I procrastinate all morning. That's when I get my office work done and answer e-mails and see what's on the Internet and do laundry.

I've always had rock star envy. Unfortunately, writing is a pedestrian, tame occupation done while sitting in coffee-stained pajamas in front of a computer rather than prowling around a huge stage in sweaty leather pants, so I have to get my kicks vicariously.

If you've got cockles, those nickel-size, heart-shaped mollusks, and you want to get fancy, steam them, then toss the meat in finely ground cornmeal.

I never see myself as writing satire. I think I write about people as they really are, without making them better or worse.

On Halloween, kids get to assume, for one night the outward forms of their innermost dread, and they're also allowed to take candy from strangers - the scariest thing of all.

But the Internet has made it possible for the box office to have an official record of who is coming. So you don't have to worry about losing your tickets.