"Every time there is an awkward silence, a gay baby is
born."
"You're assuming gays are born that way."
Wild Hairs
The Post Orders for our third-shift personnel state that
you must wake up inmates on work lists twice per individual,
even if they own and possess an alarm clock. How much
Mommy do we have to be? An inmate can get out of a
misconduct report for being late for work if you failed to
wake them twice. Nobody wakes me twice. I think of it this
way. They go to work, they earn money, and alarm clocks
are available at the canteen. Even idiots can fi gure this out.
Oh, the coddling!
Inmate Walsh was a dog-handler in the K-9 Pen-Pals
program. His best story was his claim regarding the name
his ancestors brought from the old country with them.
According to Walsh, he should be named Walarashardski,
but his ancestors were victims of the Ellis Island renaming
phenomenon. Walsh was not a serious pain in the ass, but
he defi nitely had one. He had developed an ingrown hair
that was extremely close to his asshole. No, I have not seen
it. I am taking his word for it. In fact, for anybody in the
world who would admit such a thing, your word is good
here. Walsh had been to medical, and they told him that the
treatment, which included soaking, prescriptions, hoping
the body would push it out on its own, or careful removal
could take weeks.
Walsh explains this medical plan with the least bit of
interest, "I'm thinking, go up there every day like Williams
to have my genital warts froze off? No way, not for me." In
the beginning, Walsh was impatient, and asked some other
trusted inmate friends to accomplish the task of removal.
This question was much like the quadruple-amputee bestfriend
with the screaming hard-on. Would you jack him
off? Eventually, Walsh just wanted a mirror, some tweezers,
and some privacy. He thought he could manage the task
alone. He asked Walker about using the staff bathroom,
"Hey Walker. You s'pose I could use the staff bathroom
for a bit?"
"What for?" Walker humored him.
"Member that conversation we were having about me
going to medical, and talking to that nurse?"
"You mean the one that keeps missing the periodic
condescension clinics?"
"Yah, that's the one."
"She reminds me of the kitchen lady who keeps telling
me she is missing a thong. She's so stupid; I'm not sure if
she's hitting on me, or if she just lost a salad utensil."
"Yah, well, I ain't got time to wait for her plan to remove
this hair."
"What, you want to do it yourself?"
"Yah, I think I can pull it off, I mean out, so to speak."
"What if it gets infected?"
"I don't care. Besides, I'll just use the alcohol wipes
from the diabetic bag."
"I don't know."
"Dude, I just saw you catch Garris pulling a splinter out
of his ass in there!"
"That's different."
"How?"
"He's the unit porter, and I caught him after the fact.
You know how I hate doing paperwork."
"How did he get in?"
"It gets left open for the cleaning porters."
"So, if it got left open for the porters, hypothetically
speaking, and I got in to take care of my problem."
"You're just like a politician, aren't you?"
"Them glad-handing sacks of shit?"
"You better not fuck me on this one. I hold a grudge like
a teenage girl. I'll come down your row and start throwing
everybody under the bus."
"Dude, I promise."
"Just don't do it when anybody is looking. And don't
you be taking no dump either."
We did not want to explain to Exstrom how the Mother
of All Bombs got in our staff bathroom.
"Bring the purple-wiggler and the stink-bait."
Squirrel's Eye View
When I was on a date in high school, I used to wrap
my dickhead in toilet paper because it leaked pre-cum so
much. I did not want to walk around with wet underwear
and a wet spot on my pants all the time. I did not expect
my girlfriend to actually reach her hand down my skivvies.
Once when I was laying on her in the front seat of my Dad's
pickup, we were both half-naked, with our pants around our
ankles, just daring the other make contact, I got up the nerve,
and touched the tip of my penis on what I thought was her
vaginal opening. Then, thinking I was really cool, I jammed
it in her real quick. I instantly exploded. Thinking back, I
probably missed and came in her butt-crack.
There was no way in hell that Count could be on to me.
The proof was in the verbal invitation to attend a party at
P.O. Pear's. Pear's was a nightclub in downtown Lincoln.
There was no way I could bring the video camera into the
nightclub. The establishment would not allow it. Had I
been allowed, the fl irting that Count was engaging in would
have been enough to fry his dumb ass. I tailed him out of
the bar, hand in hand with a large breasted brunette. They
jumped in her car and took off. I had no wheels available,
as I was parked a block away, so I thought I missed my
chance. Watching them race down the block and turn into
a parking garage gave me hope. I had a new Casio Exilim
EX-Z 60 digital camera in the cargo pocket of my pants. I
quickly walked on foot to the parking garage and frantically
searched for the car I had seen them leave in. I scoped out
each level of the garage until I heard a moving car slow to
a parking spot. Doors opened and closed. I spied them
making out in the back seat. It did not take long for them
to get naked.
At what point in your life do you stop closing bars and
fucking in cars, especially when you get up before 5:00 a.m.
to go to work? My balls began to take over as I climbed
the stairs to a better vantage point. Stupendously, I did not
remember to disengage the fl ash feature on the camera.
From the parking level above, I had a bird's eye view through
the back driver's side window of Count having his face
mounted like the American Flag on Mount Suribachi. I
could not see the other end, but I imagine he was getting
his dick sucked as well. Those two were wrapped around
each other like two worms in a spring. If Count had opened
his eyes, he would have had the squirrel's eye view of the
predator about to devour him. As it turned out, his eyes
were closed, missing my fl ash, and enjoying the freshlyjuiced
beaver being force-fed into his face. I leaned back
out of view, sat down and checked the viewing window on
the back of the Exilim. Wow, did she have a nice ass! I
guess I could not blame Count for allowing her to mount his
head in that fashion. This one photo was clear proof, and
probably all I needed. I could turn it in separately, or exceed
my technological capabilities by attempting to place it into a
PowerPoint along with the other digital video clips.