Finish What You Start
People act like complete jackasses in prison even under normal circumstances, but I’ve been seeing some unfuckwithable tomfoolery recently. My bunkie had his face beat in a few weeks ago and somehow the perpetrator wasn’t caught, even though our dorm has surveillance cameras and a CO always on watch. In most prisons perpetrators of cuttings, stabbings, and severe beatdowns usually get caught and are taken out of population. If someone is attacked and left to survive Upstate, where there are no cameras, it’s not unusual for a very dirty surprise attack to occur in response. I’ve witnessed a few wigs get split in the middle of the night by a lock in a sock, I’ve heard stories about people getting boiling baby oil dumped on them, and seen guys walking around with these ugly scars. Revenge is common in here, so finish what you start.
My bunkie was scared when he got beat. He’s a little white guy with a big mouth but not much backbone. A big black dude attacked him and he curled up in a ball. He could have fought back with any weapon and done anything and would have probably gotten away with claiming self-defense. Instead, he made peace with the dude and now he gives him his salad every day. The big bully then happened to get into beef with a few other guys in here who decided to start spitting in the salad. The bully was eating a bunch of convict spit, and then one day someone comes out of the bathroom with a medicine cup full of piss and dumps it in the salad. Naturally, the next day multiple dudes’ sperm was in the salad. The bully deserves it but I haven’t contributed to the grossness because I avoid drama at all costs. But really, what kind of dumb motherfucker takes food from someone he repeatedly punched in the face a few weeks ago?
All too often in prison, the weak are preyed upon. There’s a kid who weighs maybe 110 pounds who melted his eyebrows off with Magic Shave (Nair) for two Ramen noodle packets. I call him “Tummysticks” because he looks like the gay brother artist in Wedding Crashers with a bad crack habit. This poor bastardo has nothing, so some assholes decide to feed him, except they put contact lens solution in his food. Supposedly, this Visine stuff is a severe laxative, which I never believed until Tummysticks ran back and forth to the bathroom screaming, “I have the shits!” He was hunched over in his cube clutching his gut while we all laughed. Some guys joked about how long it would be before he “hangs up” (jail lingo for suicide). It’s a cruel world.
We had an excellent sissy fight the other day. The schizo crackhead who flashed the lady cop got replaced by another crackhead who talks to himself. He picked a fight with a Jamaican crackhead and the two dummies pushed each other around the dorm pulling hair, screaming, slapping, and looking like 100 percent bonafide pussies. The CO pulled the pin, which means there’s two minutes to fight before the “turtles” show up in full riot gear. Five of those retards came rushing in with body armor, shields, and helmets with visors looking fucking ridiculous trying to break up a fight between two crackheads weighing in at a combined 250 pounds.
The turtles are always on duty and they rarely do anything except sit in a room with their turtle outfits waiting for a Code Red, kinda like firemen, but completely useless. These COs get paid 90 grand a year but they can’t break up a fight? Stinky pussies. I cannot fathom a more overpaid profession. This jail is wiping its unbonerable ass with taxpayer money. There are hundreds of people in here for no reason, but you already knew that. They told me I could leave three weeks ago, but I’m still waiting for my PO to sign me out. These scumfuckers act like every day, every week in here doesn’t mean shit, but if we threw their family members in here, they’d probably care. Oh well, I’m a marked man.
Sometimes it seems like it’d be fun to fight in here, but then I’d get stuck in the shit even longer. Once you’re in the system, they try to hold onto you. Luckily, apparently I have an air of insanity around me ‘cause no one ever fucks with me, which is kind of a surprise after all the shit I’ve seen pop off. Odds are my number will come up soon enough, but at least my three to nine year sentence is almost over.
Well, they tell me that my PO will come and save me soon from this temporary hell. I don’t know when it will be, though, which is kinda fucking with my head. I was having a wonderful summer till a cop decided to search me for no reason in Yonkers at 9:15 PM. He let me go ‘cause I wasn’t in the wrong, but I still ended up in here for two months for a curfew violation. Just what I need, another aching pain in the dick… Fuck this, I need to go cash out in the shower. They’re about to close so I’ll need to splash ‘n’ dash. See you in the real world.
Bert Burykill is the pseudonym of our prison correspondent, who is currently serving time in a prison in New York. When he's not in jail he tweets here. Previously on Pen Pals:
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