Sunday, September 9, 2012

Jail house confessions


Today was my first day of serving my jail sentence for the brawl that went down between me and the payphone.  In case you’re wondering, I did get my fingers unstuck from the coin return.  It happened during the strip search in the booking process.  I was so shocked at being strip searched that my whole body contracted.  Did I get my one phone call?  Hell no!  But then again, no zombie at the grave yard has a mobile phone.  So, in my cell there were two drunks, one sleeping on either side of me on the bench.  If fact, each one was leaning on me and causing great discomfort which you can not imagine.  Finally, drunk #1 woke up, scratched his week old beard, picked his nose and said, “Say buddy, what time is it?”  His breath smelled like rotten eggs and stale beer.  After finding out that his name was Denton, I responded, “Time for you to take your smelly ass to the other side of the cell.”  My stern statement woke up Vladamir (drunk #2).  Vladamir was only interested in one thing, “Uhhh, comrade, do you have a smoke?”  Vladamir was most certainly an expert in vodka.  He smelled like it had been running through his veins since before the start of The Cold War.  I chuckled and said, “Vladamir, the cops don’t allowing smoking in the cells, and even if they did, it is very bad for your health.  You don’t want that crap.”  Vladamir and Denton both thought that was funny.  In their amusement at my free medical advice, they laughed almost uncontrollably.  Vladamir started to belch and Denton joined in by farting in perfect concert pitch.  The stench almost put me down, that’s right a stinkin’ zombie such as myself was almost overpowered by the evil gases which permeated the room.  I waited for my two new friends to calm back down.  Then I unbuttoned my shirt, pulled back my flesh and revealed the black lungs inside my rib cage.  Vladamir and Denton couldn’t have sobered up any quicker.  Denton yelled for the cops to let them out, while Vladamir prayed for his misfortune to turn around, something along the lines that he’d never take another drop of alcohol ever again if God would help him out of this desperate situation.  Yeah, I’ve heard that before.  
 
 
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