Wednesday, 31 October 2012

That how you gonna carry me Dog

For some reason..

All the streetlamps across the road are out..

A little bit of a change of scenery
for me on this Sunday night in
New York City..

I'm slowly drinking a cup of coffee..

The place is pretty quiet tonight..

I like it.


Took a nice hot shower before locking in..

Washed all my clothes..

An now i'm settling in for the evening..

I can feel a cool breeze blowing through
the vent that's opposite my bed.

I'm a little tired but i feel pretty content right now,
hence me putting pen to paper.

My eyes are tired and sore from all the soap,
last time i looked in the mirror they was kinda
red too..

With the hat i bought him for his birthday cocked to one side,
my bunkie is brushing his teeth..

Every so often leaning to one side to spit
mouthfulls of minty toothpaste into the steel toilet..

You never spit in the sink in prison..

"Cos' it's nasty..toothpaste stains..all kinda nasty ass shit..y'know what i mean"

(I don't know what he means but still you don't do it so i don't do it..)

He raises a big sweatshirt-clad arm an clicks the light on..

I ask what he's doing..

A second later..

I see a stream of liquid erupt from his face onto the mirror..

A few insults get hurled..

An he just laughs..


After cleaning the mirror,
he finally clicks the light off an stands in
the middle of the room holding a piece of
tissue on his face..

Then walks over to my bed,
resting his hands and chin on
my mattress..

"You see when it bust?"

More insults are hurled..

Which prompts him to un-ravel
the piece of tissue and hold it above his head..

"Look dog look"

I'm not looking..


Before he climbs down onto his bed for the evening,
i ask him if he has ever seen that movie..

"What movie?"

I fart..

More insults..

An another day is down..

My coffee tastes really good by the way.


I been rockin' it with a couple scoops of hot chocolate in it,
an busting a couple of mints in it too..

"Yo what the fuck IS that Timmy? Hot chocolate?"

I explain.

"Timmy always be makin' some DUMB SHIT yo!"


"NAH but hold UP! Word to my MOTHER i be tryin' some'a
that shit TImmy be makin', that shit be a'IGHT son!!

I've got to find SOME way to give my life a little bit of variety..

More often than not..

It is found in putting 'dumb shit' together..


But you probably knew that already..

Sunday, 28 October 2012

Next stop Trauma Unit

Thursday night..

The Drama Hour!!

Dudes to the left and right and opposite and above..

-NOT Stomping on floors

-NOT banging on walls

-an also NOT banging on doors

"That's my SON Yo"


Despite corny lyrics and questionable credibility of said lyricists..

The Drama Hour is one of the highlights of the week.

I'm flicking' between that an ANOTHER very good
set on WKCR.ORG called Rap cats.

That's a completely different affair..

More chilled out beats..

Better bars..

Plus there's no commercial breaks!!

Trust me this is a big thing,
the TV over here is SO fucking bate!!

You don't get more than like FIVE MINUTES without a commercial break,
an then the break lasts about ten minutes too!! It's fucking LONG!!

I seen episodes of that 'Gangland' show..

On YouTube it's about fifteen minutes long.

Yet they got it on the telly over here
in forty five minutes episodes..

Shit is so retarded..

So what to do.

Watch the Spanish channel instead!!

This is my favorite show right now..

I watch it every couple of days in a big group
of Dominican and Puerto Rican dudes..

You don't need to understand the language
to watch this show.

Check it out and you'll see exactly what i mean..

It's TOO jokes..


I'm back to Dezzy Dez an the Drama Hour.

Lots of unconvincing claims of moving bricks..

Being strapped while going to court..

An it's all set off by some next aggy beats
an pure gonshat samples..


Good stuff..

Friday, 26 October 2012

Six til noon weekdays

I wake to a very cold room.

It's dimly lit..

An the door is locked.

Not that i particularly care.


I got cereal AN milk AN coffee AN a copy of Spice Magazine..

Hot water's working?

Keep the fucking door locked.

It really is cold in here..

My tshirt an shorts combo ain't puttin' no twerk in
an neither is my paper thin Rizla blanket!!

What to do..What to do..


No no no..

Socks and a beanie hat.

Much better..


So i'm laying here with the radio on,
trying to wake up as slowly as possible. There are shadows dotted
around the room that keep growing and shrinking due to the clouds
that have covered the sky in a grey mass.

It looks very gloomy in here.

People outside look bloody miserable..

If only they knew..

"Yo TimDizzly"


What could you possibly want from me now.

"This what London look like on the regular my n****r?"


"This that London FOG BABY!!"



In one swift motion..

With my arm DEFINITELY NOT planted on the pipe above,
i scoot off the side of the bed and bounce off the table using
the end of my toes..

Some people are impressed when i do this.

They really shouldn't be..


It only requires time..

The doors are open now..

Time to eat..

Tuesday, 23 October 2012


I got the news this week that a good friend of mine
has been incarcerated in the United Kingdom prison system.

I do not think incarceration for this individual benefits any
party involved whatsoever as this was a hardworking, intelligent
individual who was carving out a career, studying, he was gaining
the necessary qualifications to better himself and earnt an honest
living in the process.

This is a good man with an incredible amount of potential,
despite the sentence that has been handed to him i know that
this will NOT stop him from achieving great things in life..

He will be back soon..

But While he IS incarcerated..

I'm sure it would be of great benefit to him if people can
show him that they have not and WILL not forget about him!!

Remind him that this is ONLY temporary!!

So that when the time comes for him to touch the town again..

He'll hit the ground running..

Stay focussed mate you'll be just fine.


"Men are more ready to repay an injury than a benefit,
because gratitude is a burden and revenge is a pleasure" - TACITUS, C.A.D. 55-120

Monday, 22 October 2012

They got thick bitches over there?

My sleep patterns have changed again.

I'm staying up late sketching..



Staring at the ceiling..

All the while accompanied by ultra
depressive musical accompaniment.

Anxiety at my upcoming sentencing?

That would be a good guess.


The idea of movement and a definitive time frame
on my captivity IS something i am positive about..

Don't get it fucked up..

But i guess it's the uncertainty the situation.

Or maybe even a fear of change?

I mean..

We are SUPPOSED to be beings of habit.


As in we find comfort in our routines and schedules.

We become familiar with our surroundings..

An again don't get it fucked up,
i don't like being in prison and i am not
in a state of mind where i want to stay here
for even a second longer than i have to..

But i am pretty nervous at the moment.

Although what's coming might actually involve me being
freed from captivity and let back out into the world..

Coming back to the human race
after years of being held as a hostage..


It also might not.


Which brings a whole ASS hole full of bullshit
that you can probably imagine asking yourself
if you were in my (fake Nike) shoes..

-How MUCH longer am i going to be held?

-WHERE am i going to be sent next?

-What will it actually be like in this next yard?

And so on and so forth..

I try my best NOT to address
these questions whenever possible.

It's a waste of time..

Instead of imagining the worst that could happen,
i try to flip it and instead imagine myself in another jail
doing even better that i am now.

Picturing nightmare situations doesn't prepare me for anything..

Except being next level prang.

An if i wanted to do that
I'd still be Bunning sour.

Which i am not!!

I have an asshole full of clean piss-tests to prove it..


When i DO stare at the ceiling an bug out,
i try to direct my thoughts onto something that
is going to inspire me and keep me going throughout
the day instead of crippling my motivation.

I have many future plans..

An i flick between them..

They're images i have cut and pasted in my brain.

Different (currently) fictional scenarios..

I've spent years putting them together..

Many nights and days have been spent staring
at the (almost) blank canvas above my bed,
shaping ideas and dreams that keep me going
whenever i start to lose focus and think that my
life is destined to be spent in shackles an blues.

People and places..

Different faces..

Sometimes i end up falling asleep
and waking up outside surrounded
by people i know who tell me they've
missed me and that everything is
going to be ok..

Eventually it will yes.


These dreams and thoughts of what i can do with myself
when i get out help to point my nose in the right direction.

After two years of..


A very solitary uphill battle against..


Now i actually have a (rough and likely to change) date
which COULD mean me being finally released from
captivity and returning to the human realm..

Or possibly doing another seven fucking years in prison..


It's only natural for me to be..


Concerned about my predicament..

So this is how I'm dealing with things.

One day at a time.

Sunday, 21 October 2012

Caffeine sweats

As i put pen to paper,
I don't have any particular topic in mind.

There are no specific scenarios i want to
back track on right now and i don't have any
idea as to what i should write on this paper..

I just like how easy it is to write with this pen,
and i've just finished my first cup of coffee in a week.

So let's see where i can go with this.

For a start it's a Tuesday night in New York City.

It's late and i'm locked in,
listening to some Howling Wolf.

His tunes are pretty heavy,
his voice gets a little jarring after a while.

What else..

I just made eye contact with some dude across the hall.

He took it upon himself to shave his beard off today,
because of this he's been hounded by dudes shouting at him,
saying his face looks like a big white pussy.


Whenever i listen to blues music in here,
i can't help either laughing or smiling to myself
at the irony of the situation.

Looking around the room..

Bars on windows..


A grimey-ass mirror..

It's like one of them American jail movies.

Then add the Blues..

Just like in them jail movies.

Except i'm actually here.

IN the fucking jail.

An it ain't no fucking movie!!


Add a 260 pound cellmate..


At least the beginning of the end is
starting to come into view..

About FUCKING TIME too..

I can't even take a fucking
DUMP in peace anymore..

"That n****r Timdog in there cashin' a cheque to one of them muscle fitness books!! No bullshit!!"

"Yo Thas' BRAYZEE my n****r!!"


First off..

Aint NO cheques getting motherfucking cashed in the MIDDLE
OF THE DAY while a squad of MORONS are outside the fucking door..

That's some next tramp move..


Absolute fucking retards.

I ain't been down THAT long..

"This n****r was cashin' out to a National Geographic! Lookin' at how to disect a FROG! FREAK N****R!"

It's gotta be said though..

No pussy for two years..

Madame palm is starting to really lose her sex appeal.

I dun tried dressing her up in new garms..

Giving the dirty slag a make over..

But it ain't working and the bitch just looks pure busted.

I dun busted her ass so many times now she's beyond loose,
an no matter what kind of contortions i be twistin' the bitch
she ain't doin' nothing for me no more..

SHIT man..

Some days i end up just looking down,
an my dick looks back up me with this pathetic look on his face..

He just looks so fucking disapointed in its master..

He looks back up at me and asks me..

"What the FUCK is the point.."

I have no answer..

When life has crumbled away to the point where
you are jerking a completely un-interested piece of
meat-clad tubing to the same weak-ass softcore porno
magazine for years on end..

FUCK man..


Should i put the pen down?

Mostly probably.

But words keep coming to me..

This blue pen is also weaving them together
so effortlessly that i don't really CARE
what the content is anymore or how the
fuck i sound talking about this shit..

My back is throwing a spanner in the works though,
about eighty per cent of my writing and drawing is put
together while in a cross-legged position on my steel bed..

An i can tell you for free,
Sitting like this does my
spine no favours..

Even Yoga stretches are proving
to be pretty pointless, each time i do i get worried as
i hear about a thousand little cracks and pieces of my
flesh snapping into different positions..

It's a little worrying i must admit..

I should really stop writing..

Sooner or late it's going to take a trip south..

A predictable re-hash of a a prior memory or experience..

An unconvincing attempt at masking resent towards prior aquaintances..

Perhaps talking about what i have planned for the future?


No that's probably not a good idea either..

Its like an extreme dick-tease.


So yeah..

I might as well brush my teeth and tongue (you're supposed to)..

Do the rest of my monotomous regime that i've been doing for
the last thousand million days i been held captive in here..

Then lay in the dark..

Staring at the ceiling..

Saturday, 20 October 2012

Once every thousand years

Just finished putting together some letters..

I need to piss but my knee is giving me the asshole today.

Each time i clumb off the bed it starts whining..

So i'm gonna long it off til i REALLY need to go.

It's more than likely the running.

In such a small space..

Unless you're running ultra slow/lame..

You can't help but running at an angle,
and my knee seems to have deemed that shit
Haram and is in full protest mode right now.

I think running like this is
starting to push the cartiledge out of my knee.


I'm trying to take my mind off it right now by putting
these sketches and letters together..
















-Maureen and John


-Ozer and Michelle/My parents

-Liz and Tim/My Godparents




-Pete in Australia

-Steve D

-Very talented individual who put together that deep blank ink piece with all the drips (no address/name)

-Person with very good taste who sent me 'The Filth' comic book (no address/name)

Thankyou for the support you've all given me lately.

Things are certainly not easy at the moment.

The little bits people have been doing for me have
helped to take my mind off things and bring some peace
of mind concerning what's coming up in the next month or so.

-Sending me books/magazines/comics..

-keeping in touch through emails/letters/on the phone..

-Putting together character references..

-Sending me sketches and photos in the mail..

It's really appreciated.

Please keep it coming.



I think i fucked the N up..

Too many bits coming off..

Friday, 19 October 2012

Back in 20 loads


"Yo wudup"

"What's most chicks response when they
find out you've just come home from a bid?"


"Like how do they react?"

"Bitches are eager to try out the bone"

"For real?"

"Very eager my n****r"

"Yeah? i bet it took you a while to get your shit back though,
im'a probably get a blowjob before i try stabbin' any pussy"

"N****R!! Even if she eat your Turkish hammer up,
you'll be finished in no more than ten strokes.."


"How long did it take YOU to get match fit?"


"I ain't had no pussy in two years man!!"


"I'm probably gonna need some time to get my shit back right?"



"I don' think i EVER came back dog.."

"Nah real talk it'll take you about twenty nuts before you get back my n****r.."

"Jus' make sure when you finally get you some black pussy i'm there to supervise my n****r,
that chocolate bitch throw that black asshole down on you.."

"You might catch another case.."

Wednesday, 17 October 2012

Yes G What's good




The bed-shakeningly loud moans,
coughs, farts and snores from a 260 pound
seasoned criminal?

-Thoughts of the past?

-Hopes for the future?





Not tonight..

The pitter-patter of tiny paws darting across plastic tiles
and the KRAK noise of a shell falling off the wall followed by
a scuttling of pincers between hiding places..

That is why i cannot sleep.


I currently cannot turning onto my left side
to ignore all of this bullshit either..

A public relations incident is to blame.


Not so good..

I'm sure getting a good night's sleep would be a good look,
or would at least do something towards my recupporation.

Perhaps sharing my good deed of the day might help
to take my mind off all the bullshit and relax a little..

Let's see..

-I removed all the shoes and sneakers,
then with a big dusty-ass broom i swept up all the bollocks,
food remnants and numerous bodily debree up off from the floor.

-We got this cleaning shit called 'Simple Green' that smells like apples,
i busted bare licks of that shit all over the floor an after letting it dry,
got on my hands an feet (NOT knees) with a big manky brush an scrubbed
all the caked on grime off the floor in the most aggressive manner you can imagine.

I did NOT wear rubber gloves.

Nor did i get called a 'pure bitch' by
people walking past.


I'm just sayin'.

-Using a rag and a healthy globule of phlegm,
i polished off the nobs on the door and sink.

You're a fucking tramp for even THINKING that shit.

-Last but not least,
with my bare hands i scrubbed my face then rinsed
out a rag of cloth that, for unknown reason to me,
is reffered to as the 'piss rag'.

I used to pay a dude to clean up.

He'd do one hell of a job too..

Now i'm on my knuckles
i can't afford that shit anymore.

Despite me wanting to
have a dude clean my cell who..

Rumour has it..

Got busted in a barrel upto his neck in coccaine..

an was so fucking high he almost DIED..

I ain't ballin' like that no more.

So i clean it myself.


An you know what?

I actually enjoy it..

When i was in the town..

Before things went ultra tits-up..

There was a time when i didn't have JACK shit.




Looking back..

These are the times that i  miss the most.


Because I had so little..

The things i DID have..

I appreciated them.

That is until..



Now that i'm back to the basics..

Have i learnt my lesson?

Although i am now again in posession of very little..

Whenever i make it back to the town..

Will i still appreciate the small things in life?

Or am i just talking slick because i fucked it all up
and am now trying to cover my tracks by making it
all seem like some kind of cosmic life lesson?


We shall see.

Monday, 15 October 2012


On August 16th 2012
Timothy Ozer Guvercin (that would be me) plead guilty
to one count of conspiracy to commit bank fraud
and one count of aggravated identity theft.

Under the Federal sentencing guidelines,
that leaves me with a 'recommended guideline range'
of 37-41 months plus a mandatory two years for the
aggravated identity theft charge.

I should be getting sentenced in the next 90 days or so,
and am now in the process of collecting character references.

I could be sentenced to anywhere between time served and
seven years so character references will play a BIG part in
whatever sentence i am given.

If you are a friend of mine, someone i have spent time with
or you have simply been following my story over the past two
years and found something positive or inspiring in my words,
please, it would mean the world to me if you took the time to
write a letter to the address below,

saying a little bit about yourself, what type of person you think i am
and why further incarceration for me is not necessary.

I'm getting sentenced around November so you
have up until the beginning of November to send them in..

Each and every letter will make a difference,
and i want you to know your support and prayers
are more than appreciated!!

Timothy Ozer Guvercin


The Honorable Judge Sweet
500 Pearl Street
New York, NY

Sunday, 14 October 2012

Round three

I had initially planned on fasting today..

As i woke up to the wonderful sensation of having flames
lit behind my eyeballs and a cheese grater in the back
of my throat..

Coupled with white hot molten shit leaking out my pink asshole..

It was not to be!!

Perhaps in a paralel universe..

There is another Timothy Ozer Guvercin.

He IS fasting..

An he probably went up to the roof today with everyone else..

He might be running..

Or doing pushups..


Or any of the retarded things i do to
kill time in here on a daily basis..

This one is not engaging in physical exercise though.

He's sitting at a table.


Positioned under a light that keeps flickering
on and off in a very dramatic fashion..

Slowly stirring a big bowl of oatmeal..

Indiscriminantly scattered across the table
are tissue-like remnants of an apple that got
butchered earlier this today.

An now the table is mad sticky.

Which is not very welcoming!!

But i guess that's not a bad thing sometimes..


Actually that's bollocks.

There is no good points about someone leaving a load
of crap on a table thats meant for everybody..

I'm just being lazy.

An that was my attempt at coming up with some
kind of mystical reasoning for why i didn't clean the
table earlier.

Nevermind eh..

Ok so today is going to be spent looking after myself..

-Lots of food

-Hot drinks

-Knocking one out

-A hot shower

-Getting a haircut

Seems like a good place to start would be making
a cup of coffee..

This is the LAST of my coffee.

I been saving this shit for a special occasion..

It ain't even enough for a whole cup.

I know..

Im'a cut it with some hot chocolate..

Couple scoops of coffee creamer..



With Turkish paws wrapped around
a heavily stained plastic mug of garbage..

It's time to try relax.

Lemme see what's poppin' outside the window..


It's nice out.

REAL nice..

Powdered blue sky..

Sun is shining..

Lots of females walking around..

"Yo are those boots that go upto a bitches
(two years in prison) knees called long boots or high boots?"

"They're called hooker boots."


The window isn't going to plan today.

Perhaps i should stare at the trusty ceiling instead..

What do i see?


My view may or may not be of an ever expanding collage
of graffiti and females that possibly have or have not
been stuck up there with a small toothbrush and many
dollops of green budget toothpaste..

I think the sun is starting to cook the paste.

Strange spots are forming all over the place.

It's making all the females look either like they've
caught the clap or are turning into zombies..

I've never seen or heard of a porno where
they dress the chicks up as zombies.


And on that note..

Wednesday, 10 October 2012

Now i know why you cry..

I was about to start writing about how things
have been plodding on the last week or so..

Then i clocked it.

This fucking TRAMP never flushed the toilet..


It's DISgusting..

I just looked down an clock this
nasty-ass paper pyramid rising out
the toilet bowl..

With a mint-choc-chip green chunk of shit on top.

"Tonight's the NIGHT!! Like Betty White!! An um CHILLIN'!!"

He's refusing to flush the toilet.

Unless i 'ask him nicely'.


Considering MY version of asking nicely
had included the words FUCKING TRAMP and PURE CHUMP..

He's made it clear that he's not
going to flush the toilet now..

No matter how loudly i exhale and
hurl tramp-laced profanities at him..

This is SO fucked up..

I didn't make it!!

Yet i'm the one that's gotta deal with this BULL shit!!



What are my options..


"Better than a meaningles story of a thousand words,
is a single word of deep meaning which, when heard,
produces peace" - From the Dhammapada (Sayings of the Buddha)

Friday, 5 October 2012

thursday 4th October remember this date

Ignoring my ego when making decisions
is extremely important.

The never ending tap on the shoulder..

It tells me i should react NOW!!


That type of thing.


It's best to take my time
and think things through.

I know in the long run i will have a better outcome!!

It's all about patience..

Having the discipline NOT to react to my ego's
constant cravings for instant satisfaction.

Whether it's the urge to tell someone
some information that i feel they are ignoring..

Or would make me look like i am 'in the right'..

Physically reacting..

I mean these are all examples based on
a NEGATIVE stimulant i should add..

Someone trying to pull a reaction out of me,
coupled with my brain/ego's need to be percieved
as the winner..

it's always in my best interest to fall back.

I know this.

To take my time..

Think things through..

After all..

An emotional reaction to a situation..

Is never an intelligent one.



Life doesn't always pan out quite like i'd hope.

People are not perfect..

ESPECIALLY those incarcerated!!

Mistakes have and will be made..


But it's LEARNING from those mistakes that's key in
preventing further complications in my pursuit
of a happy and peaceful existence..

I can't learn ANYthing when i'm pissed..

I mean..

Imagine being at school.

What's the chances you are gonna' give a flying fuck
about what the teacher is spraying blams about if
you're sitting there brewing like a motherfucker?






Because you're pre-occupied with the emotion at hand.

Judgement becomes clouded..


Cave man mode.


So right now..

Even though my PATHETICALLY weak brain is biblically
screaming at me to react..

To 'do something right now'..

All for the purpose of satisfying my ego's
need to be deemed as being 'in the right'..


I think im'a just fall back.

Allow my mind some time to settle..

A bit of breathing space.


Before i forget..

Instantly reacting to an externals behaviour,
it usually gives the impression that person has
some kind of control over you..

That they can dictate your mood..

Your state of mind..

Your behaviour..

It gives the impression that
others have power over you.



is not a good look.