Look, I’m not Henny Youngman. My responsibility isn’t solely to entertain, which I’ve proven in the past.

Sometimes I just gotta blow off steam.

I  had a big trauma today.

I was preparing to have company for dinner so I figure the least I can do is take out the weeks of garbage that I have accumulated. Elvis followed me into the hallway.

Since David and Liz are in Quogue and the French people down the hall are in Europe, or wherever France is, I decide to leave my door open so the boys can enjoy the hall.

After awhile I noticed that  Elvis hasn’t returned from his outing so I go into the hallway only to see that the the door to the fire stairs is open.

I immediately ran back to my apartment to see if he came back without me noticing. If you remember the shoe incident from a few days ago you’ll realize that that was entirely possible.

No cat. I grab a book to hold the elevator door open on each floor  while I start my search. I live on the eighteenth floor but I decide to start at the Penthouse because, well he could have gone up or down.

I could drag this out by telling you how my search went and how my heart was beating the whole time but I’ll save you from that.

I found him on 8. He was shaking like a leaf.

We hugged and kissed and now he’s home and back in his old routine.

Hiding so he can scare Ray

And catching forty

It’s been a tough morning.