Hard Knock Life'n

Its getting worse.

Day 2

Awoke beat. Signed in (we sign in about 10 times a day!). Went back to bed until chow time. Ate and went to see the nurse when the speaker told me to. The speaker is like the voice of GOD declaring actions of the righteous. I get to the nurse and after a search she finds an inhaler, still not mine, and I hit it hard. I go to take it with me and find out I cannot. WHAT THE FUCK!? I can only have it the two times a day that the nurse comes, and any other time I feel I need it, I must go to medical like the night before. Asthma is not a disease with a schedule. The nurse gave me the plastic dispenser to keep. Gee, THANKS! Then she asked if the COs could keep the medication in their office in case I need it. I thought, “OK this will work.” NO! It is against the rules. Everybody is afraid to get into trouble even those working with the system!

Fine, I will just have to hit it twice a day at the times the nurse visits. “Just listen for the voice of the almighty directing his herd for notification of the nurse’s arrival!” That did not work. The night of the second day, I missed medication. Nobody informed me that the nurse comes with morning and evening chow and that it is not always announced. Chow came at 5:00 pm and I waited for the blasted “word of GOD” until 10 pm. I then asked a CO if the nurse had come. “She comes at chow.” God dammit! If I have rules to abide by, LET ME KNOW THEM FIRST! Thank goodness the night went well; not too tight. But I worry. On a side note, the CO who let me go to medical at the JC asked how I was doing. Thanks for treating me like a human and not property, like CO Fowley!

As for counseling, there is not much. We could complete the 10 days in 4 if they would buckle down. I think part of this is to see the 30-60 dayers. The big event for the day was that the COs actually let us out for outdoor recreation. Basically, I just sat and twiddled my thumbs and listened to some of the deafening ignorance. Don’t get me wrong, not all the guys are bad, but many are here just to get out of jail and do not see their problems. Some are classic examples!

Here is an example of the bullshit infiltrating my brain: This dude, let’s call him “cut your damn ponytail cuz you are a balding junkie” (or DJ-Dude Junkie), starts to tell a couple of guys sitting at the picnic table that he will get some "good food." He proceeds to explain that he was checking out the window in the Rec room and knows that there is no alarm. “How you gonna get food up there?” one smarter idiot jests. “A rope!” DJ whispers, “My boys will bring us anything we want. Pizza, burgers, anything. They don’t give a fuck. We get a screwdriver and get the window out. All somebody has to do is keep the COs busy.” “I can do that!” another knucklehead grunts approvingly. WHAT THE FUCK ARE THESE MUTHER PIECES OF SHIT THINKING!? Is this the great escape...or better...Hogan's Heros? LeBeau, Carter… You go in the yard and keep Schultz busy and I will keep Klink busy in his office. Newkirk (Richard Dawson) you strap the bomb on the motorcade escorting Hitler, which for some reason is passing through our POW camp. HOGAN!

Next outside, a group of weak armed little girls, one with a cross with “TUPAC” tattooed on his arm (he is a white guy), were throwing a football. The ball rolls past our boundary (still in the yard, though) and one dude goes and gets it. The asshole military reject CO comes over (he wasn’t paying attention at first) and says “Next time, you’ll be wearing a target on your back!” Sure. Shoot a man for getting a football with all these witnesses. Just imagine the paperwork. Then asshole CO tries to bond with the inmates by telling stories of women stripping and showing tits at rec times. Also, he describes how “Cicero’s is the club to get ass.” It is a classy club too.” He walks away and the criminals talk about how they know where to find the CO to kick his ass. I thought that was funny. The CO also was telling us about his first DUI. This is probably and exaggeration, but he explained how many COs have DUIs and how they get promoted sooner. Great standards in the legal system. Being outside, I just want to walk home, it would take me 15 minutes.

Better Updates in August

this giant catfish is the perfect metaphor for my life


I'm sorry I've been so neglectful.
Lots of work, both with my salaried work, and working hard at avoiding work.

I did recently write some really horrible post about some woman's inneffective tailoring to ease excess pressure on her gunt. It was ugly, unfunny, and I'm lucky my computer crashed as I saved it.

Let the rest of us know what you've slacked on recently.

time and money

This post is mostly a commentary on the passage of time and money. One year ago today I tore my ACL during a very unexciting scrimmage on a bone-dry field in NE Portland. Looking back it seems like it was only yesterday that I drove off in search of crutches so that I could stop driving around and actually walk. Over the course of roughly 7 months I paid out about $3,000, lost a bunch of muscle, gained some weight, rehabbed like a mo-fo, and now things are pretty much back to normal.

This week I bought a bike and simultaneosly got my car worked on....good timing yes, but the costs were exactly the same. Seems like life is just a cycial thing. You have money, health, whaterver, then you don't, and you run on a deficit for some time before you climb out of it. Only to have it start all over again. Seems to hold true for most things and most people. If you have no money troubles, then your deficits may appear as low spots in love, family, work, etc. I guess without balancing challenges life would be boring.

No real talking theme here other than cycles, circles, deficits, and surplus.

Round 2

There was not a horrible reaction to the "Jail Journal," so Day 1 continued.


CO (corrections officer) Fowley went through the rules of the facility with Dave Vetter and I. He asked if we were ever in the military. We both have not been, which evidentially made it “more difficult” to explain the rules to us. I could tell by the perplexed look on his tiny noggin. “My rule is, you don’t get me in trouble and I don’t get you in trouble!” I see this as, “I do shit wrong all the time. Please don’t tell and I won’t be an overwhelming dick!” Seemed like he liked to call us “county property” and “inmates.” I think he was having rape fantasies. He also got great pleasure in repeatedly reminding us that if we left or tried to leave the facility, that is considered escape and we would either “wear a target on our back” or “ have a bullet in our spines!” OUCH! The military probably rejected this guy for being too much fun.

Mr. Personality released us and immediately the 30-60 day chairman wanted us to come with him to go through the rules and procedures. Let me interject that Dave Vetter and I are the only 10-day guys in this session, the rest of the inmates are 30-60 day treatment inmates. This is their ticket out of jail. They need to make progress and complete the program to be released. They resent us 10 dayers for not being at their level of criminality and for “just visiting” compared to them. Vetter was place in a room and this pushed one of the residents to move to another room. This guy would not stop bitching about this and gives Vetter repeated dirty looks as if Vetter had a choice of rooms.

Back to the tour that I started before. The chair walked us around and explained “off limits” to us in his monotone hill jack voice. Don’t get me wrong, he seemed like a nice dude, but he takes this duty to heart. Next, he sat us down and read the same rules to us that the CO read 10 minutes before. OK! OK! I GET THE FUCKING RULES! DO WHAT YOU ARE TOLD AND DON’T ESCAPE! We were assigned chores (I got 2nd floor bathrooms) and after a brief orientation from a counselor, we were free (so to say).

Asthma Problems:
I do not take my asthma lightly! I guess the justice system does not share my views. I called before I went, I asked repeatedly at the JC and twice at the Talbert House (Turning Point) to make sure my inhaler arrived to meet me. I was assured it would. My inquiries were answered with “wait until the nurse comes at chow time.” OK, she will bring it to me, no problem. The nurse comes and guess what. No inhaler, it was not even told to her to bring one even though I told many at the JC, including the medical personnel. She said she would bring one in the morning. This worried me a bit because I was kind of tight in the chest. That night I tried to sleep, but could not relax because my breathing had gotten tighter, probably due to the new and dusty environment. I sucked it up as long as possible, but I knew it would not improve. I made my way downstairs to see the CO and scared the b’jesus out of some chick in hot shorts standing outside of the CO’s office. Evidentially, the girl that was at the bus stop and all the inmates were hootin’ and hollarin’ at from the windows earlier was waiting for a cab. She darted into the office and let out a faint gasp when she saw me “descending upon her!” The CO rushed out to see what my problem was and informed me that I would have to go to medical at the JC. “My fiancé could not just run an inhaler up!” he explained. He was actually really nice about the ordeal. He told me to wait in my room, I waited for about an hour total.

The shuttle cam and they put me in, with cuffs on. The driver was a lad, younger than me, and was real cool. He put the air conditioner on to help me and continually asked if I was all right. We drove by the Kroger in E. Walnut Hills, which was all taped off because of a shooting. In the two days in here, I think I have seen that there have been 4 shootings in Cincy (probably average one per day for ten days). Shit ain’t good, more to come! So, I get to the JC and the transportation CO walks me to medical, talking about how his friend has asthma and that he understands the situation. They give me an inhaler, mine is still evidentially in property, and I hit the sweet sweet life sustainer. I had not been that tight when I walked into medical, probably because I was out of the “new” environment. One nurse measured my lung capacity; I was at 98%, 1% better than the transportation CO. The nurses, I think, thought I was faking. I was shuttled back to get my full four hours of sleep.

Old Jail Journal

I was cleaning out my old laptop to sell and found this old jail journal. Thought I would drop it since I think it is a bit entertaining and interesting...I will release bit by bit.


The Unintentional Convict

The following is a journal from my time incarcerated with the Hamilton County Justice System. I was in a drug assessment facility as penalty for the two DUI offenses that I have accumulated. Don’t get me wrong; I was an inmate and property of Hamilton County. This journal may seem a bit disjointed because I copied it verbatim from the 5” x 8” legal pad provided to me; I wrote of ideas and situations as they happened. As a result, there is quite a bit of foul language which I have chosen not to censor; so sensitive ears be warned. I hope this account provides some entertainment and may serve as a deterrent to following in my footsteps by providing a record of my ordeal in jail.

Day 1
Let’s see if I get it all straight. Boredom is provided in abundance so I decided to keep this journal. I arrived at the Justice Center (JC) to be processed, pretty normal stuff (if you have been to jail). Turned in street clothes and received my “blues,” two pair. Blues are the uniform of convicts in Hamilton County. Sort of like light cotton denim, matching short sleeve and elastic waistband pants. Both my pants almost had the crotches ripped out. I noticed that one other 10-day winner would be joining me; I wondered what his deal was. Hours had passed with monotonous waiting between being ushered through each step of processing. About 20 of us were in a holding tank when my name was called with a list of names to leave. Dave Vetter, the other 10-day guy, was included. I probably had only said five words to him in these first few hours, but already saw some sort of connection. This was probably because we were the only two in the tank that did not have a previous prison story of jailhouse philosophy to spout. (Don’t overestimate “jailhouse philosophies.” These include the pros and cons of relying on your boys or a bitch. Evidentially, your boys are always more trustworthy, but you can get pussy from a bitch.) I was glad that I could not input in any conversation; it made me feel like an outsider. That is good. After my name was called, we left in single file line from the tank; we must be being transferred to the Talbert House now!

No! Have you seen Oz, the TV show in HBO? The new location for boredom was a large room with tables, “couches,” and two levels of surrounding cells. I began to look for Adabece (the huge Jamaican character on Oz whose hat magically sticks to his head), though my group of eight was the only visitors in this new location. Hey, at least there was a TV here. I did not dare touch it, but somebody else turned it on. I sat and wondered when or if we would ever get to the Talbert House. Then I began to think about Kim again, as I did on and off all day. I could not help thinking of her earlier when Dave Vetter’s name was called; I thought “hey, that rhymes with Eddie Vedder!”

What’s all the commotion in the hall, is that lunch? The door swung open and we were called for lunch. What could it be? I snatched my clear plastic bag and snagged an orange drink carton. I make my way back to the TV while inspecting my chow. Mmmm, two finely pressed cheese and bologna sandwiches and the smallest Sunkist orange that I ever laid eyes on. I assumed that it was not “all beef” bologna. I ingested this material and sat back to watch Kim Bassinger in “Bless This Child.”

After about 10 more minutes I heard mine and Dave Vetter’s name called. We left and were taken to a transport vehicle with two other female prisoners. We drove through Eden Park and the black chick would not shut up. She apparently knew a whole hell of a lot of respectable peeps! She got the fat white chick spoutin’ out how to raise a child, and that she “don’t play that violence shit!” Her son is in jail for violence against he and she is apparently in also. GREAT PARENTING! Shit, we are headed north on Woodburn in E. Walnut Hills. We pulled into a drive only about a quarter of a mile south of Madison. Turns out, this is where we are staying.

Papa Birdflag

So how did the visit go? I mean aside from spending time trying to convice him that you and Danimal were not live-in lovers.

Let's hear it for America

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What did you blow up to celebrate?