Dear Neighbour Lady,
I know that you have moved to a new PMQ/RHU/SHED. I know because the U-Haul into which you loaded all of your worldly possessions, including a collection of 3 barbeques and what I hope was a cardboard cutout of Han Solo because it sure looked like one and that would be totally awesome, drove around the street and was unloaded into a marginally less small house.
Interesting. This means that in order to walk your dog at the park you will have to pass right by my front door, every day, snow or shine.
...
Are you just messing with me now? Because that seems like a pretty elaborate ploy to get my attention when all you a really had to do was put some pants on and answer your door.
Yours at a slightly further removed distance and now on the left,
Remote
