04 Nov 04

Frankie Arrives

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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03 Nov 04

Maniac Mack

One of the letters I received today was from Maniac Mack. Maniac Mack is housed at the Madison Street jail in a different area than Frankie and Mark. I met Maniac Mack in 2004 when we were both housed in a pod that had no running water for several days causing the toilets to become stacked up, and inmates were depositing their business in plastic bags (See blog entry 19/02 Deep Shit.) When the water was turned back on, I had to dig through the pile in the toilet with my bare hands to prevent things from overflowing onto our cell floor.
Maniac Mack wrote:
“Tonite in an attempt to oppress our already downtrodden spirits, some administrative blockhead decided we are being 'mollycoddled' and also that living conditions are far too ‘opulent and overly luxurious!' Personally I feel that Sheriff Joe A.K.A. ‘Humpty Dumpty,’ feeling particularly omnipotent and invincible since his election victory in the primaries decided to visit a new and fantastic torture on us…. 3 men to a cell…. A direct violation of the inmate housing federal guidelines set forth in Hart v M.C.S.O. case law” [sic]

I am unsure of this rumour so I have written to Frankie and Mark asking for confirmation.

The latest jail rumour discussed by Diego and Scooby was that the new multi-million-dollar jail is sinking upon its foundations. If anyone can back up these rumours with some facts I would love to hear more.

Read what Maniac Mack has to say in the comments box below:

1 Nov 04

Manny's Swan Song

Some of my neighbours were rolled up in the last week. Barbarian was moved to a pod in SMU where he will probably serve the remainder of his time. I suspect he has been housed with fellow STG (Security Threat Group) inmates. The STG process was initiated to extract the heads of prison gangs from regular yards, and to house them at SMU in the hope that the power of gangs such as the Aryan Brotherhood, Mexican Mafia, and Mau Maus would be reduced.

Manny was moved on a night the guards were searching for a pair of missing nail clippers in our pod. They were shining their torches all over the place, when Manny yelled,
“I’m sure gonna enjoy clipping my finger nails on that bus ride from Florence!”
“Who said that?” a sergeant yelled in a voice full of fury.
“I fuckin’ did,” Manny said, perhaps because he knew his personal property was en route to the transportation bus and hence out of harms way of the guards.
The guards stormed upstairs, and clustered in front of Manny’s cell.
“I wuz just clowning,” Manny said in a tone that suggested he found something funny about the whole situation.
There was silence. The sergeant’s jaw dropped and if he could have breathed fire he would have torched Manny alive.
The guards stripped out Manny and Scooby. Manny was dragged down the stairs and locked in the shower cell. Scooby’s property was once again confiscated due to Manny’s mouth. Manny was rolled up a few hours later and he departed our pod with a satisfied grin on his face. He is now serving the remaining four months of his domestic-violence sentence at a different prison.

Odds & Ends

Arizona’s death-row inmates are housed at SMU2. The guards have recently begun telling me that an inmate who looks like me and also has my surname is awaiting execution on death row. Another guard talked about the "shitslingers" and "darters" who are housed in a neighbouring pod in cells protected by Plexiglas screens. The shitslingers are inmates renowned for hurling their feces at prison staff and other inmates. The darters, however, are more dangerous than the shitslingers. Darters like to make blowpipes and shoot excrement-coated darts at their victims. If a dart pierces human skin and faecal matter gets into the target’s bloodstream there can be serious health consequences.

American news broadcasts are pitiful. Every night this week the scarcity of flu shots has been a major headline. Several minutes are devoted to this subject and then viewers are advised to call a toll free number to get their hands on supposedly-unavailable-but-somehow-remaining flu shots. This is a blantant commercial for the pharmaceutical-industrial complex who make billions of dollars each year selling doses to people with healthy immune systems who do not need the shots in the first place. (This comment does not apply to sick infants and elderly people who may benefit from flu shots.)

Where is the real news? Is the average American more interested in Paris Hiltons's goings on than world events that could affect all of our lives? I no longer watch the news here..

I received a Wake Up Newsletter this week. They are running extracts from my blog. This resource provides a wealth of information for prisoners. Family members of prisoners can access their site at http://www.azceg.org/ . The Arizona Coalition for Effective Government is a non-profit organisation. I have extracted two quotes from the current issue that I will end this entry with.

'America is the land of second chances'
US Attorney General John Ashcroft

'...our resources are misspent, our punishments too severe, our sentences too long.'
US Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy

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28 Oct 04

Birthday Bonanza!

Thank you for the birthday cards! I appreciate your kindness. The cards range from picturesque to rather amusing. The Asian ones are particularly striking. I've been happy all week, especially during mail delivery. I’ve been heckled nightly by the mail officer due to all the mail he’s having to deliver.

Penguin also received some birthday cards he had been expecting - albeit belatedly - so he's cheered up a tad in the last week. Penguin’s favourite TV show is Fear Factor. He watches it twice a day. He is also fond of the nature channel and today he convinced me to take a break from my studies to join him watching a BBC programme about dangerous ants. Penguin was so delighted with the footage of the ants that he spent the rest of the evening blurting out newly acquired ant facts to our unreceptive neighbours: “Did you know that the Australian bulldog ant can kill a human being within four minutes?” Our neighbours, who don't have a TV, were peeved at him for watching the ants instead of obtaining them the WWF wrestling results. I’m glad we watched the ants.

I’ve been told that I will soon be at a medium-security prison. I expect to be moved in November, probably to Buckeye prison. It was at Buckeye that American’s longest prison hostage situation recently occurred. My mail will be forwarded from Florence to wherever I end up at.

After being locked down for so long it will be exhilarating to exit my cell and to breathe some fresh air. The weather in Arizona is utopian at this time of the year. I’ll be allowed three hours of outdoor recreation each day. Everything in nature that I used to take for granted now appears in a new light.

Cheers for all the cards and good wishes!

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27 Oct 04

Kryptonitis

Last night the Chicanos were discussing the death of Christopher Reeve, when suddenly their conversation was interrupted by one of the old-timers downstairs breaking wind.

Mad Dog, a new and disruptive addition to the run, began the conversation with, “I didn’t know that Christopher Reeve wuz dead, ese.”
“Yeah, ese, from bedsores,” Scooby said.
“Nah, he didn’t die from bed sores, homey. You wanna know how he died?” Manny said.
“Yeah. How’d he die, ese?"
“From Kryptonitis!” Manny said.
“You ain’t right! Fuck you, ese!” Mad Dog said.
“Take no notice of my celly," Scooby said in a helpful tone. “Reeve died from a cardiac arrest brought on by an infection from the bedsores."
“Bed sores?" Mad Dog asked.
“She killed him. Know what I mean? She knew what she was doin’. Know what I mean?"
“You're right, ese,” Scooby said. “She studied up on dat shit. She knew what wuz good for him and what wuzn't good for him.”
“That’s gonna be a high-profile case,” Diego said.
“How’d da bitch kill him from bedsores, ese?” Mad Dog said.
“She wuzn't cleanin' him right, ese,” Scooby said.
“Dat fool had a lot of money, ese, You know dat dose Hollywood tramps are all about the cheddar [money], ese,” Diego said.
“Da bitch did it,” Manny said.
“He wuz just a head. His body had shrunk and dey didn’t clean his body, right? Know what I mean? Dem bed sores iz nothin’ nice. Know what I mean?"
“Da bitch wuz sick o’ takin’ care o’ him, ese,” Manny said.
“Fuckin killa! She did it, ese,” Mad Dog said.
A series of loud farts halted the conversation.
“God damn!” Manny yelled.
“I love you,” Scooby whispered.
“Speak to me,” Mad Dog said in a feminine tone.
“Damn! Know what I mean?"
“Fuck his tight ass,” Diego said.

26 Oct 04

Mark Update

Today I received a letter from Mark, my last cellmate at the Madison Street jail. He was recently rolled up, but he managed to land in the same pod as Frankie. Mark wrote “The roach dreams are back 'cause this place has a lot of cracks with nothing sealed.”

There's nothing worse than being moved from a roach-proofed cell to a cell where gaping cracks abound. At the whimsy of the jail, months of hard work sealing the cracks with toothpaste can be rendered redundant.

Sorry to add to your woes, Mark, but I recently read that the American cockroach carries 22 species of pathogenic human bacteria, virus, fungi and protozoa’s, as well as five species of helminthic worms.

Mark is be sentenced soon. He hopes that everyone will say a prayer for him, so that he receives probation. His plight will be in my thoughts after tonight’s meditation session. Mark’s neighbour Sal wasn’t so lucky with the legal vampires. His attorney promised him he'd only get seven years if he signed a plea bargain. He signed and got 23 years.

Thank you for all of the birthday cards!

25 Oct 04

Viva Mexico!

Frankie’s strategy worked. By forcing his case to trial Frankie called the prosecutor's bluff. He had refused to sign plea bargains, against his attorney’s advice, and just before the trial, the prosecutor dropped all of his more serious charges and offered him a better plea bargain. The prosecutor had never expected Frankie to take things so far. Frankie described her face as, "looking like she ate a sour lemon." He has pleaded guilty to a Class 3 felony: conspiracy to commit aggravated assault. He should be arriving at SMU2 this winter.

There was a jailhouse shuffle and Frankie was rolled up to a new pod and separated from the object of his lust: Cupcake. Frankie’s new cellmate had refused to tell the police his name, so on his ID his name is printed as John Doe. Whether John Doe has succumbed to Frankie’s charms, is, as yet, a mystery.

Frankie and his neighbours were disturbed by the arrival of a paisano who yelled, "Viva Mexico!" at all hours of the day and night. During the paisano's first hour out he spat on guards and kicked cell doors whilst yelling, "Viva Mexico!" After two days of this he was restrained, cuffed and permanently removed from Frankie’s pod. Frankie wrote that he left yelling "Viva Mexico!"

Due to all of your questions about Frankie, I have written to him asking if he has a pic that he wouldn’t mind being posted to the blog. My fingers are crossed.