If the GRPL collective’s appliquéd sweaters and Santa caps aren’t Charlie Brown-ish enough, with a misshapen dwarf tree, it’s downright Mary Tyler Mooresian with a cheese ball that looks rolled in mulch and a Jonestown of mushy shrimp felled around rivulets of cocktail sauce.
Once Adele opens the floor to any announcements, I make mine. This will represent a good dry run for the disbelief from friends and colleagues.
“I’m selling Great Rooms!”
When my attorney Raoul had called to triumphantly talk about a settlement, I let him go first. Tarantella’s insurers had prevailed upon his team, pointing out I didn’t join legal forces with anyone else. This, to them, demonstrated a willingness to negotiate out of court, without a seated jury, for-hire experts, and reconstruction specialists.
“T
