Don't Get Stabbed. It Makes Everything Awkward.

I Have No Phobias. Phobias Are Irrational. My Fears Are Rational And Carefully Cultivated, Like Roses.

We're Going To Die," Keith Said, The Moment He Was Gone. "this Man Is A Serial Killer. We're Going To Die, And He's Going To Bury Us In His Garden And Build A Shed On Us.

Stuart, Who Had Just Witnessed Me Go Through An Entire Rainbow Of Emotions And Experiences. There Was Parents-have-just-been-jailed Me, Stuck-in-a-strange-town Me, Insane-and-can't-shut-up Me, Kind-of-snarky-to-the-strange-guy-trying-to-be-helpful Me, Breakup Me, And The Extremely Popular Jump-on-top-of-you-unexpectedly Me.

You Don't Know Me Yet," I Said. "rory Was Telling Me She Lives In A Swamp," Charlotte Said. "that's Right," I Said, Turning Up My Accent A Little. "these Are The Very First Shoes I've Ever Owned. They Sure Do Pinch My Feet." Jerome Gave A Little Snort.

Rory: "people Are Being Serious." Jazza: "there's A Serial Killer Out There. Of Course People Are Being Serious." Rory: "yeah, But What Are The Chances?" Jazza: "i Bet All Of The Victims Thought That." Rory: "but Still, What Are The Chances?" Jazza: "well, I Imagine They Are Several Million To One." Jerome: "not That High. You're Only Dealing With A Small Part Of London. And While There Might Be A Million Or More People In That Area, The Ripper Is Probably Focusing On Women, Because All Of The Original Victims Were Women. So Halve That--" Jazza: "you Really Need Another Hobby.