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Day 50

Friday, March 24, 2000

Clarence has become a much larger pain in the ass. Now that Rocky is gone, Clarence is the second biggest guy in the hole. Second, that is, to me, and not by much. It is obvious, in this 17x13 foot testosterone filled room, that Clarence is in no way afraid of me and gets a kick out of bullying hose smaller than he. Before he couldn't do anything because was afraid of Rocky. Now Rocky is gone, and I've never been anything but nice to him, which he somehow misinterpreting as a weakness. I hope he isn't also making the misguided assumption that I fear HIM. I'm to the point that I just ignore his incessant mouth. He's becoming a big bully, however, and that bothers me.

In addition, he has now given me a new nickname. He calls me "Hamster Boy", making reference to a comment by Buddy Love to Prof. Crump's lab assistant in The Nutty Professor. I'll admit it irritates the shit out of me, but then again, nearly everything he does irritates the shit out of me.

He talked shit to me tonight to the point that he threatened to hit me. I didn't say a word to him, just gave him a stern look, then looked away. O have no intention to get violent with this imbecile, but if he pushes me to that point, one of us is going to get hurt in a very bad way. I don't want that for wither of us. So far my silence has just made him pick on Opie or Maurice, which pisses me off just about as bad as him picking on me.

Here's one example of what else annoys me. We don't have a radio because we're in the hole, but Opie has about 6 AA batteries. They are all dead. He said he's keeping them as a "jail souvenier." They have the little "power tester" on the side confirming that they are all deader than hell. But Clarence knows a jailhouse miracle. He found that if you submerge them in hot water, the power tester will move to show full strength, and is therefore fully recharged. I don;t have the time nor patience to explain to him that its a matter of heat, not battery strength. It would be pointless to try.

Well, I think all my pens are failing me now. Both of my jail issue BIC pens have been far below useful since I got them. I've been using mainly my Pilot precise V-5 Rolling Ball pen with the extra fine tip. that's the one I snuck in on Feb 11, and have been using to write entry after entry ever since. Well the little bastard finally ran out of ink. Now I only have these BIC pens that MIGHT thart the left side of the page in black ink, and by the time you get to the right side of that line, wou're just making an imprint in the paper. Another of the trials of living in jail.

Now Maurice is at the door trying to sell my old inkless pen for two commissary items, since the buyer won't know it doesn't work until Maurice has already eaten the payment. Meanwhile, Clarence is taking it apart to see how it works, and Opie is asking Clarence if time seems to go faster ifwe sleep all day and stay up all night. A few moments ago he declaired me a genius, called me Einstein, and told me I should have made something of my self. Now I'm getting a self improvement speech from a guy who seems to be as bright as a cave.

Only another day and a half with this collection of misfits, and three total days until my release. 72 hours. Nine substandard meals. One chicken dinner.

At least Bushman will be glad I'm out. I know he's sick of trying to read my writing, especially with these pens. You should see this shit.

Bushman, you're a real trooper.


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