Maybe One Day, I Would Write A

I Hate You' She Said To Me One Afternoon. 'i Really, Really Hate You.' Call Me Sensitive, But I Couldn't Help But Take It Personally.

I Like Listening To Books As Well, As That Way You Can Iron At The Same Time.

I Guess My Guilty Pleasure Would Be Listening To The British Audio Versions Of The 'harry Potter' Books.

But Instead I Am Applying For A Job As An Elf. Even Worse Than Applying Is The Very Real Possibility That I Will Not Be Hired, That I Couldn't Even Find Work As An Elf. That's When You Know You're A Failure.

At The Morgue, People Were So Desensitized That They Would Eat Lunch In The Glass Walled Room Adjacent To The Autopsy Room. A Viewing Room. Because It Had The Best Air Conditioning In The Building. So They Would Eat In There And Maybe Somebody Would Come In Who Had Been Found After Being Dead For Three Days And They Would Say: That Is The Exact Purple I Want For Those Drapes In The Study. They Didn't Miss A Beat. They Could Eat Through Anything.