These are all our thoughts in word form. Not to be confused with our thoughts in worm form. Those look like this.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

The Night I Spent In Jail By John Galt

I had never served time before and was noticeably nervous as I made my way into my cell. After a quick look around, I could tell that the talk on the streets hadn't over-stated the conditions in the big house. No TV, small beds, a scary bunk mate that reminded me of Romper-stomper. Yeah Hollywood got it exactly right.
I tried to make small talk with my cell mate, Mike from Upyourassistan, until free time with no success, it seemed as though I'd need to find friends elsewhere. Walking out of my 10'x10' state supplied box, I surveyed the scene playing out before me, a knife fight broke out within 5 minutes and I knew this place was serious. How did I get stuck with these animals? I'm not like them. How I supposed to know that California's 3 strike rule applied to Dorito theft?
I needed to make a plan of action to survive. TV had been faithful to me so far so I decided to keep going with that paradigm. Step 1, I need to prove my toughness. Not being a man of particular strength I waited till lunch and looked for my target. That's when I saw a rather portly looking man eying the desert stand from afar. I decided that it was he who would be the unlucky receptacle for my wrath. I managed to find Mike and ask who my would-be victim was. His name was “Porkchop.”
I had to move fast as lunch time was quickly coming to a close. Porkchop had managed to finagle an extra pudding cup somehow and was sitting alone near the back left of the cafeteria. I ran quickly back up to my cell and found a shiv that Mike had kept under his mattress. Out of breath, and nearly out of time, I ran down to Porkchop and set myself in position.
“What'd you say punk?” I managed to spit out in between puffs of breath
“Excuse me?” He uttered in a dialect similar to that of Sloth's from the Goonies
“Take that!” I yelled as I shanked him right in the ribs
Porkchop collapsed with a loud thud and time seemed to stop. I could make out of the corner of my eye the horror in the faces of the other inmates, one was about to cry. Almost immediately they were upon me, some were attending to Porkchop while the rest had the look of bloodlust in their eyes.
“What the hell you think you doin’ boy?” the apparent leader inquired
“Well… he uhh… said something about my mother” I stuttered 
“Porkchop was off limits man, we was all protectin’ him. He's learnin’ disabled fool! The boy eats soup with a fork!”
I knew I had obviously done something incredibly wrong, I fell to my knees and begged for my life. In the end I felt no pity for Porkchop. I had to give him all the Twinkies I got for the rest of my time there and feed him on soup days. Looking back though I did learn a valuable life lesson, sometimes it's better to drop the soap in the shower than to stab a learning disabled man in the cafeteria. And that kids, is something you can take to the bank.

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