Tuesday, March 17

plan didn't go to plan...

in order to combat the inscrutable Wiggins and his hated 3am wake up calls, I decided to smash every single bulb and fluorescent in both my cell, and the hallway adjacent. Apparently this inevitability was planned for, because security came up here right fucking quick and chucked me in the brig.

but.. at least the sun didn't rise at 3am... prisoners get up at 9am. finally, a lie-in.

1 comment:

  1. This is excellent. A cross between Patrick Bateman and Gully Goyle!


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