Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Poo-poo-ing Prison Style.

It is clearly no secret that when it comes to dealing with bodily functions – I’d rather shove an elephant in my ear. I never used to have an aversion to all things beginning with a P (mainly puke and poopoo). I could clean up puke and wipe butts with the best of them. Never flinching. Never gagging. I was a warrior I swear.

But now? Um, not so much.

Today, though, in regards to things that start with the letter P - I’d like to just say that I could never be in prison. Yes, there are a million other reasons I would like not to be in prison but there is one in particular that has come to my attention.

This sums it up:

Rambo is evil. He thinks things are funny because of that thing between his legs, but he is evil. Pure and simple with a capital E.

Let me explain.

Rambo used to work in only seg units at the prison. That means he worked with prisoners who are the worst in the state and therefore live in their tiny cells 23 hours a day. There isn’t a lot of communication with those kinds of prisoners – unless you count pouncing on them during a cell entry in full riot gear. The guards are in fact told they are not allowed to form relationships with these prisoners. Some are such impressive con men that some prisoners cannot be spoken to without at least two people present.

There is safety for Rambo in a seg unit for the most part but it’s not his favorite place to be assigned to. Idiot.

Recently, his prison has toyed with and become part general population (GP). Yup, you know what that means. Inmates milling about – out of their cells – all around Rambo. He loves it.

Stupid much? Like danger much? Like dangling your life in front of people with nothing to lose? Jesus frick.

Anywhoozle, I think Rambo likes GP because he can be social. He can talk to the inmates. Hell, he can carry on decent conversations with these people. They talk politics and life and rules and regs and they laugh. He always says to me, “We all have to be there for a certain time every day…we might as well laugh and make the best of it.”

I suppose. Or not.

So yes, there are lots of practical jokes and such…as men are prone to do. One part of me is glad about this. It makes all of their days go faster. It makes it a little less miserable. The rapport actually makes the inmates respect Rambo because he doesn’t treat them like dirt. He treats them like humans with basic rights – regardless of their crimes. (the crimes in GP aren’t as bad as the ones in seg so they are easier to “overlook”)

But I’m rational and I know that whatever respect they feel for Rambo would be gone in one second if a fight broke out or a shank was pulled or a riot started. I’m not stupid. I don’t host a penis in my pants.

Okay – back to the story. The inmates were out in the yard having rec time. Rambo was on duty. A prisoner who gets along well with Rambo asked Rambo to open the gate to let him back in the prison because he needed to use the bathroom.

Rambo said, “Do you want me to leave it open so you can come back out?”

Inmate replied, “Nope, you better close it. I think it might be a while.”

Ack. Nice. Boys are just inherently gross.

Rambo decides to get on the intercom of this guy’s cell and say, “Hey….do you need some encouragement? I can cheer you on. Go, go, go. Push it out, way out. Get mad at the turd. Ugghhhh.” And on and on.

You get the picture. Two other inmates are nearly hyperventilating from laughing so hard.

Then another guard decides to force flush this guy’s toilet.

The inmate – being a man – thinks this is funny and yells, “You @ssholes!”

The other two inmates now are almost on the floor dying laughing. They’ve never seen anything so funny.

*sigh* Really? Is this my life?

The whole time I’m hearing this story I’m thinking – do I laugh or do I cry? We’re talking about poop here. And force flushing. And cheerleading turds.

I can’t take it.

I find myself defending a prisoner I don’t even know. I tell Rambo, “You’re evil. That is a terrible thing to do. I can’t even imagine someone knowing I’m doing that and then someone cheerleading me and people laughing and the toilet flushing underneath me randomly. I’m breaking out in hives thinking about it.”

Why does men + poop always = funny?

Seriously folks, when you go home and someone asks how your day was and they tell you how theirs was….listen intently and respond accordingly and be damn thankful it’s not the story above. When I ask Rambo how his day was – THIS is what I hear. And then I get to throw up in my mouth a little.

Again, I must say…I could not live in prison. Nope. Well, I could. But I’d never poop again.


On a less graphic and happier note…I’d like to say I did 110 minutes on the treadmill last night. 10 mins short of 2 hours! 966 calories!
In my warped head, as long as I did less than 2 hours, I kept myself out of the “exercise lunatic” category. It felt GREAT. I could have went on forevah! And it’s definitely good marathon training to go that long and that far.

It sucks a fat baby’s ass that even with that 110 minutes, the scale never moved. Hmm…could be all those donuts.

Today at work? Oh yes…let me tell you.

Free donuts, free movie popcorn and free cake.

Yup, this is the same place that just started a Weight Watchers at work program.

Brilliant right?

God help me.

14 comments:

Laurie said...

I don't have a P between my legs, and I think most think men are stupid, but I do laugh at poop and as long it wasn't my poot that got the cheerleading section (although that has happened in my house), I kind of think it's funny....don't go all man hating on me!
Who can be on a treadmill that long? Amazing!

Shannon said...

see I find that story hilarious! Maybe because I have alot of military background and hang out with guys mostly :P
Awesome on the working out! I think if you can run for 2hrs and enjoy it then your not a workout freak just in love with what your body will let you do :) I am going to try to start running today. I have been holding off till I got a little weight off my knees. should be fun.

Amanda said...

I've done two hours on my treadmill a few times. I've clearly crossed the line.

I feel ya on the donuts at work. I can be doing so well with my food, and then my coworkers decide they are STARVING, and suddenly snacks pop up every four inches.

And I'm weak. Yipes.

Dazee Dreamer said...

I too could never take a poop in front of others. That is why I try to keep my thieving to only taking an idea from other bloggers. Unless there is a prison for that. oh my, I see a blog post coming up.

We had free donuts today at work too. must be in the air.

Ronnie said...

Boys and poop. I'll never understand it.

L A U R A said...

My stepson laughs at just the mention of poop.

Read said...

yeah, boys and the p words - why must that thing weigh so damn much that it so badly affects their poor little brains?

LDswims said...

Poop is interesting. We crossed the line in my house years ago...it started with my mom and step-dad. Comparisons and tales. Then with my mom's colon cancer, it REALLY got personal and we had to keep laughing just because of how horrible the situation was. Now, my hubby has been brought in on it. He and his buddies get going on occasion and are surprised to learn I talk freely, too - and am probably more graphic, at times, as well.

And maybe because of the years in the Navy and boot camp style toilets...I just can't care anymore. I have to laugh!

And then there's you...Miss Rambette. You may not have the penis...but yer still crazy with 110 minutes. I love it! I love you!

Karen Butler Ogle said...

I'm very thankful that Dail doesn't work in a prison. However, anywhere there is testosterone, there are poop stories.

~Sandi @ This one time at 'band' camp... said...

Yes, unfortunately I can relate as I have a 'penis' packing husband who has 'boyz' in the Military with them!!! I hear stories like this ALL the time!!!

I, as well as yourself, do not find them funny! But he splits a gut recalling the story...lord love a duck!

Fiddle in the Band said...

I was a corrections officer for a while. I worked with kids in juvi-max, then moved into the adult corrections world. Two different beasts completely. I enjoyed adult so much more. That being said the small block of women was SO much harder than the larger over-crowded blocks of men. I worked central control with the men. Not in their blocks, more like in a fish bowl. It comes down to give respect, get respect. The longer you work with the inmates, the more you get a feel for personalities and triggers. Working GP passes time so much better than a class/max unit. Those suckers have too much time to think and plot. You are trained for any incident that may occur and you make shit up for the rest! Not that that helps a c.o.'s family not worry when they are at work, but by reading about your Rambo he seems like someone I would have wanted to be on my shift.
It helps to have someone supportive to come home to as well! Sorry for the super long comment!

Beth Ann said...

Everything I know about prisons I learned from watching Oz. It was on TV, so you know it must be true. :) I admit that I laughed as I was reading your story. I think I was laughing as much at your disgust as the story though. Ha!

Ice Queen said...

I am a twelve year old boy in the body of a 46 year old woman and I thought that story was hilarious. And I would have been howling and rolling right along with everyone, had I been there.

Yes, it is true. :P

Draz, stop feeding Sheniqua. Seriously, girlfriend. ;)

Jess said...

Damn co-workers and their frickin snack trays and cupcakes! Damn them all!

I guess I got lucky...my hubby doesn't discuss poop at all. He's a farter! UGH! Equally frickin sick!