Sunday, 5 December 2010


For the first few days in the box, i find it extremely difficult to sleep, for many reasons.
 The most obvious being that i'm used to sleeping in a warm comfortable bed,
not in a freezing cold fart infested cell, on a paper thin 'mattress', getting constantly woken up the sound of
 "Sorry my freind, i need shit"
and then constant flushing of the toilet (in jail, while mid-shit, you need to keep flushing the toilet so you don't hotbox the cell with shit fumes).
 One of the reasons i can't sleep, is i keep thinking i am hallucinating, seeing things moving across the floor. After a few days of bugging out thinking i'm losing it bigtime, i realise my eyes are not playing tricks on me, and i see the mouse. No problemo.
 Some people hate them, but to me, i just saw this mouse as being in the same boat as me and my hairy turkish behind.
 Then the day comes when we see the waterbug/cockroach. Unsuprisingly, there is no such sympathy or comradarie between us.
For two days i ask the guards for some kind of disinfectant or cleaning products. The responses range from yes, no, fuck you, fuck off, to kill them yourself and eat it you moron. Finally, a response of 'ok'. Nice.
 So about an hour goes past, we play some cards. D tells me some stories about prison in Russia. He says there are ten people in each cell, and the toilet is in the middle of the room, raised up, like a podium. Jokes.
 "oh shit!"
 I look over, and in the middle of the floor, lies the mouse. Dead.
He doesn't look like he died a pieceful death either.
 The two of us just stare at it for a good 5 minutes.
     ", this is not a good sign dude"
For me, in my depressed state, i take it as an extreme downer. D on the other hand, has a different theory.
 "i think cockroach make decleration of war, look at mouse, if you fuck with us it happen to you"
We spent the next half hour bickering about who is going to get rid of the corpse/flush it down the toilet.
 It's decided over a game of cards/shithead. I win, as usual.
My russian freind says a prayer, then flushes Topo Gigio off to a brighter tomorrow in turdsville tennesse.
 We didn't use the bug spray, and we never saw the cockroach again.

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