Corrections

I meant to also give a shoutout to one of my oldest and dearest friends, Chrissy, yesterday. She sent me the aforementioned box of Thin Mints. Thank you, Bits. Like Junior Mints, Thin Mints are very refreshing!

I call Citibank fairly regularly to check my account balance. That automated voice is so nice. But what I fully expect her to say is:

"Your current and available checking balance is: Zero Dollars. The available credit in your checking plus account is: Six Dollars. You have no money. Ever. A homeless person is less broke than you are. Do you understand? Homeless. You should be wearing 1986 white sneakers three sizes too large without shoelaces and smell like a shit blister on the ass of Horatio Sanz after he was ass-raped by someone yelling "you're not funny, you fat fuck!" But instead you're living in an apartment that anyone else would rent for $2500 and going to McDonald's with a credit card. What part of no money don't you get, you 29-year-old loser? Yes, you have fantastic hair, great friends and family that love you but the rest of your life pretty much blows. Okay, sure, Christopher Durang emailed you back . . . but you're not Christopher Durang. And Christopher Durang went to an ivy league school and had classmates like Sigourney Weaver."

Hey Hackett: Greggk and Jen are moving to NYC next week. I'm hoping to move in with them. East Gratton Street reunion, ya heard? Of course, they don't know that yet . . .