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Shanks and Sugar Plums

Each night before I go to bed, I prop my iPad up on the end table next to the bed to watch some copywritten tv shows on YouTube.  More specifically I watch old episodes of National Geographics "Lock-Up".  There is nothing better than being whisked away to dream land with the pleasant thoughts of Arizona's Tent City, or any one the million county lock ups in the good ol' US of A.  Aside from learning that that I can melt the end of a toothbrush into a knife if I ever get into a jam, I have also learned something interesting about myself (well being honest, I have always known this, just never wanted to think to much about it,) I don't seem to think to much about myself.

When I start thinking about how I would handle time in the big house, my mind goes immediately to what i think is probably a pretty fucked up place.  I just think about what it would be like to be all alone in the yard with no one to talk to.  I think about how jealous i would be of the popular inmates that have friends and family come to visit while I sit alone in my cell jerking off thinking about one of the Latin men i saw earlier in the shower.

I was never picked in gym class when it was time to form a soccer team and I rarely had plans on a Friday night, I ate most of my lunches with the guidance councillor.  Who is to say that this wouldn't just continue on in the slammer.  I am simply not good enough, nor do I possess the right attributes to get picked on ho row.

I am left completely alone with a carton of cigarettes that no one is interested in, dropping bar after bar of soap with no one to pick it up.  My skin reminiscent of an avocado.

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