I don’t get the Hollywood Hills. It’s cramped, there’s nowhere to park, and every time you run out of liquor it’s twenty arduous minutes to the store. But I suppose that’s the price you pay for privacy.
Looks private enough—
—and it is an impressive three-story structure…
…but that sixteen narcos would wind there way up there to bust some tea-blowing agony piper, that puts me off the Hills for good.