's into the refrigerated mocha-frappo-espressocinos. I drink bottled water and, if I'm lucky, snag a granola bar on the way out of the house.

By the way, Stew's new mansion is palatially grand. I especially like the marble goldfish pond, which he has already mischeviously stocked with piranha. He told me he was planning on throwing a few coins in the pond and then inviting some lawyers over, just to see how long it takes someone to lose an arm. (My vote is F. Johnny Lee...although the piranha had better be careful, as he bites back.) He has to let the kids in on that prank though, as kids love to grab coins out of fountains, etc. Also, the dogs are carefully trained to avoid the pond as well, although little "Stumpy" learnt that lesson the hard way.

The lawyers have indicated to me that I should let everyone know that I'm kidding. They don't really have much of a sense of humour about such things, especially since they claim the exact scenario happened to one of their partners at Trump's place. ...And I thought the waterfalls were just for show.