OK, alto and David Montgomery, I get it. It’s the roof. Sure, I could and would pitch a tent. But then, I’d need to borrow a shower now and then, More now than then. And walking/running the dogs would be problematic, to say the least. And the cats? The birds? The bunny?
Ah, the irony.
Well, as soon as the rooftop is condominimized, I trust you will let me know. Until then, we’ll remain Medium-pals. Sigh. I was just beginning to anticipate the klink-klink of the martini pitcher and aroma of sautéed onions, as Mr. Molsely, Poppy, and Esmé romped and chewed on each others’ faces and we exchanged bizarre funeral stories (hold that thought).
See you in the movies.