Today I have a guest post (read: I’m SO LAZY) from Sister Merry Hellish over at “Inside Out and Backwards” which, honestly, sounds less like the title of a blog and more like something I’ll make you do naked once you are sufficiently inebriated.
Depends on how kinky you like it.
Living with ADD is like having something shiny dangling in your brain that you can’t look away from. Not a disco ball or anything, although how awesome would that be?! A disco ball and a monkey in a white, Elvis jumpsuit spinnin’ something that goes “oonce oonce oonce oonce” in the DJ booth! No, that can’t be right because yesterday I woke up singing the theme from “I Dream of Jeanie” and that doesn’t go “oonce oonce oonce oonce” at all and…
Where was I? Oh right.
Attention Deficit Disorder.
Then, 8 years later, I was pulled over again for the same damn thing, only this time there was a warrant out for my arrest because I hadn’t stapled the first ticket to my forehead and “failed to appear in court.” (insert ‘air quotes’ here for best effect)
So, courtesy of ADD, my need to get this shame out into the open and Moooooog35 being a lazy ass, I bring you some lessons and observations my from one-night stay in the county lockup!
Hey! *snap, snap* Pay attention!
1) Mentioning you’re worried about your three-year-old dog who’s home alone to the disenchanted cop taking your fingerprints will prompt the completely unconcerned response “We’ll have someone go by the house and check on your DAUGHTER.”
Really? If you’re wondering why your request to transfer to Social Services was denied after you totally nailed the interview it’s because upon hearing a 3-year-old is roaming around unattended and probably shotgunning a jug of bleach you should be horrified, have someone immediately go get her and charge me with child endangerment, you incredible jack-wagon!
Screaming “It’s MY house! I’m not trespassing if it’s MY house! He’s in there with that whore! Let me go! I’ve got to get that whore out of my house!” like a banshee will get you your own cell and dropped to the bottom of the processing list.
3) Constipated? Per the group of prostitutes who had been eating cheese sandwiches and corn for over a week the cure is a hamburger from McDonald’s. No joke. It was at least a 30 minute conversation. They all agreed.
4) After bending over and coughing while standing in a semi-circle with nine other naked women during the strip search, the rest of us (horrified and suppressing the urge to laugh) watched the exchange between one of the guards and a short, round Hispanic woman who was still bent over holding the cheeks of her ass apart. Every time the guard yelled “I don’t need to see that! I need to see your VA-GI-NA!” the woman, who clearly didn’t understand English, would spread her cheeks farther apart and cough until the yelling started again. They finally brought in an interpreter before she split herself in half.
5) When told that the ladies with “an extra belly” needed to hold it up and I went to oblige, the guard looked at me and said “Oh, not you honey.” I have never been more flattered in my entire life.
7) Losing your appetite and giving all your food to the old hooker with 2 teeth and 6 months left on her sentence will earn you the top bunk, a lesson on how to fold your mattress so you kind of have a pillow and a shaky, wrinkled hand moving up your leg in the middle of the night.
8) The lovebirds having their morning shower together in one stall will drive home the fact that prison sex will forever be misrepresented by the porn industry until someone from the “People of Wal-Mart” site decides to make one.
And for Moooooog35 it’s a lesson on being careful what you wish for.
As for me, I’m getting out of here. Everything’s sticky, there’s hamster poo stuck to the wall and for reasons I can’t explain, I feel sexually harrassed!
*oonce oonce oonce oonce*
Now go visit her over at “Inside Out and Backwards” and maybe bring tequila because that shit tends to hurt if you don’t do it properly.
If you’d like to guest post, shoot me an email at: