an dont call me shirley

 Someone gave me some amusing advice today..

 He told me that i should think of my time in this facility like i am on a plane.
I didn't understand at first, so over a cup of tea he explained what he meant..

 "When you are on the plane,
chances are you are eventually going to get to your destination.
Ok, you might crash, the plane could explode, but fuck it! You are already
on the plane now! It's taken off, you might as well enjoy the ride and relax,
otherwise it will feel like a much longer flight.."

 Nice :)

manscaping

 Being of English and Turkish descent has its good and bad points.
Mostly good points, I'm a meditaranian man, and proud of it.
 But being blessed with all things meditaranian, also means
i'm a hairy guy..It's all part of being a man, but there are
some places that need to be..Regulated

 When on road,
i kept myself trimmed. You have to.
 As much as your lady wants to make her man happs,
no self respecting woman wants a mouthful of tropical pubic hair. Fact.
 It's just common courtesy for a Turkish man like myself to keep shit at bay,
with from time to time, a little manscaping.

 Upon arrival at my own personal MOTHER FUCKING PERGATORY,
having most things violently snatched from me, i view a lot of everyday items
as luxuries...scissors being one of them..

 Obviously there is no female company in here...other than the occasional 3/10 guard,
which i'm STILL working on :D
 With the lack of female company, and the realisation that bar getting jerked off while
on a visit (which is common practice, fascilitated by a crudely wripped hole in ones jumpsuit),
i ain't getting any for a while, my focus definitely strayed from my appearance, for a hot minute..

 I grew a fucking HENCH beard, stopped eating, and was slowly turning into a wreck of a man..
Timothy Guvercin was becoming ever more distant by the day..

 Through the love and support of my family and a few freinds, and my cellie, i started to fix up.
After getting my hair cut, mans was working out, daily.
 It payed off, I got into the best shape i've been in since i was a teenager..
One day after a shitload of pushups, i'm just about to have a shower and i hear
"GAD DAMN! Dog you're puttin' the work in, but you look like a fucking caveman!"
He was right..

 Months in federal prison with no scissors had left me looking like a neanderthal,
and something had to be done..
 With nothing else at my disposal, i had no other choice..
I shaved under my armpits..
..Possibly THE least macho thing i have ever done in my life..
and now has turned into a weekly nesecity..if anyone has any tips for shaving rash,
please let me know!!!

 As for the Other over grown hair on my body, that's a different story altogether..
 Firstly, i thought i could just boy it off..let's be realistic, my sujuk
is taking a rest from the spotlight for now, on a reclusive tip..it ain't getting any imediate attention
apart from Madame Palm and her five daughters.
 So who cares if things get a little Conan for now right?
Wrong.

 It's hard to be admire/be proud of your new Jean Claude van Damage physique when confronted
by a tropical jungle of pubes below..It ain't the look.
 So it was time for Timmyboy to get inventive..as there is no fucking way
that i am shaving my cock and balls. Not happening. Fuck that.

 So...
Man's took a disposable razor, snapped off the plastic guarding around the blade..turning it into a
VERY VERY sharp handheld razor..With a little careful wrapping of toilet tissue and celetape that i'd
saved off the packaging from a graff book someone sent me (safe Josh!), it was safe enough to be
allowed near my Johnson..
 After a couple minutes of hacking away at this tropical Forest that had crept into my prison pants,
my stir crazy penis is now sporting a very handsome new haircut, just like this :D

deep cover

The weather at the moment is cold. Fucking Cold.
 Up until recently, my cell was nice and toast..thanks
to morbid flatulence, and the heat coming in from the vent..
 No more.
Well, sadly, the flatulence is still in full effect..but the heating has stopped.
..It..Is..Cold!..

 Common knowledge, it's wise to get out of bed early in the morning in here,
but when you don't own a sweatshirt or multiple layers of clothing, your bed
is the warmest thing you've got!
 Once up and about, you warm up pretty quickly..But the first inital step
out of bed in the morning is a motherfucker!! Trust!

 In a typically turkish/English fashion, i have been relying on multiple cups
of tea to keep me warm..everytime my cup is almost, mans reloads the shit quick fast..
 My toes are so cold, i've had to wrap them in three pairs of socks as standard..

 On one of my trips to the microwave to warm up my chai, i overhear someone complaing
that 'all the youngsters have no respect for the microwave' and that 'they leave it looking
like someone exploded a colostomy bag inside' Which i find highly amusing :D
..But then out of nowhere, this new, elderly southern gentleman joins in on the conversation..
"When i was in Louisiana, someone put a turtle in the microwave"
..Everyone pauses..
"Yeh, it was a live turtle..some jokester found it in the yard and put it in the microwave,
blew the whole microwave up..but that turtle meat sure did taste good! he he..i used to
catch them and cook them.."
 A lot of people are in here for pyshiatric evaluation..I'm guessing he's one of them...

 Nightfalls..the coldest part of my waking life in the jail..
The few elite members of the jail are lucky enough to be keeping themselves warm
with dirty lungs..alas we ain't all that privelidged!
 I got my shorts, sweatpants, long sleeve tshirt, jumpsuit and beanie hat on..
..Plus i have my blanket wrapped around my neck like some neeeext rowdy scarf..
 My cellie is well versed in what to do in sub-zero jail conditions..
"N****r, i'm goin deep cover!"
 He ain't joking..
Man's is lying under four blankets, wearing two sweatshirts, smiling with a towel wrapped
around his head..farting consequtively..
 Shortly before going 'deep cover', i made us some tuna, jalapeno and mayonaise sandwhiches..
I usually don't eat jalapenos, but i thought it might warm me up a bit..
..Plus all the ingredients had none of my input in 'collecting', so who am i
to start getting picky?

 The peppers, however, seem to have had a negative effect
on my compardre..
"Motherfuckin jalapenos already starting to fly out my asshole kid"
:(
"DAMN! Had to check..thought my cheeks were caked..i'm good though dog"
 Glad to hear!
I mean, no one wants to hear that their buddy has just shit their pants..he seems
very sure that he hasn't, to the point that he feels the need to explain, in minute detail,
why he knew he hadn't shat himself..
 The short version, he felt the fart leave his asshole, pass between his butt cheeks,
then stop at his briefs..so how does he know for sure he hasn't fouled himself?
 "If you pull your butt cheeks apart, you can tell if you've shit your pants. I know all the tricks kid :D"

 So..off he goes to sleep,
nice and warm, surrounded by a cloud of shit matter..I on the other hand am far too cold
to succumb to sleep so easily...

 I have taken to listening to hawain hula music, it makes me think of hot girls in grass skirts,
on the beach..to prevent this peaceful image from turning into masterbation material,
i'm reading a very interesting book by David Icke..
..It's all about how an inter-dimensional, shapeshifting, reptialian race has been controlling
the world for thousands of years, and still is. True story too :)

 A few hours pass..I'm beginning to feel sleepy,
or at least acknowledge that i SHOULD be asleep by now..Despite the best
efforts of David Icke to keep me awake, it's time to climb onto my cold,
lonely, uncomfortable rock hard matt/'bed' and get some rest..after all,
tomorrow i have another day of being in jail to look forward to :(
..Out of the corner of my eye, i spot something..
 Cheeky little bastard!! Right in front of me, bold as brass,
i clock this little, big balled mouse! As soon as he knows that i know that he knows,
he scarpers behind my cellies bed...

 Fuck. FUCK.
Two choices. Either i wake up, and tell my cellie..which means all hell will  break loose,
an the next few hours will be spent re-enacting a tom n jerry cartoon..ultimately leading
to an extremely gruesome death for topo gigio..

 Or i pretend i saw nothing, follow the G code, brush my teeth and attempt to fart myself to sleep..

What would you have done?

Hes hip

Everybody in here thinks they have bars.
They don't. They can't spit, their 'bars' are fucking lame, they try to rhyme 'shit' with 'shit',not in a cool grime way, in a i'm too stupid to think of anything that can rhyme way..Each day that goes past when i hear someone disrespecting my ears with their jacobs crackers lyrics, i'm getting closer and closer to just busting some D Double bars just for the sake of it..
OOOoH! OOOOoh!

 Some people are jokes though. They know they can't actually spit, but do so purely for the fuckie, u get me..
One of these Bozerinos comes upto me yesterday while i'm waiting to access the dusty fartbox they call a computer..
 "CHEERIO TIMMYBOY!"
I'm unimpressed. Most people's attempts at English accents sound like a cross between Australian and someone who is
mid way through having a stroke..
 "CAN I BUY A TUNA PATTIE OFF YOU FELLA FOR 200 EUROS"
Still unimpressed.
 "we don't use euros mate."
This leaves him in a state of confusion, despite me explaining that we use pounds not euros, and you can't use dollars
in England, i end up having to abandon the subject before this guy has a hernia from thinking too much with his prostate-like brain..a couple minutes later, he runs upto me with his radio on..
"Yo..Yo...check this out"
..and proceeds to spit bar to bar every word of the song below..i was impressed! But after a while it kind of got embaressing as a big crowd formed around us, and then whenever the scratching parts came in he would pretend to scratch using my tshirt..in all fairness, dude wasn't too bad!

 It gets later in the evening, and i go chill with some of the card playing motherfuckers..
I don't usually play, i just sit there to catch jokes and observe what is happening on the unit..you find out about
things that are going down, and just general stupid fuckries..
 People usually look at me as someone to confirm 'facts' about people who are sitting at the card table..things along the lines of "What is he Timmyboy? Tell him. TELL HIM!" but i never tell them. I'm not calling anyone a 'bum ass n*****r'. If i did i can just imagine an alarm going off, and me getting smacked until i exploded like a human pinada..
 Another example is when people are playing casino, this happens the most..someone, usually someone fucking HENCH, will start screaming at me..only me..
"TELL HIM WHAT A REAL N****R KEEP TIMMYBOY, TELL HIM! TELL HIM WHAT A REAL N****R KEEP BLUE EYES!"
i sheepishly reply...
"a 9?"
"DAMN MOTHERFUCKING RIGHT, A REAL N****R ALWAYS KEEP A MOTHERFUCKING 9"
Then slams the 9 down on the table so hard the ground shakes...
 
 I know how to act though. I'm learning.
I get there and someone asks me if i have any granola bars..i do, but i know that me and my cellie are gonna rinse them down in the next few days, so i kindly decline, using the monicker "nah man this is my last one"
..the guy i say this to is huge...and looks like not only does he not believe me, but he's extremely disapointed in me for lying about it..
 I feel bad.
"Lemme go and check :D "
I go and get him one. He doesn't say thankyou. In fact, he swipes it out of my hand with great velocity..
 My cellie and his partners are playing poker at the opposite table, one of them cells over
"Yo timmy, be careful over there with them dirty no good n****rs"

 The Granola guy replies
"HE'S BEING CAREFUL, THIS MOTHERFUCKER JUST TOLD ME HE DIDN'T HAVE NO MORE GRANOLAS LEST!"

 Sha turns around with a big smile on his face..
"He's learning..Turkish n****rs gettin' hip to ALL that shit"
:D

longness

The cell is cold tonight. It ain't usually.
Whenever anyone pops into the cell to say hello or borrow
some coffee, they usually bark things along the lines of
"Man, it's nice up in this bitch!"
 Which is usually replied to with a swift
"Don't get comfy n****r"
 For real though,
Most peoples cells are mad cold, and give give off a vibe
that you're in some kind of next grimey Russian jail, purely
cold and depressing!
 It might sounds ludicrously retarded,
but our cell is pretty inviting!
 We keep it mad clean, got some Peruvian chiropractor dude to
put up some shelves an shit, and it's usually pretty warm..Plus due
to the vomit inducing aromas that waft out of the inhabitants assholes,
out of nessecity, mans has had to invest in an air freshner! They don't sell
air freshners though, it's a nasal spray that has had the vicks shit poured out,
and a mix of water and 'muslim oil' put in there..it smells like a fucking meadow!
 It gets RINSED..leaving the 'toilet' that we are forced to dwell in smelling
rather spiffing :D
 For whatever reason, tonight it's pretty chilly up in here...
Coffee and a long sleeve thermal tshirt are keeping the chills at bay for now,
and i'm rocking my (huge) beanie hat for extra warmtheridge..it's massive,
and people say i look like 'an English cat burglar' when i rock it..I tell them
to keep their fucking voices down as the walls have ears, and i have
enough charges as it is :(
 Earlier tonight i had a fucking DEEEP meal..
No, it wasn't the usual jailhouse toilet made slop they give us, i
wouldn't feed that shit to a dead dog..
 One of my cellies freinds put me in their 'whip'..That means you are
eating with them! It was spicy tuna with rice, vegetables and macaroni n cheese!
BOSS!
 Collecting it was rather amusing..the look on most of the other inmates faces..
I mean, this young kid from London..who has somehow managed to get safe with
all the scariest, grimyest cats in the unit..AND they all have his back..AND on top
of that, he now has them cooking his meals :D
 As i'm writing this, its coming upto midnight..
It's a Tuesday, and my favorite radio set 'the night train' is on at
just past one, mans just gotta waste the next hour..which is very easy..i've been
spending more and more time staring out the window (it's more a glorified porthole) recently..

..There is a lamp post over the road from my cell window, and i find the light
from it captivating. I'm not sure if it's supposed to be that colour, or just turned that
way from years of use, but the lamp has a piercing golden glow about it..the trees
around it are bare of leaves and look like they have been lightly dusted with coccaine,
it's a very serene image to stare at..compared to the ugly, depressing visuals that are
forced upon my eyeballs inside this shithole..
 I imagine myself one day standing under this lamp,
Looking back up at this cell..breathing clean air, wearing my own clothes and trainers,
thanking god for giving me another chance at life, at my dream.
 I feel i deserve another chance.
I'm not a bad guy. Far from it. I just lost focus on my life,
and what i should be doing with it.
 Perhaps he will give me a break and through this 'turkish n****r" a
bone..i just have a lot more praying to do i guess..
Here's hoping.

You know he's crip right

I arise from my slumber.
The last thing i recall doing is being in a super swanky hotel room,
sucking on Lindsay Lohans nipples..But she is nowhere to be seen,
and the hotel suite i was making extremely good use of now doesn't
seem so swish as ten minutes ago..
 Seen. Back to reality.

 Nevermind, time to get up..

 I hear shouting, cursing, and the familiar line
"all you n****rs is BUMS" screamed from outside the cell..
 It can only be the sophisticated genlteman at the neighbourhood card table!

 "Yo timmyboy, while you was in dreamland, i been skunkin this n****r all
mother fuckin' mornin"

 I can't help laughing all the time in here, if i didn't laugh i'd probably be
hanging from a noose, so i'm lucky that in MCC it's joketime 24/7..

"That's all you do Timmyboy, always laughin..all i ever hear from you is
'woo-woo-woo' an 'kee-kee-kee'"

..This just makes me laugh even more..

"Look at this fuckin' Turkish n****r, always 'woo-woo-woo'in', bet you
ain't gonna be laughin when they send you to that compound with
all the scary n****rs!"

:(
I stop laughing.

"Especially when they find out Timmy's a crip! Look at his hand!"
..The whole unit goes silent..

"Show them your fingers :D "

..For many years now, i've been hitting up my crew B6K. It initially was a collective of kids
putting on punk and hardcore shows in and around London and Guildford, back in England in
the early 2000's..There's a few people around the world hitting it up in one shape or form..
 Anyway, i took it upon myself to get each letter tattood on the side of my fingers, midway
through 2010..Perhaps it wasn't the smartest of choices, but it looked good, and at the time
i was high on drugs, blowjobs, and generally didn't have my best thinking cap on for the majority
of the year..Hence now writing a blog from prison! :D

 Since coming into jail, someone informed me that most of the gang members that are
in here are 'Bloods'.
 Didn't think anything of it..Until one of my freinds saw my B6K tattoo, and explained to me
that BK stands for BLOOD KILLER, a Crip gang, and a 6 is the Crips sign.
Great!

 I spend the next twenty minutes,
that feels like two hours, explaining to around fifteen hench dudes, many that are
Bloods, that i had no idea about the Crips, what B6K meant, and was not a member
of any kind of Crips chapter..A tense silence follows..

..Everyone starts laughing!
"We's only fuckin with you timmyboy, if we thought you was Crip,
my man (points at large violent looking individual) would've hit
you in the face with a banger, straight up"
 A banger is a knife.

"Yo, Timmboy's a straight Blood, look, he got a red beard an everything!"
 People are falling around laughing at the super pranged out Englishman..While
everyone is laughing i take the opportunity to adjust my shorts, so the chocolate
pudding that was just delivered red hot into my pants doesn't spill out onto the floor..
"Yo, you know we gotta jump you in now Mickey blue eyes?"