If it ain’t yours, leave it alone. Jealousy is a motherfucker no matter where you’re at.
Back in the mid 90’s there was this punk running around Walla Walla. He went by the name Tiffany.
Tiffany was in a relationship with Shadow. Tiffany is white, Shadow is Mexican. For months the two lived together. Until one day administration broke up the two.
Tiffany got moved into a different cell. Inside his new cell lived Terry. Terry has been in prison for years and has several more to go.
It wasn’t long before Terry was butt-fucking Tiffany and making him suck his dick. Tiffany told Shadow. Shadow was pissed.
Shadow approached Terry out in the yard and said, “Hey man, Tiffany is my bitch. Leave her alone.”
Terry laughed and said, “Her? That punk has a dick bigger than yours.”
Shadow wasn’t laughing. “Just stay away from her, alright?”
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Gambling is huge in prison. Convicts will bet on anything, such as: professional sports, prison sports, or how long it’ll take before a sex offender gets his ass beat. The most common way to get in debt is playing cards. Specifically: Poker, Spades, or Pinochle. And the most dangerous type of debt is a drug debt.
Scott is serving 16 years for manufacturing meth. While in prison, he enjoys shooting meth and heroin. He pays for the drugs with the $100 a month he gets from his grandma. Unfortunately, $100 only keeps him high for 2 days. But Scott has a plan. He’ll extend his line of credit and rack up debts.
Before he knows it, he owes $800, and the month is only half over. “Aw what the hell” he thinks, “My sister would send me $100 if I ask.” So Scott goes and gets more drugs.
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Convicts want to control as much as they can. Back in the day (prior to 2004), everyone sat in the same seat at the chow hall. New guys were constantly getting ran off until they found a seat that could be theirs day in & day out. This caused so much drama, that prison officials now enforce assigned seating.
Back in 1992, at the Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla, there was a new guy that went by the nickname “Cat Piss.”
Seriously! He introduced himself as “Cat Piss.” Why? Because he cooked so much meth, and he used so much meth, that he literally smelled like cat piss. It continued to ooze from his pores and scalp, even months after he got locked up.
His first day at the Washington State Penitentiary, Cat Piss sat in the wrong seat. Cat Piss is about 6’4” and 200 lbs.
Matt approached him and said, “This seat is taken. Go ahead and finish your meal, but don’t sit here again.”
Cat Piss just looks at Matt, then continues to eat. Matt dumps his tray and leaves without ever sitting down.
Matt is about 6’ and 190 lbs. He is in prison for robbing and stabbing to death a pill dealer. He got 60 years. When he was 27 years old.
The next day Matt comes to the chow hall to find Cat Piss in his seat again.
Matt says, “Hey man, I was nice enough to let you finish your meal yesterday. But today, you need to get the f*ck outta my seat.”
Cat Piss stands up and towers over Matt.
Matt backs up and re-thinks the situation. Then he says, “Look man, just find another seat. I won’t tell you again.”
Matt dumps his tray and leaves again without eating.
A few hours go by, and its chow time again. And sure enough, Cat Piss is sitting in Matt’s seat.
Matt doesn’t say a word. He walks up behind Cat Piss and pulls out a razor sharp 3 inch plexiglass shank. Before Cat Piss can react, Matt has stabbed him in the side three times. Then four-five-six-seven…
Matt has Cat Piss on the ground as he grips his hair with his left hand and drives the shank in & out of Cat Piss’s mid-section.
By the time the guards break it up, Cat Piss has been stabbed over 40 times. And that’s how Matt got the nickname “Slash.”
Moral of the Story: Don’t come to prison and disrupt the flow of things. Find an empty seat, and get in where you fit in.
Prison has its own language. The word “punk” doesn’t seem all that bad. But call someone a “punk” in prison and you could be fighting in the blink of an eye. In prison, a punk is a prison b*tch.
Jason is serving 12 years for breaking into homes and selling cocaine. He’s 5’10” and 150 lbs. He has a sharp tongue, he’s witty, and he’s a smart ass.
One day Jason was playing handball out in the yard at Airway Heights Correction Center (AHCC). He was winning just about every game.
As he hit a kill shot, he’d yell, “BOOM! Take that motherf*cker!”
He’d jaw back and forth with the other competitors. Then, as he would win, he’d say, “Get the *f* off the court! NEXT!!!”
Well the guy who is next just so happened to be a new guy named Zac. Zac is new to AHCC, not to prison.
As the game starts. Jason takes a quick lead and starts talking sh*t, “Get the *f* off my court, amateur night is on Broadway.”
Zac responds, “Shut up and serve the ball.”
Jason says, “Tell your b*tch to shut up.”
Zac says, “Serve the ball!”
Jason serves a hard shot down the line. It’s an ace. He wins 7-0, and yells, “Get off my court, boy!”
Zac says, “You’re a disrespectful cocksucker.”
Jason says, “*F* you punk!”
That’s all it took. Zac ran up to Jason, swinging hay makers. Jason managed to avoid most of them. But then Zac landed a solid punch on Jason’s chin.
He fell to the ground where Zac proceeded to kick him. Zac was like a wild animal as he mauled Jason all over the handball court. Needless to say, Jason got his ass kicked!
A lot of sh*t talking can be tolerated between various people. But once someone drops the word “punk” or “b*tch”…it’s on!
Moral of the story: Be a nice person and have respect for others. Or at least don’t call someone a punk!
Some people just wake up in a bad mood. Especially in prison. So if your celly is a violent felon, you better beware of the things that’ll set him off.
As Tommy wakes up to a new day, he sits up in his bunk. He stretch’s out his arms and yawns. The yawn turns into a moan. The moan turns into a growl.
Then all of a sudden Tommy hears, “Jesus f*cking Christ! Are you serious!? Every god damn morning I have to wake up to that bullsh*t?”
That was Tommy’s celly. His name is Jerry. I kid you not. Tom & Jerry are cellies.
Tom is a sawed off heavy weight who stands 5’7” and weighs 260 lbs. He’s stocky muscle with a decent layer of fat, but by no means is he fat. Jerry stands about 6’1” and weighs 165 lbs. And he has a smart ass mouth.
So Tommy jumps down from his bunk and with one continuous motion he rips Jerry outta his bunk. As Jerry hits the floor, Tommy pins him against the wall then drops both knees on his chest and stomach. The impact knocks the wind outta Jerry.
Tommy presses his face against Jerry’s face and asks, “Would you rather I wake you up to this instead?”
Jerry was still trying to catch his breath as he lay flat on his back. Tommy stood up and placed his foot on Jerry’s neck.
Then Tommy said, “Listen you stupid mother f*cker, I know you’re in prison for rape. You like to victimize women, huh? And now you’re starting to cuss at me!? I don’t think so!”
Jerry grips Tommy’s foot with both hands to relieve some of the pressure. He struggles a bit, then grunts out the words, “Let me up!”
Tommy presses hard on his neck…”Shut up you b*tch!”
It’s still early. Tommy is in his boxers and he has to piss like a race horse. So he does…all over Jerry’s face. He screams as the hot piss burns his eyes.
“Shut the f*ck up you rapist, before I stomp your face in.”
Jerry is weak and in a haze due to a lack of blood flow to his brain. He’s on the verge of passing out. That’s when Tommy reaches over onto Tommy’s bunk and pulls his blankets onto the piss soaked floor.
Tommy barks, “Clean yourself up…and wipe up the floor too…boy!”
Jerry slowly rises to his feet as he wipes the floor. The second Tommy turns his back, Jerry rushes him. Jerry side steps him as he smashes his elbow onto Jerry’s face. He falls to the ground, knocked out cold.
The impact cracks open his head. Blood flows and mixes with the piss. Tommy gets nauseous and passes out. As he falls to the floor, his face lands in the area of Jerry’s cock and balls.
Just then a guard walks by. It looks bad. It is bad.
They both go to the hole.
Two days later Tommy gets an infraction. It says he knocked out Jerry with sexual intent. Tommy is found guilty of this bogus infraction. He spends 16 months in the hole.
After that 16 months, Tommy is released to general population. They put him in a cell with a homosexual named Frank.
The very first thing Frank says to Tommy is, “You don’t have to knock me out to suck this.”
Then Frank unzips his pants. Tommy snaps and kicks Frank square in the nuts so hard that they both rupture! Frank is rushed to the ER.
Tommy goes back to the hole. This time for 32 months!
Moral of the story: Just be kind to people. The law of attraction is one that will not error.
So you wanna break wind while everyone is enjoying a home cooked meal, huh? Alright you son-of-a-b*tch, I’ll see you in the yard!
Shane is a 28 year old skinhead from Idaho. He was in Washington State picking up a garbage bag full of hallucinogenic mushrooms (aka: shrooms). Before he could cross back into Idaho, he got pulled over by a state trooper. Book em Dano! He ended up getting 6 years.
Shane is one nasty dude. He loves ripping nasty ass farts. He even eats match heads because he says the sulfer makes his farts smell even worse. At the Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla, he lives in a 4-man cell. The fart games are constant in that cell.
As one guy sleeps, another guy will pull down his pants and place his naked ass inches from his sleeping celly’s face. Then he’ll blow his hair back with a hot stinky gust of ass air. The victim of this practical joke wakes up to the other 3 laughing, and nose full of microscopic sh*t particles. Later he returns the favor by farting in his hand and rubbing it in his celly’s face.
It’s an ongoing cycle that never ends. So naturally, Shane continues his rude antics outside of his cell too. That includes the chow hall. A place where everyone gathers to eat. And not everyone is fond of the “fart game.” Especially Danner.
Danner is an old school convict who’s been in & out of prison since the early 80’s. He’s hardly amused and only has one smile that very few people have ever seen.
So when Shane let one rip in the chow hall, Danner reacted. “Come on you nasty mother f*cker, show some god damn respect and clinch your ass cheeks.”
Tension instantly filled the sh*t scented air. Danner wasn’t messing around, and everyone knew it.
Shane attempted to save face, “Oh come on Danner, lighten up. It was only a joke.”
Danner replied with more agitation in his voice, “It wasn’t a f*cking joke! Jokes are funny. You farting in the chow hall is not funny. Don’t do it again!”
Shane’s pride was wounded by Danner’s choice words. So rather than talk sh*t back with his mouth, Shane talked more sh*t with his ass. He lifted one butt cheek off the seat and pushed as hard as he could. His ass ripped the loudest, longest fart anyone has ever heard in the chow hall.
Several guys started laughing. Now Danner’s pride was wounded. Danner stood up and grabbed his tray. He said, “Alright you son-of-a-b*tch. I’ll see you in the yard!”
Sure enough, that night Danner beat the crap outta Shane. It wasn’t even a close fight. Danner knocked him out with one punch, then proceeded to kick Shane in the head and face. He stopped only after a warning shot was fired from the gun tower.
Moral of the story: Don’t fart in the chow hall. And if you do, say your sorry.
#1) SNITCH ON SOMEONE
Snitches get stitches…bitches!
If you tell, prison is hell.
#2) SIT IN THE WRONG SEAT
Convicts want to control as much as they can. In the chow hall everyone sits in the same seat every day. If you’re new, this could be a problem. Sit in the wrong seat and that could be reason enough to get your ass kicked.
(After decades of seat related issues, DOC finally implemented assigned seating. DOC is much safer because of it. Thank you DOC.)
#3) DON’T PAY YOUR DEBTS
Gambling is huge in prison. So are drug debts. If you wanna shoot heroin, snort meth, pop pills, and smoke a joint before you bet on professional sports, dominoes, cards, and dice, well then you better have a fat bank roll. Pay up or get beat down.
#4) LOOK AT SOMEONE’S VISITOR
Keep your eyes on your own. If you get caught looking at someone’s visitor, whether it’s their mom, sister, grandma, whoever, and you could end up looking at someone’s boots up side your face back at the cell block.
#5) CO-SIGN A PIECE OF SH*T
If you say he’s an alright dude and he turns out to be a rat or a sex offender, guess who gets beat up along the way? YOU!
All that dead skin, hair, and lint has to land somewhere. And it’s usually in front of someone’s cell. Mad Dog Killer ain’t going for it. Mop that sh*t up, or get mopped up. The choice is yours!
Blanket exchange is every 30 days.
Sheet exchange is every 7 days.
Some guys feel the need to shake out their blankets after they put clean sheets on their mattress. Such is the case with an old convict named Clay. Every week he dangles his blankets from the top tier and gives them a good shake.
All that dead skin, hair, lint, cookie and chip crumbs land down below in front of occupied cells. Most guys simply don’t care. Others might not realize its being done. But it’s only a matter of time before someone makes an issue of it.
Today, that someone is Vinny.
Vinny is also an old convict…mad at the world…and always involved in some sort of drama.
As he’s laying on his bunk, something catches his eye. He sits up and leans for a better view. Its two white cotton blankets dancing in front of his cell. They’re discharging all kinds of nasty….directly on Vinny’s porch.
Vinny comes storming out of his cell. He grabs the two white blankets and rips them out of Clay’s hands. The blankets hit the floor. Vinny uses them as a dust mop and swiftly runs them over all the fallen nastiness. Then he kicks the blankets out into the dayroom.
Meanwhile, Clay is charging down the stairs, heading straight for Vinny.
This isn’t the first time these two have had words over blanket shaking. But it’ll be the last.
Clay gets up in Vinny’s face and says, “Listen here you lint licking son-of-a-BEEP….”
As soon as that “B” word came out of his mouth, Vinny kneed Clay in the nuts! HARD!!!
As Clay doubled over in pain, Vinny served him another knee to the face. Clay fell to the floor in the fetal position. That’s when Vinny started kicking him in the face and head. “Who’s the “B” now?” Vinny said with every kick, “I warned you about shaking them blankets out in front of my house….I fricken warned you!”
Vinny concluded the beat down by kicking the blankets on Clay. Then he calmly walked back to his cell, went in, closed the door, and layed down.
Within minutes a guard observed one inmate sleeping on the dayroom floor. It didn’t take long before the entire dayroom was locked down. Clay remained on the floor until medical carried him away.
Prison officials reviewed the cameras. Then five of them went to Vinny’s cell, cuffed him up, and took him to the hole.
Clay has probably been shaking out his blankets for a long time. And for a long time he has probably been getting away with it without incident. There is an actual rule prohibiting the shaking of blankets from the top tier. This story goes to show that if you continue to do wrong, it’s only a matter of time before it catches up with you somehow, some way.
Moral: Always do the right thing and life will run so much smoother.
Stafford Creek Correction Center (SCCC) has the lowest violence rate out of all major facilities in Washington State. I respect that and I make a significant effort to contribute.
The administration of SCCC has put together a day of camaraderie and fun.
The purpose: To promote the message of NO VIOLENCE, NO DRUGS, and POSITIVE CHOICES!!!
On Sept. 17, 2014, I attended this event. And what an event it was. Over 300 inmates participated! It took place out in the prison yard.
At 9:00AM there was the introduction. Dawn Taylor, Correctional Specialist and Dan VanOgle, Associate Superintendent, got on the microphone. They went over a few rules and expectations. They also expressed gratitude towards the positive choices of those who are committed to change. I felt a connection. It further inspired me.
Then a few inmates gave some powerful testimonies regarding their personal journeys. Again, I was touched. I thought to myself…maybe one day I’ll get up there and speak.
After the intro, the games began. Each game had a theme:
Soccer – KICKING OUT NEGATIVE CHOICES FOR BETTER GOALS
Flag Football – THROWING AWAY BAD HABITS & SCORING FOR NON VIOLENCE
Frisbee Golf – FLYING ABOVE VIOLENCE
Long Distance Run – STRIDING FOR BETTER CHOICES & A LONG FUTURE
Tug of War – PULLING TO KEEP EACH OTHER CLEAN & SOBER
Horse Shoes – PUTTING VIOLENCE THROUGH THE RINGER
Relay Race – RUNNING STRONG TO PASS THE POSITIVE MESSAGE
Obstacle Course – OBSTACLE COURSE OF LIFE CHANGES
3-Point Shot B-ball – SHOOTING FOR DRUG FREE & VIOLENCE FREE COMMUNITIES
Basketball – CROSSING OVER DRUG ADDICTION & VIOLENCE
Pretty neat, huh?
All teams were pre-determined. It wasn’t about who wins or loses. It was about working together. Some teammates were weaker than others. It was everyone’s objective to work together and encourage one another to be the best they can be. It was about BREAKING BARRIERS and respecting different cultures, races, ages, affiliations, and people in general.
In my eyes, this event was a huge success. I left feeling inspired and motivated. It recharged my enthusiasm to make positive choices and to be the best I can be.
A special “thank you” to Dawn Taylor & Dan VanOgle. And to The Redemption Project and all their sponsors.
I look forward to future events.
To my readers: questions or comments? Please, feel free. I will respond. Thank you.
It’s 8 AM on a rainy Tuesday morning.
I just cleaned my cell. Now I’m rinsing out my Seattle Seahawks trash can. It’s Seattle Seahawks because I clipped a Sports Illustrated magazine for all things Seahawks. Then I taped them to my gray waist can. I call it the “12th Can”. It’s the baddest bucket in the joint!
So I’m rinsing out the “12th Can” in the shower. In comes a guy named Cramp. How he got that name, I’ll never know. Maybe he gets a lot of cramps, or maybe he cramps other people’s styles. Or maybe his mother got a cramp, and out pops him.
Cramp says to me, “Say homeboy, why you gotta rinse your garbage can where other people shower?” His voice is a slow steady mono-tone. He just woke up and he’s dragging his feet.
I ignore him.
He pushes the issue by saying, “I know you heard me.”
At this point, I can go one of two ways. I can take offense, or I can suppress that thought and say something controlled and deliberate.
For a smart-ass combative response: CLICK HERE
For a controlled deliberate response: CLICK HERE