31 Jan 06
Fish Survival Guide
A fish is a new prisoner, usually someone unschooled in prison etiquette. If you know someone who is heading to prison for the first time, you may want to send them this guide. It could save that person’s life. This survival guide was compiled with the help of Xena who is aware of dozens of people who have been smashed, stabbed or killed for violating these guidelines.
1. Stay out of debt – especially drug debts. If you use drugs, know how to pay for them. More people die from being unable to pay drug debts than for any other reason.
2. Know who the gang members are in your race, and know what their rules are. There are two sets of rules: Department of Corrections' rules and the political rules enforced by the gangs – play them in conjunction. For example, befriending someone from another race may get you smashed. Click here to see a video of an Aryan Brother slaying a prisoner who crossed the gangs.
3. Don’t flash money or property around. Most inmates have little or none, and will take yours if they can. If you have money, help your indigent friends, especially with hygiene products. If you have no cash, get a job or try private enterprise (drawing and tattooing are common).
4. Do not be perceived as being friendly with prison guards, or you may be suspected of snitching, which can get you killed. If you know a guard prior to coming to prison, keep it secret.
5. Do not talk about people unless they are present. Do not whine or complain – especially around lifers – or you may get smashed. Don’t lie, and always keep any promises you make. If you’re a short-timer don’t talk about it. Don’t ask people how much time they are serving, or for why. Wait until you get to know them and they are comfortable around you, if you want to ask these questions.
6. Don’t act like a big shot unless you can fight. Bear in mind that if someone challenges you, and you don’t fight, you may be perceived as weak and be taken advantage of by others.
7. Don’t show weakness or let your emotional barrier down. Especially youngsters, who can easily become extortion and rape fodder for the hardcore. Never cry.
8. If you are gay, stay in the closet unless you are prepared to fight people who will want to stab or rape you. If you are openly gay, find a man with power who can protect you.
9. Don’t become obese or you’ll be perceived as unhealthy and weak, to be preyed upon. In prison, more people work out than in any other society.
10. Learn prison slang. Beware of becoming a "torpedo" – usually a youngster manipulated to smash (beat up) someone so that the manipulator doesn’t get his hands dirty. Beware of someone doing an "okey-doke" on you – for example, an inmate lying to you about being called a punk, so that you will fight his enemy. Beware of becoming a "trick-bag" – being manipulated into saying something offensive to another, not realising that you were being insulting.
11. Stay hygienically clean. Being dirty is considered disrespectful, especially to your own race.
12. If you practice a minority religion, you may want to keep it secret rather than risk being smashed.
13. Don’t cut your life short by contracting a deadly disease from using dirty tattoo instruments or syringes. If you have to inject drugs, bleach the works first.
Click here for my jail survival tips.
Click here to watch my jail survival tips video.
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Sunday, February 26, 2006
Saturday, February 25, 2006
29 Jan 06
A Shane Day
“What did you do today?” I asked Shane.
“Hmmm, let me think," Shane said. “I woke up fifteen minutes before breakfast, and had a smoke and a cup of coffee before chow. I graced you and Weird Al with my presence at breakfast, and taunted Al about his Jewish diet – something I’ve recently become obsessed with doing.
I spent the morning doing what I do best: loitering in front of my cell, or hanging out in my cell reading or doing legal work. Now that your good ol’ mum and dad have gone, I no longer have to keep an eye out for would-be looters intent on ransacking your cell.”
“And a good looter preventer you were!”
“Also, this morning, I plotted my next tactics against ValueOptions. I’ve been slightly manic the past couple of days, but I’ve been much worse. It’ll pass – as always.
I wrote a letter twice and threw it away. I couldn’t get the right words out. I’ve been trying to write it for a few weeks now. Maybe tomorrow.
At dinner, I dined with you and Al, and pointed out the deficiencies of Al’s Jewish diet – strictly for Al’s benefit of course.
Then I paid you an evening visit for some conversation – but the cell doesn’t look the same without all of your Christmas cards. I love shiny things! I must comment though on your visitor’s area: the dirty sheet your celly left on your sofa – that’s gotta go. What would your mum say?”
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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
A Shane Day
“What did you do today?” I asked Shane.
“Hmmm, let me think," Shane said. “I woke up fifteen minutes before breakfast, and had a smoke and a cup of coffee before chow. I graced you and Weird Al with my presence at breakfast, and taunted Al about his Jewish diet – something I’ve recently become obsessed with doing.
I spent the morning doing what I do best: loitering in front of my cell, or hanging out in my cell reading or doing legal work. Now that your good ol’ mum and dad have gone, I no longer have to keep an eye out for would-be looters intent on ransacking your cell.”
“And a good looter preventer you were!”
“Also, this morning, I plotted my next tactics against ValueOptions. I’ve been slightly manic the past couple of days, but I’ve been much worse. It’ll pass – as always.
I wrote a letter twice and threw it away. I couldn’t get the right words out. I’ve been trying to write it for a few weeks now. Maybe tomorrow.
At dinner, I dined with you and Al, and pointed out the deficiencies of Al’s Jewish diet – strictly for Al’s benefit of course.
Then I paid you an evening visit for some conversation – but the cell doesn’t look the same without all of your Christmas cards. I love shiny things! I must comment though on your visitor’s area: the dirty sheet your celly left on your sofa – that’s gotta go. What would your mum say?”
Email comments to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below
Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
Sunday, February 19, 2006
26 Jan 06
The Tarantula Police
“What’s that?” asked a female guard upon seeing Xena playing with Dawg the tarantula.
“A spider,” Xena said.
“Well lemme see it. You know I’m gonna hafta take that.”
“Oh well!” Xena said.
An hour later the guard returned with a sergeant, and a massive guard carrying a white bucket to put Dawg in.
“I heard you’ve got a pet in here,” the sergeant said.
“Yeah,” Xena said in a sad voice.
“Let's see it then,” the sergeant said.
Xena opened his hand and revealed Dawg.
Upon seeing the tarantula, the guards backed away a few steps.
The big guard looked at the sergeant and said,“Sarge, do you wanna put the spider in the bucket?”
The sergeant shook his head.
Xena kissed Dawg’s hairy body, and said, “Bye-bye, little Dawggy. I love you! I’ll see you again in our next lives, I promise.” Xena stepped forward to put Dawg in the bucket, but the guards backed away again. Xena tried once more. The guard held the bucket out at arm's length and Xena put Dawg in it. “Will you set my spider free someplace like the farm area, so he’ll have a chance to survive?”
“I don’t think we have the time to go to the farm,” the sergeant said. “It’ll be easier for us to go to the control room and flush it down the toilet.”
The guards laughed and left.
Later on I asked Xena, “How do you feel now that Dawg's gone?”
“Like shit. I’m very upset – like a woman with PMS.”
Email comments to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below
Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
The Tarantula Police
“What’s that?” asked a female guard upon seeing Xena playing with Dawg the tarantula.
“A spider,” Xena said.
“Well lemme see it. You know I’m gonna hafta take that.”
“Oh well!” Xena said.
An hour later the guard returned with a sergeant, and a massive guard carrying a white bucket to put Dawg in.
“I heard you’ve got a pet in here,” the sergeant said.
“Yeah,” Xena said in a sad voice.
“Let's see it then,” the sergeant said.
Xena opened his hand and revealed Dawg.
Upon seeing the tarantula, the guards backed away a few steps.
The big guard looked at the sergeant and said,“Sarge, do you wanna put the spider in the bucket?”
The sergeant shook his head.
Xena kissed Dawg’s hairy body, and said, “Bye-bye, little Dawggy. I love you! I’ll see you again in our next lives, I promise.” Xena stepped forward to put Dawg in the bucket, but the guards backed away again. Xena tried once more. The guard held the bucket out at arm's length and Xena put Dawg in it. “Will you set my spider free someplace like the farm area, so he’ll have a chance to survive?”
“I don’t think we have the time to go to the farm,” the sergeant said. “It’ll be easier for us to go to the control room and flush it down the toilet.”
The guards laughed and left.
Later on I asked Xena, “How do you feel now that Dawg's gone?”
“Like shit. I’m very upset – like a woman with PMS.”
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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
24 Jan 06
"How
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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
"How
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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
22 Jan o6
Short-Term Prison Sentences
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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
Short-Term Prison Sentences
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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
20 January 06
A Two Tonys Day
“How’s your day going?” I asked Two Tonys.
“I’m havin’ a wonderful day.” Two Tonys said. “It started when I got up this mornin’, and cleaned the house, and had a hot coffee. I went to the chow hall and they had my favourite fuckin’ breakfast: French Toast, grilled potatoes, and hot cereal. I thought I was in the fuckin’ International House of Pancakes for a minute. I was lookin’ for a waitress to order some cheese blintzes.
And what’s nice about the whole fuckin’ thing? - there ain’t no bill. The taxpayers of fuckin’ America are payin’ for my motherfuckin’ keep.
After chow, I went out to rec, walked a bit, played some baseball, and ate some ice cream.
The biggest decision I gotta make today is whether to go to fuckin’ lunch or not. There was a time in my life when I had to make fuckin’ decisions: do I wanna pay this guy or do I wanna pay that guy? – do I wanna whack this guy or do I wanna whack that guy?
I’m havin’ a much better day than some of those rich motherfuckers I knew livin’ on Camelback Mountain when I was in the fuckin’ world. They were worried about makin’ their mortgage payments, or their wives bangin’ the pool cleaner or the landscaper with the leaf-blower on his back – or worried about their high-school daughters getting lungs full of crack from some rapper with dreadlocks and gold teeth, or their teenage boys turnin’ out to be delinquents.
Life is good. A guy my age can actually take nice naps in the afternoon. I’ve got it made. This life ain’t nothin’ but a fuckin’donut, and it keeps getting’ bigger!”
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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
A Two Tonys Day
“How’s your day going?” I asked Two Tonys.
“I’m havin’ a wonderful day.” Two Tonys said. “It started when I got up this mornin’, and cleaned the house, and had a hot coffee. I went to the chow hall and they had my favourite fuckin’ breakfast: French Toast, grilled potatoes, and hot cereal. I thought I was in the fuckin’ International House of Pancakes for a minute. I was lookin’ for a waitress to order some cheese blintzes.
And what’s nice about the whole fuckin’ thing? - there ain’t no bill. The taxpayers of fuckin’ America are payin’ for my motherfuckin’ keep.
After chow, I went out to rec, walked a bit, played some baseball, and ate some ice cream.
The biggest decision I gotta make today is whether to go to fuckin’ lunch or not. There was a time in my life when I had to make fuckin’ decisions: do I wanna pay this guy or do I wanna pay that guy? – do I wanna whack this guy or do I wanna whack that guy?
I’m havin’ a much better day than some of those rich motherfuckers I knew livin’ on Camelback Mountain when I was in the fuckin’ world. They were worried about makin’ their mortgage payments, or their wives bangin’ the pool cleaner or the landscaper with the leaf-blower on his back – or worried about their high-school daughters getting lungs full of crack from some rapper with dreadlocks and gold teeth, or their teenage boys turnin’ out to be delinquents.
Life is good. A guy my age can actually take nice naps in the afternoon. I’ve got it made. This life ain’t nothin’ but a fuckin’donut, and it keeps getting’ bigger!”
Email comments to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below
Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
Sunday, February 12, 2006
18 Jan 06
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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
Email comments to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below
Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
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