27 May 04

On Sunday morning, I awoke to find two cockroach corpses crushed on my mattress. I must have rolled on top of them in my sleep.

Two more inmates collapsed and were stretchered to the Medical Unit. Including Jose from cell 1, who, during a shootout over drugs with fellow Mexican Nationals, had received seventeen bullet wounds. The stitches holding his stomach in had loosened, and it appeared his internal organs were about to spill out.

Rumour has it the diabetic who entered a coma last week died, and the jail is under investigation.
We have been told for the past three months that the swamp cooler is "broken" and that a "work order" has been entered, but when the County Health Department inspected the jail on Tuesday and Wednesday, the air was blowing at gale force and the water in the shower was running hot enough to redden my skin. After the inspectors left the building someone immediately switched the air back to the broken setting. And it didn’t take long for the inmates to replace the semen that had been cleaned up from the shower floor.

Frankie is always in a high state of sexual arousal. He has solicited most members of our pod, including me, to be "boned down" and "turned out." His boldness has increased due to his followers egging him on. I am convinced that if all of our cell doors were simultaneously opened, half of the inmates would form an orgy.
Frankie now proclaims, "I'm takin' us back to the fuckin' Roman days! Call me Caeser the booty teaser!” One of Frankie’s new tricks is to have a neighbour throw him a "fishing line" (a long piece of string which inmates use to pass contraband from cell to cell with) so that he can tie it to his penis while his neighbour pulls on the string.

I received a large photograph in the mail. It exceeded the 4 x 6 inches allowed by the jail, so I was pleasantly surprised that it was not rejected by the mail officer. It was a picture of a bespectacled President Bush signing some documents. In the lower margin was a personalized message with my name on it: "Thank you for your support of the Republican National Committee. Grassroots leaders like you are the key to building a better, stronger, more secure future for our nation and all Americans... Best Wishes, George. W. Bush."

Now that the president has discerned my true nature, I am hopeful for a pardon!

1 comment:

Scouser said...

Chin Up Mate. Us scousers are made of sturner stuff. Don't let the bastards grind you down.