Seriously, everyone. Thanks for extending your warm feelings by going out of your way with three typed words and a mouseclick.

Lazy, I knew, but cheap, too?!?

For a belated birthday gift, a friend is taking me to see Patti Smith tonight------READ-----@ the Museum of Fine Arts.

I still wanna go. She's supposed to have been dead around the same time I was, so what the hell.

Besides, after 35 years of working at it, the program pic of her reveals that she has finally perfected the complete Keith Richards look. You could store pencils in her facial wrinkles.

I'll let you know tomorrow exactly how dull it was.

And see, when I'm lying, I always fess up. I'm not fessing about the 3-year-old with the poopy crucifix, though. No need.

Always call the place you live a house. When you're old, everyone else will call it a home.