ROOFROOFROOFROOFROOF

It's been a few months since i've been outside.

 The air that comes out of the vents is certainly NOT fresh or clean..
On certain days, one can smell haze or snouts that've been bunned somewhere
else in the buildi9ng, the vents just spread it around instead of actually giving you
clean air..it's real dry, especially when you're catting,
Trust!

 Anyhow,
this stale, dirty shit i am forced to breath in has left me feeling
pretty nasty and unhealthy..
 It might wise for me to get some fresh air today..

 Recreation,
or 'rec' is held on the roof..
 Because of this,
when it's time to go, the guard just shouts 'roof'..
 This simple act sends my fellow moronic inmates
into a spasticated frenzy,
everyone runs around the unit shouting
"ROOF! ROOF! ROOF! ROOF!"
 like a pack of ultra spasticated dogs with the
mental age of a sperm.

..I throw some warm garms on,
and brew a very large cup of coffee to keep me company.

Everyone lines up at the door to leave,
there is actually a technique to this!
 Basically,
you want to be the last person in the elevator, that way you
are the first person out..
 There are jackets for the inmates to floss on the roof..
..eight jackets..
 They're a shade of brown akin to a tramps shit stained,
crusty Y-fronts. These scat jackets are falling apart, flea
bitten and all of them have the musty aroma of an old mans
shitty nappy.

..But, they're warm.

 I'm lucky enough to score one of these vintage Armani
shit stained overcoats! Result!

 It's a beautiful day outside.
To be frank, any day outside for me is a fucking blessing.

I havn't been in direct sunlight in a good two months.

The closest thing to fresh air i have,
is in the little secretions that sneak through the cracks
in the window of my cell,
 I can only feel them by sticking my fingers through the bars,
even then, it is only my fingers that are lucky enough to be kissed
by the cold, clean air outside..

 Standing on this Manhatton rooftop,
I can feel the warmth of the sun on my skin..

 Every slow,
deep breath that i inhale,
i can feel every trace of the cool crisp fresh air
filling every part of my lungs with life..

..It feels good.

 Over the high walls,
barbed wire fences and security cameras,
I can make out the top of sky scrapers, there are birds
flying (lucky cunts) and the sun is shining..

 This little taste of the world is certainly appreciated..

 People are working out,
warming up to play basketball, sitting down on benches chilling or
pacing the roof whispering to each other in a stereotypical prison fashion..

..Not me though.

 I'm sitting on my jaes,
both of my Turkish paws firmly clasped to my cup of coffee,
transfixed on the steam rising from my ultra sugary beverage..

..Chilling..

 I clock a couple guys i am cool with slumped in the corner
of the court busting freestyles, so i skank over to see what
the fuck they're spraying..

 Each of them is 'wearing' a beanie hat, perched on the side
of their heads at gravity defying angles..
 I'm told they don't fall off, firstly, because they're 'ill n****rs',
and secondly because they have on du-rags underneath..

Their next twenty minutes is spent trying to get me to wear one..
..which, unfortunately for me, catches the attention of all the dudes
warming up to play ball. I am now surrounded.
 There are around twenty people all standing around me, each one
putting their two cents in trying to get me to floss one..

"Thas all you need Timdog, you's down with the brothers kid,
you'd be a VICIOUS Turkish n****r in a du-rag!"

 I. am. not. wearing. a. du-rag..

...Lau dat!

Anyhow,
it's gametime..

 Closelines,
elbowdrops and eye jammies are standard manouvres
on this Manhatton rooftop,
but todays game is more violent that usual..

..one of the inmates is lucky enough
to need urgent medical attention and is sent to hospital.

 Basically (your basic),
one of the smaller players jumps to make a shot and
gets swatted out of the way..In doing so,
finds himself flying at high velocity into a metal bench.
 These benches have plastic covers on the corners,
but for some unknown reason that i'm sure i'll find out about
sooner or later, people steal them.
 The gentlemans calf muscle makes direct contact with the sharp
metal corner, splitting it open..meat, tendons and blood all over
the fucking gaff..Poor sod..

..Still..