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“He’s all upset. Said he’s got the wrong colored clothes. Says he’s paranormal”.
“Are you sure he doesn’t mean paranoid?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“That fuckin old bastard did it again. Drove his fuckin car right into Burger King.” Points to a short older guy ahead, “He’s something else.”
“What?” I ask, “Bacon?” “Listen!”
“He’s got multiple personalities. On popcorn night smashed his head. Blood all over his bed. Popcorn. “Wonder what that tasted like?” “Probably a Bloody Mary.”

In here we have mispronunciation. Misrepresentation. Insanity. Out there – how can you get your cheap ass super hot coffee & fatty fatty breakfast without risking your life? Ah…another weekend.

Strange whether here. Or there. Weekends have their own personality. Character. Let’s rush & do nothing. Except of course if you work weekends. Then your weekends are picked & chosen. Either way it’s laziness & a teaspoon of discipline. Frankly you do nothing. Some have school, jobs, programs. Some just time. All the time in the world & all the time won’t put you back together again. Ah… weekends.

And again if I haven’t already said, mentioned – prison is different in Wisconsin. Very different in Osh Kosh. Osh Kosh is the sex offender prison for this state. And believe me when you hear some of the stories there are no questions why those men are here.

I read a few articles recently about prison & people’s views. Experiences. One was by a kid who was imprisoned in South Korea for smuggling hash in from the Philippines. Interesting story. Just a lot of the same –o. Oh well. Then I read the next month’s issue & in the letter’s section one reader was irritated. Miffed. Whatever. That kid expressed no guilt. Who are we? What are we? Look – the kid made a mistake, got caught, got sick, some amazing stories. Did his time. Well for one, his crime made sense. A huge profit & doing a service for hash heads. He wasn’t smuggling coke or smack or even guns. Oh well. Everyone wants justice. Boy this world must be so enlightened. Like a single bud of joy – perfect. Wake the fuck up you sniveling rat – who are you Carry Nation’s grand nephew? We all want safety & protection & security so let’s lock them all up.

Scooter Libby is freed. I suppose now they would have executed Ezra Pound. Let’s give Oscar Wilde 95 years. Well Virginia Albert Fish ate Santa Claus – now go to fucking bed!