Truly Frustrating
Clarence is back! He had to keep it quiet for several months, but is now back in full effect with more tales from the Richmond Juvenile Correctional Education system. Enjoy:
One of most frustrating aspects for those who work in corrections is the fact that inmates have to pee. This is frustrating because that pee has to go somewhere; a function made all the more exasperating because it is one of the few things the state cannot control. That is to say, the inmate always gets to choose where his piss is going to land, and if he opts for anywhere but the toilet, that’s where its gonna go.
Case in point: light bulb changing day in the Max. Some poor bastard of a contractor has to come in and do this, and the fellas housed in the Max never respond well to outsiders. So there he is locked in a 15 by 15 room, a room whose walls contain nothing but thick ass metal doors. And each of those doors contains a window the size a shoe box, windows where this contractor will alternatingly see cocks, middle fingers, and, ever so rarely, the fecal fresco.
He will of course hear nothing but obscenities. He will admit to me later that all these threats being hurled by the locked down inmates will confuse him, because he is after all just there to help them out. For if he did follow their instructions to “bounce, motherfucker!”, well then they’d just be sitting there in the dark. So when the inmate told him to leave or get pissed on, the contractor didn’t think much of it, especially because of the big, thick metal doors separating him from them.
Well don’t you know it wouldn’t be but three minutes later while he was sitting on the floor unwrapping flourescent tubes that he felt his ass getting all wet though his workman’s pants. 16 little streams of piss coming from under 16 metal doors had snaked their way like the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon and soaked his Dickies.
Now that is frustrating.
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August 31st, 2005 at 8:04 pm
We work like a horse.
We eat like a pig.
We like to play chicken.
You can get someone’s goat.
We can be as slippery as a snake.
We get dog tired.
We can be as quiet as a mouse.
We can be as quick as a cat.
Some of us are as strong as an ox.
People try to buffalo others.
Some are as ugly as a toad.
We can be as gentle as a lamb.
Sometimes we are as happy as a lark.
Some of us drink like a fish.
We can be as proud as a peacock.
A few of us are as hairy as a gorilla.
You can get a frog in your throat.
We can be a lone wolf.
But I’m having a whale of a time!
You have a riveting web log
and undoubtedly must have
atypical & quiescent potential
for your intended readership.
May I suggest that you do
everything in your power to
honor your encyclopedic/omniscient
Designer/Architect as well
as your revering audience.
As soon as we acknowledge
this Supreme Designer/Architect,
Who has erected the beauteous
fabric of the universe, our minds
must necessarily be ravished with
wonder at this infinate goodness,
wisdom and power.
Please remember to never
restrict anyone’s opportunities
for ascertaining uninterrupted
existence for their quintessence.
There is a time for everything,
a season for every activity
under heaven. A time to be
born and a time to die. A
time to plant and a time to
harvest. A time to kill and
a time to heal. A time to
tear down and a time to
rebuild. A time to cry and
a time to laugh. A time to
grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones
and a time to gather stones.
A time to embrace and a
time to turn away. A time to
search and a time to lose.
A time to keep and a time to
throw away. A time to tear
and a time to mend. A time
to be quiet and a time to
speak up. A time to love
and a time to hate. A time
for war and a time for peace.
Best wishes for continued ascendancy,
Dr. Howdy
P.S. One thing of which I am sure is
that the common culture of my youth
is gone for good. It was hollowed out
by the rise of ethnic “identity politics,”
then splintered beyond hope of repair
by the emergence of the web-based
technologies that so maximized and
facilitated cultural choice as to make
the broad-based offerings of the old
mass media look bland and unchallenging
by comparison.”
September 16th, 2005 at 7:43 am
Uh, what he said. –Richard
May 18th, 2007 at 4:32 am
Oh, My, Oh my,
Dr. Howdy has changed his song, especially for your blog. His old tune must have worn out.
Regards,
Coral