Right now I’m in Biloxi, Mississippi at the Isle of Capri Hotel and Resort. The casino is downstairs, along with the requisite buffet and oxygen tank-toting senior citizens. I have a suite with a living room, bedroom and an enormous bathroom. There are three televisions — one in each room and it makes me feel dirty, considering I spent most of the day touring the battered Gulf Coast.

I managed to catch a bit of “Skating With Celebrities” on the bathroom TV. I must say, if there is a better show to watch on the toilet than “Skating With Celebrities,” I have yet to discover it.

There’s something about the music, the movement, and the C-list celebrities that is very conducive to digestive processes.

So, in case you haven’t been tuning in (frankly, neither have I), the celebrities left include Olympian Bruce Jenner (a man whose skin has been pulled so tight droplets of water can simply fall on his brow, bead and then roll off), talent chasm and nymphomaniac Jillian Barberie and Kristi Swanson, the original Buffy.

Even though it is notoriously a pansy-ass sport, figure skating can be really brutal. Can you imagine poor Debbie Gibson being sliced across the gut by a skate, leaving a trail of blood and body glitter on the ice? And what if Dave Coulier impales himself while attempting a double sowcow? Then again, should Jillian Barberie smash her face open on the ice, what has society really lost?

As a preemptive strike against the possibility that tonight’s episode of 24 will once again leave me with no choice but to yell “Shut UP. SHUT. UP!” whilst alone in my apartment, I’ve been playing the Worst Case Scenario game with myself re: Jack’s unfortunate offspring. I’d like to be emotionally prepared for Kim’s return to the show, so that I don’t break out in hives upon seeing her or, even worse, feel the need to distance myself from the greatest night of television based merely on her presence. So I think to myself: Cristin, what’s the worst possible thing that Kim could do to this season?

• Kim reports that Michelle’s recently departed soul has taken up residence in her body, and brought with it (along with all of the hair products that were obviously needed to tame Mdawg’s mane before she bit it in that car bomb)  all of Michelle’s intricate knowledge of counter terrorism, leaving Kim the obvious choice to run CTU while Curtis is getting fitted for a new bullet proof vest and Rudy is putting his crack-whore sister in a halfway house.
• Kim accidentally spots something on one of the scanners and makes an important realization about the location of the nerve gas, and after no one will believe her due to her current title of Stupid Housewife as opposed to her previous one of CTU Asskicker (or, really, Dumb Bitch Who Only Got Level 3 Clearance Because Of Her Last Name) she decides to steal Spencer’s gun and go after the bad guys herself, in the ugly ass brown wig she had to wear the first/last/only time she did field ops in that uber-dangerous (gasp!) college library.

Or… worst of all…

• Kim comes strolling into CTU holding a baby. Jack realizes he’s a grandfather. Kim does something stupid to endanger both her life and the life of Please God Lets Hope Some Genes Skip A Generation Bauer, and Jack has to reroute the investigation to save them.

Look, I don’t want it to happen any more than you do. But if it does… someone owes me a Coke.