I've never been to prison. (I was in jail once, a long time ago, for a couple of hours. Nothing very dramatic happened. One guy, Crazy Charlie, said I was "his bitch" though. He didn't do anything other than say that. He still sends me a Christmas card every year. It always just says "Hello Bitch" inside. I usually don't write him back.) But I still think I know what must be the absolute worst part about being in prison: the meals. Think about it; all day long you're doing the mind-numbing and spirit breaking litany of standard prison routines like doing laundry, lifting weights, getting new neck tattoos, avoiding being sodomized and/or trying to sodomize someone. Your only respite is chow time, when you get to sit down, relax and eat a hot delicious meal. Except that's when somebody, possibly YOU, gets shanked with a toothbrush that was sharpened by filing it against a metal bed frame. This is almost inevitably followed by a riot where everybody totally forgets the guy (possibly YOU) who's bleeding to death and writhing in agony as a brawl breaks out around him. And this happens three times a day! Honestly, the idea of that makes me just want to kick back in my cell and count my blessings over a nice glass of freshly brewed toilet wine.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment