I Know. I Seriously Need To Just

And Standing Before Me A Bloodied Bottle Of Absolut In Her Hand, Is Mrs. Allington, Her Pink Jogging Suit Drenched, Her Chest Heaving, Her Eyes Filled With Contempt As She Stared Down At Rachel's Prone Body. Mrs. Allington Shakes Her Head. "i'm A Size Twelve," She Says.

Sometimes Between Lunch And Dinner, When There's A Lull, Jill And Shaniqua And I Will Sit Around And Fantasize About What We'd Do If A Real Celebrity Walked Into The Place, Like Chad Michael Murray (although We've Gone Off Him A Bit Since His Divorce) Or Jared Padalecki, Or Even Prince William (you Never Know. He Could Have Gotten His Yacht Lost, Or Whatever.)

Someone, I Was Beginning To Suspect, Had A Bit Of A Gangster Complex. It Wasn't Really Very Hard To Figure Out Who. I Mean, I Was Guessing It Wasn't Christopher's Aunt Jackie.

And Generally, When People Say Good Night, They Keep Their Tongues To Themselves.

Write The Kind Of Story You Would Like To Read. People Will Give You All Sorts Of Advice About Writing, But If You Are Not Writing Something You Like, No One Else Will Like It Either.