N-N-N-N-Nineteen Nineteen

12 Mar

“Last Call for Methanol!” So Poetic.

But more a tragic reminder of the state of the prison system and much of its inhabitants. That and the correct term should be Methadone. A beacon of light in the property box inspection saga, a Mr Quigley, true to his word takes me down to check my belongings and hopefully retrieve my radio plug.

One issue replaces another. My radio plug adaptor is deemed contraband. It could be used to charge a phone. That is if it’s modified first, with no little amount of wiring knowledge. It’s listed as a phone charger. I inform them:

“As foolish as you might think me for being in prison, I do have sufficient intellect to appreciate that packing a phone charger was possibly a flawed strategy.”

I think my point was missed – it’s hardly something you decide to pack for sentencing!

The fact that I don’t have a phone, counts for nothing, nor that a stripped down tv or kettle flex could achieve the same effect. I learn an alternative power source method, later from an experienced hand. I don’t trust my chances with live wires, besides I don’t even have dead batteries.

(If you pin the live and neutral wires between the terminals using some dead batteries to form a circuit, you have yourself a makeshift adapter.)

George suggests that maybe they should ban biros too. There’s the very real prospect of them being emptied and used to snort something. 🙂

Perhaps they could ban education in case it teaches you to challenge the lunacy of some of the policies and their inexplicable application.

Cake or Fruit

Today’s been a funny day. “Cake or Fruit?” That’s been my cry to the zombies who pass by my station in the Servery. It seems I misjudged the IQ of some of the ‘Methadonians’ (As the SO compassionately calls them)


This is not an appropriate answer to a multiple choice question.

The usual argy bargy ensues over the quantity of salt sachets. I foolishly opt for the fisherman’s pie, when it seems the fisherman is on holiday today. It’s potato heavy, my decision to accompany with mash was ill-judged, but I’ve made worse decisions in life. Never fear, the worker’s curry food boat saves the day.

Food Boat

This is where numerous inmates chip in with different items of food to make one larger communal meal.

E Wing Food Boat

This is napalm from a kettle.

Daz and Shah get to work in the kitchen, with no ovens available it’s all made with microwave and kettles. At the moment, we are going through one a day.Kettles that is.

I feel a sense of pride that my chopped tomatoes are an integral part of this masterpiece. Meanwhile the tower of festering charred kettles are clambering out of a bin hidden from the view of the screws.Its nice to have food prepared in front of you by people you can trust – relative to your environment 🙂

I hear today that Wandsworth’s Onslow wing for sex offenders, is fitted with Sky. The wing holds VP’s too, these are Vulnerable Prisoners. While other’s debated the luxury of Sky TV, I smile to myself of the field day the newspaper’s would have on this titbit.

I can’t help but think how pathetic and inconsequential one’s life must be, if being locked in a small room with a few extra tv channels as your only stimulus is considered a life of Riley, a luxury. Nonsense, walk a day in my shoes and see how fulfilled you are with Babestation and the Disney Channel. Sky or No Sky, I just want to hear my girlfriend’s soft voice or hold her face against mine. I know what you lose in coming to prison and no amount of re-runs, cartoons or movies will bridge that gap.


One Response to “N-N-N-N-Nineteen Nineteen”

  1. Jackie March 13, 2012 at 9:56 pm #

    Love reading your blog! So interesting.

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