04 Nov 04
Frankie is here. As I write this blog I can hear his loud and distinct cackle. He is causing uproar in a neighbouring run by hitting on young Chicanos, just like he did at the Madison Street jail with Yum-Yum and Cupcake.
“Hey sexy, you wanna be my celly? Don’t be afraid.”
It will take Frankie up to three months to find out which prison he is going to. Maybe he’ll follow in my footsteps and I’ll get to blog his liaisons with the cheetos. Hopefully, he’ll have forgotten about chasing my behind by then.
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