When I was in the clink, I had to trade favours. It doesn't matter now what I wanted-but let me tell you, minimum security is still prison. Some of those embezzlement bitches formed tough cliques around the gazebo in the exercise yard. Since people knew who I was, they came to me with questions. I could usually refer them to the issue of my award-winning magazine in which they could find the techniques I taught. In return, I learned about certain ingredients I didn't employ when I started my catering company in Connecticut. And let me tell you, these additions are a damn good thing. [continues 1126 words]