My lips are shinny from lip balm. The skin on my face is glowing from mass amounts of Oil of Olay. This I know because I just caught a glimps of myself in the reflection of my 7″ touchscreen JP5. Now I feel like blogging. Let’s do it!
I feel good. Just a few hours ago I cut my hair and shaved my face, armpits, and down below. I thought about Suzie as I was manscaping. For those who don’t know what manscaping is, it’s when a man shaves and trims his pubic hairs all around his southern region. Now you know.
Why the hell would a man in prison manscape? Any ideas? You’d be surprised at how many inmates do it. Ask your inmate if he does it. If he says, ”yes” ask him ”why?”
I do it to keep the fleas and crabs off me. It seems to be working.
If your inmate doesn’t trim his bushes, I’d be willing to bet that he has bad breath most the time too. It just seems like those two go hand in hand…bad breath, and a colony of crabs & fleas co-existing in an unruly out-of-control man bush. Pay attention the next time you’re in the visiting room. You’ll see guys scratching their nuts left and right. Thats because they have crabs, fleas, and ball mites. All because they don’t manscape.
I had no idea that this post was going to be so educational for ya all. But since it is, I’ll continue to enlighten.
I’m going to teach you a technique that will enable you to save money on mouthwash. I learned this technique just the other day when I used a sink next to Mike, aka: The Mad Jacker. They call him “The Mad Jacker” because he’s always beating off in the toilet and shower stalls. Everyone knows he does it. But he doesn’t care. He still does it. Mike is crazy. He’s also a genius. Literally. (Read Jesse’s post called Surprised. He’s talking about Mike.)
So I pull up along side of him and start brushing my teeth. Above each sink is a mirror and a little stainless steel shelf. I notice on Mike’s shelf he has floss, toenail clippers, nasal spray, a salt shaker that he stole from the chow hall, and two bottles of mouthwash.
As I’m brushing my teeth, I’m also watching him through my mirror. He has no idea.
He takes a huge swig of mouthwash and starts swishing it around. Then he tilts his head back and vigorously gargles. I can see splashes of mouthwash fly out of his mouth and down his chin and neck. I take a step farther away from him and decide to watch him point blank. Like a statue I just stand and stare as I brush.
After he gargles, he spits the mouthwash into the other mouthwash container. That’s when I noticed that both his mouthwash bottles contained backwashed mouthwash. I gaged.
Then I spit my toothpaste in the sink and said, “What in the world are you doing?”
“Getting ready to brush my teeth.” he says.
“No.” I said, “Why are you spitting mouthwash back into the container?”
As he squeezes indigent toothpaste onto his indigent toothbrush, he says, “The sodium fluoride is still active. I’m not going to waste perfectly good mouthwash.”
(Indigent – An inmate who has less than $10 on his books for 30 days or longer is considered to be “indigent.” Indigent inmates can purchase indigent items as they rack up an indigent debt. NOTE: Indigent items are generic, no name brand items. In other words, they suck!) See: Glossary of Prison Terms
I hide my disgust and act intrigued. “How many times can you use it before the sodium fluoride is no longer active?”
He says, “I’ve been using this stuff for 7 months and it’s still good.”
This guy is totally oblivious to how crazy and gross all this is. In his mind we are having an average everyday conversation.
I ask him, “How do you know when the sodium fluoride is no longer active?”
He simply says, “When it stops burning.”
I then asked him, “Why do you turn off the water when you brush your teeth?”
I asked him that because I do then same thing. It’s obviously to conserve water. But not many guys do that in here. As a matter of fact, some guys deliberately turn on all the faucets and then walk away.
Mike answers, “To save water. By doing so, I save up to 4 gallons of water every time I brush my teeth.”
I ask, “How many times a day do you brush?”
He says, “Three.”
I say, “That’s 12 gallons of water you save per day.”
He says, “Yep. And 4,380 gallons per year.”
I ask, “What do you do with all the water you save?”
He finally looks at me for the first time, cocks his head sideways, and says, “Ha Ha, very funny.”
Then he gathers all his things and speed walks out of the bathroom and to his cell. Mike is always in a hurry no matter where he goes.
Yes, Mike is an odd ball. He does some strange things. But Mike is alright with me. Together we save approximately 8,760 gallons of water per year! Who knew?
Today I went outta my way to put the scriptures into action.
Mark Till is the man with the art. I met Mark on the handball court about a year ago. I asked him, “Can I play?”
He said, “No.”
I didn’t like that answer. Years ago, that answer from someone could’ve led to a fight. I mean, that’s just how I was. That day it was so easy to just walk away. Simple. But I walked away not liking Mark. In fact, I down right dis-liked him.
At lunch I sat with him. I never do that! For lunch we had a baked potato with shredded cheese, I ask him, “Are you eating that cheese?”
He looks at me like I’m stupid and says, “Yeaaaah!” His tone spewed, “That was a dumb question” as his head kinda swiveled from side to side and he prolonged his jaw. Even one side of his cheek was raised up and I could see the whole top of half of his upper teeth.
“Would you like mine?” I asked.
He didn’t look at me. He just grunted, “Yeah right,” as he continued to chop at his potato.
I lifted my tray which has five compartments. The cheese was in the upper right corner, so I lined it up next to his cheese. He stops. Looks at me. And asks, “You don’t want it?”
“Take it,” I say.
He takes it and says, “Thanks man?”
“You’re welcome,” I respond with a smile.
He looks at me in puzzlement to my kindness. In my mind I’m thinking, “What is going on?” I almost wanna laugh. But I just ride it out.
The day goes on, and soon I’m in the chow hall finishing dinner.
I was walking to the garbage to dump my tray. The entire left two compartments held spaghetti noodles. I quickly observed a weirdo (see: Prison Glossary) eyeballing my tray. He’s sitting just one table from the trash can. He knows these noodles are fixing to get dumped.
To my surprise, he doesn’t pull his eyes away. He’s going to watch these perfectly good noodles get thrown away. I get the feeling he wants them.
I know this dude is in prison for some weirdo cyber child sex crime. I’m gonna dump these noodles right infront of his face!
But wait! Today I am serving the Lord.
So I ask Facebook (that is what the prison hierarchy nicknamed this weirdo), “Do you want these?”
He quickly says, “Yes please,” as he looks at me with wonder in his eye.
He did not expect that! I can almost see the excitement in his face. It reminded me of a dog about to get a treat.
I extended my tray towards his. He quickly stood up, leaned over, and bare handed the large pile of noodles from my try!
“Thank you,” he said.
He does a double take. Slight pause. And looks around the room. He’s baffled as to why I am being nice.
This is too much. I actually bust out with a laugh.
What is going on?! Is this God working in my life? Or is all this the result of simply following the fundamental teachings in the scriptures?
I have to be honest with you, I’m conflicted. There’s a large portion in my mind that is skeptical. Is there really a God? I pray about this all the time. I wish my mind didn’t have any doubt. But it does. It’s beyond my control. I can’t just switch it on and off. It is what it is.
But I’m not going to let that stop me from living a life according to the Bible. The Holy Bible is my God. I believe in its philosophies and decrees with all my heart. I will commit to God everything I do. I will continue to pray for wisdom and understanding.
I will continue to go out of my way to put the scriptures of God into my life.
This is a story about Moody.
Moody is a big ol heavy set ex-Marine. In 2004, he was dishonorably discharged for being a jackass.
Upon discharge, Moody took his military skills and applied them to the drug trade. Meth to be exact. He was pretty successful, making about $20K a month.
Today he’s serving 27 years for murder 1. In 2006, he shot and killed a Tacoma man who owed him drug money. DOC policy says inmates who are convicted of Murder1, have to serve 4 years in maximum security before they are eligible for medium/minimum security.
The Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla (AKA: The Walls) is maximum security.
Stafford Creek Correction Center (SCCC) in Aberdeen, WA is medium/minimum security.
Walla Walla is a rough, violent, hardcore place.
SCCC is a mellow, easy breezy, facility that has one of the lowest amounts of violent incidents in the country.
So after 4 years of Walla Walla, Moody comes strolling into SCCC with his chest puffed out like he’s Billy Badass! This was back in 2010.
Right away I didn’t like him. But I was nice and respectful towards him. Mainly because I didn’t want him to give me cause to beat his ass. I was applying tactics and strategies that help me get along with people I don’t care for.
Over the next couple of years I watched Moody bully the weak. He’d spit on people, pull their hair, slap their faces, threaten to stab them, and be very verbally abusive.
I was amazed at how long this went on. SCCC is full of snitches. There were a few times when someone went and told. But Moody always seemed to talk his way out of it. He did go to the hole for three days after he threatened to stab a guy in a wheelchair. But for the most part, Moody was getting away with more misconduct than I’ve ever seen.
It was only a matter of time before the law of attraction caught up with him.
The first big blow came in the form of a rumor. Someone came in from Walla Walla and told everyone that Moody was getting buttf**ked by his cellies back at The Walls. It was also said that Moody ratted out his cellies then checked into PC (Protective Custody).
What a turn of events! Moody’s status instantly dropped down to the level of sex offenders and rats.
Of course Moody denied it. But too many people started to confirm the rumors. The damage was done. The prison population deemed the rumors to be true. As a result, a lot of people stopped associating with Moody. He was forced to find his place within the exact crowd he bullied. He became the leader of the weirdos, the weak, and the lames. (see: Prison Glossary)
One day he got into a heated argument with one of his minions. This argument took place all down the breezeway and into the chow hall. The longer it went on the larger the audience grew. No one really likes Moody. Not even his weak minions.
They were now verbally ganging up on him. Moody found himself out numbered. That’s when he crossed the line and started calling them punks and bitches (knowing they weren’t going to do anything about it).
But one did. The minion replied, “At least we didn’t check in at Walla Walla, or get humped in the booty…Moody Moody.” The minions all laughed. As did several others.
Moody snapped! He grabbed his tray of food and hit one of his minions right in the face with it. Food flew everywhere! Some even landed on a C/O that was just a few feet away.
They cuffed up Moody and the guy with food all over his face. As they were escorted to the hole, the minion shouts, “Typical Moody, pulling a PC move in front of the police!”
Within three days, the minion is back on mainline. Moody stayed in the hole for 30 days. The day Moody gets out, someone confronts him. This someone is a known badass. Moody clams up. He only picks on the weak.
Dude snatches Moody’s ID off his chest and throws it in the urinal. Then he pisses all over it.
Moody runs to his cell and slams the door. Everyone is laughing at him. An hour later Moody comes out. His ID is still in the pisser. He grabs it with his bare hand and washes it. Then he returns to his cell for the rest of the day…skipping dinner.
The next day I see Moody sitting at a table all by himself. I sit next to him. He instantly gets defensive and says, “Leave me alone, I don’t want to hear it, I’m not in the mood!”
“Relax”, I say. “I come in peace. You look like you could use a friend.”
“I don’t have any friends in here”, he barks.
“That’s because your mean to everyone and your always in a negative, bad mood”, I say.
He says, “No. It’s because I’m in prison and everyone in here is a two faced back stabber.”
I roll my eyes. “Come on man! Be realistic with me. I just wanna give you some food for thought. But you gotta take it seriously and be realistic. If you do, I promise you, your life will be so much easier in here.”
“I doubt it!” he says in a dejected voice.
“Do you wanna hear me out?” I ask.
“Feel free”, he says.
“Just be nice to people” I say.
We look at each other for a few seconds. He’s waiting for me to say more. “That’s it?” he asks.
“That’s it!” I say. I continue, “I challenge you to be nice to everyone you encounter for the rest of today. Just try it and see what happens.”
He says, “I doubt it’ll do any good at this point”.
I ask him, “Would you at least like to try? Just to see if anything comes of it?”
I can see he’s at least considering it. I say, “Go over to that table (I nod towards a table of three) and say, “good afternoon gentlemen, would you guys like to get a friendly game of pinochle going?””
Moody gives a sarcastic chuckle and says, “Yeah right. Those guys hate me.”
“So what?” I say. “You gotta start somewhere.”
After about ten minutes, I finally talk Moody into doing it. To Moody’s surprise the guys accept his offer.
To this day Moody has no idea I set up that table of three with a few of my Christian friends. At first they were skeptical and didn’t want to do it. One guy even said, “It’ll never work because Moody would never approach us like that.”
I just said, “You let me worry about that. Are you guys down if I can get him to approach you?” They agreed.
For the next 90 minutes I saw a side of Moody that no one had ever seen. He was smiling and getting along with others. I wish I could say that was a turning point in his life and he’s a changed man. But the truth is, they moved Moody to a different unit where I hear he’s in constant turmoil.
The point of this story is simple. Moody lives a conflicted, hostile life because of the way he treats others. NOT because he’s in prison.
Peace and harmony can be found anywhere. It all starts within.
My desire to help Moody came from a place of love and compassion. I saw he was struggling. I knew I could help. I wish it could’ve been longer than a 90 minute card game. But at least a seed was planted.
So now, every time I see Moody in passing, I remind him of “cause and effect”. I point out that card game to illustrate that peace and harmony is waiting for him if he wants it.
As of today, Moody still struggles.
The Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla is notorious for riots, assaults, stabbings, and killings. So much blood has been spilled, that there is a section on the breezeway known as “blood alley”.
I was there for two years before I watched a man get stabbed three times in the neck.
It was a warm sunny day out in the five acre prison yard. I was walking the track, enjoying the weather. Troy comes up to me and says, “Keep an eye on Terry, he’s going down today.”
Troy is a shot caller (see: Prison Glossary) for the white boys. He’s not a violent man. Meaning, he doesn’t fight or commit acts of violence. He just controls the heroin. This gives him a high ranking within the prison hierarchy. He commits his violence by paying others to do his dirty work.
Today, the victim is Terry. A white boy who’s been down over ten years. He’s also in the dope game and ranks high in the prison hierarchy.
I know more than I should because both Troy and Terry were cellies of mine at different times.
As Terry walks past the phones, Troy says, “Hey brother, will you hold this phone for me?”
Terry says, “I sure will” as he takes the phone from Troy’s hand.
That’s the cue! Within seconds, a big strong hit-man had Terry pinned against the concrete wall. I was maybe fifteen feet away as I watched Terry get stabbed three times in the neck.
I thought I was going to see a beat-down. I had no idea I’d be watching an attempted murder.
The incident was an eye opener…to say the least. It showed me how fast people can turn on each other in here. Everyone involved all called each other “brother” at one point in time. Now they were trying to kill each other.
At some point almost everyone ponders the question, “Is there really a God?”
For years I kept that thought to myself. Even when I was on fire for the Lord. I wondered in the back of my mind if He was real.
I prayed thousands of prayers asking for clarity. I was conflicted. I still am conflicted. Is God real?
One thing that I am NOT conflicted on is the fact that if you live by the laws of the Bible, you’ll live a righteous life.
Early on in my incarceration, I turned away from religion. However, I continued to pray to a God that I didn’t know for sure even existed. I want to believe in God. But for some reason, my mind questions Him.
So for 15+ years I lived without God. I attempted to rehabilitate myself and to live a righteous life without Him. I attempted to do all the right things without God.
How’d that work out for me?
Not good! I continued to get in fights. I still had excess turmoil and conflict in my life. There was a key element I couldn’t figure out. There was something I didn’t quite understand. As a result, I continued to suffer.
For example: On 8/13/12, I went to the hole for no reason. They placed me on “Administrative Segregation”. (also known as: Ad Seg.) The Ad Seg Referral looked like this:
I couldn’t believe it! It all was a lie! At my Ad Seg hearing, they read me the entire referral then asked, “Do you understand why you’re in Seg?”
I said, “No.”
“What don’t you understand?” he said in a curt voice.
I said, “Everything in that statement is a lie.”
He responded, “The investigation will determine that.”
Then a lady on the committee asks, “Did they take $400 in your commissary from you?”
“No. They took about $195 in commissary. And I have a receipt for everything. My receipts are in a green folder marked “RECEIPTS.”
At this point a coupe committee people look at each other then shuffle through a few papers. The statement I just gave them is either true or false. There’s no gray area. There’s no debate. I have their full attention.
I break the silence by saying, “Some inmates are just mad at me, so they told you guys lies to get me in trouble. I’ve never strongarmed anyone. And I surely don’t need any protection.”
The lady quickly asks, “Why would inmates be mad at you?”
I pause for a moment of thought then say, “I’m not exactly sure. The only thing that comes to mind is something that happened last week.”
“What happened last week?”
I told her, “Some weirdo (see: Prison Glossary) kept on trying to talk to me. At first I was polite. But then he started to make a habit of it. So I told him to “get the f**k away from me and don’t ever talk to me unless I talk to you first.” Then I turned to his little weirdo crew and said, “That goes for all of you.’”
Again, the Ad Seg committee all looked at each other.
I offered one last statement, “I was telling people to leave me alone…not strongarming them.”
Three days later I was cleared of all charges. No infraction was written. They put me back in the same unit, and in the same cell. They apologized and gave me back all my commissary. I had to show receipts…but they gave it all back.
These type of things littered my life. I was not in harmony with the word of God. I did not live by the scripture. I would pray every now and then, but that was it.
Proverbs 18:7 says, A fools mouth is his undoing, and his lips are a snare to his soul.
Ain’t that the truth!
Today I use the Bible to guide me. I believe in the fundamental teachings. I apply the scripture to my daily living.
Does God exist? I don’t know. I can’t lie to myself. And I won’t lie to you. I am still conflicted.
But one thing I know without a doubt: When I live according to the Bible, my life is so much better. I truly feel blessed.
1 Peter 3:8
My humble prayer request: “Please God, show me the way.”
Prison has its own language. To help you better understand, I’ve put together this glossary of prison terms.
5-0 (pronounced “five-oh”) – slang. a C/O, corrections officer
Binky – (n.) homemade prison syringe
Bitch – (n.) A derogatory word used to degrade or belittle someone. The meaning varies depending on the context in which its used. This word is more of a fighting word…meaning, if someone is called a “bitch” they’re usually fighting within seconds.
Call Out – (n.) A daily bulletin posted for all inmates to see. This bulletin consist of the time and place in which inmates are to report. (ie. work, school, medical, property room, religious activities, etc.)
Cat call – (v.) inmate heckling, usually of either a C/O or undesirable inmates
Cell In – (v.) A term used as a directive by staff when telling inmates to go in their cell. “CELL IN NOW MISTER!!!”
Cell time – (n.) time alone in your cell
Celly – (n.) someone who shares the cell; a roommate
Chain – (n.) a group of inmates chained together for transport who arrive at a prison
Check in – (v.) to volunteer to be secluded into Protective Custody
Chi Mo – (abbrev.) slang. child molester
C/O – (abbrev.) Corrections Officer, also “cop” or “pig”
Count – (v.) A time when the facility counts the inmates. Everyone has to “cell in” for count.
CUS – (abbrev.) Custody Unit Supervisor. A high ranking official in charge of living units. (Lieutenant status)
Day Room – (n.) A huge living room where games and socializing takes place. SCCC day rooms consist of 26 tables, 104 seats, a microwave, 8 phones, ice machine, hot water dispenser (180°), and its where the “Call outs” are posted.
Dry cell – (n.) prison cell with no sink or toilet inside the cell
Dry snitch – (v.) snitching without directly snitching; drawing attention to the infraction in a roundabout way
Duck – (n.) a new inmate off the chain; many “waddle” from keistering contraband
Fellas – (n.) a group of solid guys who all get along and respect each other
Hole – (n.) short-term segregation (normally 30-60 days or less)
House – (n.) one’s prison cell
IMU – (n. abbrev.) Intensive Management Unit, long-term segregation
Indigent – An inmate who has less than $10 on his books for 30 days or longer is considered to be “indigent.” Indigent inmates can purchase indigent items as they rack up an indigent debt. NOTE: Indigent items are generic, no name brand items.
Ish – (abbrev.) slang. issue
Keep point – (v.) to watch or be on the lookout for a guard; military lingo
Keister – (v.) to hide something inside your rectum
Kite – (n.) document with an inmate request or question to a staff member; snitches may “drop a kite” to snitch in writing
Lame – (n.) someone who is not a “fella” but also is not a sex offender or a rat
Mainline – (n.) general population, also mealtime or dining hall
Mean Mugging – (v.) to look at someone with an angry expression on your face
One time – (n.) a guard
Paperwork – (n.) a statement of ones criminal history
PC – (abbrev.) Protective Custody
Piece of Shit – (n.) someone who isn’t solid; lowest in the prison hierarchy
Porter – (n.) one hired to do routine cleaning
Pruno – (n.) prison wine, made from decaying oranges, apples, potatoes, etc.
Punk – (n.) someone who performs sexual acts for little or no profit
Rape-o – (n.) slang. A rapist
Re-cop – (v.) replenish the drug supply
Running Store – (v.) to front items from commissary for a profit
Segregation – (n.) 24/7 lockdown
Shakedown – (v.) A thorough search of mass proportion
Shank – (n.) homemade weapon used for stabbing
Shotcallers – (n.) anyone who wields power and influence in prison. Usually the drug dealers, but can be anyone with a service in demand and a lot of charisma
Solid – (adj.) used to describe someone who isn’t a piece of shit
SO – (abbrev.) sex offender
SOS – (abbrev.) slang. Smash on Site
Street to Street – (v.) one inmate’s family or friends sending money to another inmate’s family or friends with no direct inmate involvement
Swine – (n.) pejorative term for prison guard; like calling a policeman a “pig”
Torpedo – (n.) someone hired or assigned to carry out an assault
UA – (n.) urine analysis. A piss test.
Wet cell – (n.) prison cell with a stainless steel sink and toilet inside the cell
Weirdo – (n.) a rat, a sex offender, or someone with some kind of dirty history
Yahoo – (n.) someone who is always running their mouth about others
Yard – (n.) An outdoor recreational area