tales from the big house.....

  • Thread starter Thread starter JackBootedThug
  • Start date Start date
Visitation in the fed consists of getting on the inmates visitation list and then an ncic check is completed before permission is granted. Then visitors are screened. Metal detector and mass spectrometer for drugs. That’s after positive I.d. and proper forms and clothing checks. Clothes are a big deal. Then they are escorted to visitation. They are allowed a hug and a kiss but physical contact is to be kept at a minimum at all times. Any issues with visitors and they can be refused and sent away at any time. Inmates are called to visitation from inside the facility. They are checked in and visually searched. After the visit they are visually examined again and sent back to the house….nuts and butts….
 
Jesus H. Christ! Is there anything you can't find on the internet?

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I went to county jail once. I didn't shit for three days.

Because that's how long I was in, and the shitter was also the water fountain in the middle of the holding cell/tank :hys:
 
Baked Bean said:
:oops::oops::oops::oops::oops:

I've been in a 'prison' only once in my life - not a cop jail cell - for a visit. My band in the late 70s had a full-time light guy who we all were good friends with. While gigging with his next band they decided to let a groupie ride the bus with them after a show. Some time later she starts puking all over the place so they pull over and let her out.

She starts hitching and gets picked up by a Mass State Cop. Next thing you know my bud is arrested for a "rock and roll fueled gang rape on a tour bus!!!" Made the TV news and all the papers. Next thing you know it's on TV that he's been sentenced to Walpole State Prison for a significant sentence.

We kept in touch throughout most of it. The chick was wild and was doing everyone and everything on the bus. After they threw her off she was pissed and got picked up by a Statey. One dude got nailed for insertion while my bud and another guy got accessory (for each holding a leg - I shit you not). The Walpole thing was all for the press. He was transferred almost immediately to a place in Western MA that was basically a college campus surrounded by barbed wire and dudes with guns.

Me and the drummer took the long drive to see him once. The process to get in was pretty strict - my buddy gave the tiniest bit of lip and immediately was shown the door before ever seeing our bud. My visit consisted of sitting at a picnic table outside on a beautiful autumn day and catching up for 20 minutes. I think he was released after only 18 months or something like that. He hadn't had a previous record prior to the bus thing.
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Even our prisons are pleasant in Western Ma
 
#3 The ballad of swamp thing….

Swamp thing is a very interesting dude. Severe mental illness issues and from being from Cuba…probably was jailed all his life. Anyway he’s a mariel Cuban. Castro emptied out all prisons, mental institutions and basically all undesirable people and threw them on boats and sent them to the USA. When they got here most were imprisoned in the fed for life. So anyway swamp thing is more fucked up than a tree full of owls. They made him a compound orderly driving a Cadillac so everyone could watch him. My first experience with swamp thing was standing outside the chow hall while mainline was running….they planted trees on the compound and swamp thing found a birds nest with three little chicks in it. He promptly grabbed one and ate it. That’s swamp thing. That’s how he rolled. My first conversation with him was about him fucking dogs. Yes…fucking dogs…he explained that every time you fucked one, upon completion of said act, the dog would run circles around you three times and be all happy. That’s the kind of stuff swamp thing talked about. That’s how he rolled. Now if you remember I mentioned about inmates segregating themselves. In the chow hall that’s taken to an extreme. Zero race mixing at all. Some of the worst fights have been over seats in the chow hall. So imagine my surprise while standing mainline swamp thing comes through, gets his tray and walks over and sits down with three African American gentleman. They look at him strangely but after all it’s swamp thing so they give him a pass. I breathe a sigh of relief but continue watching. I notice swamp thing reach into his front shirt pocket and remove what I assume was a wad of napkins and place them on his tray. I then notice him grab a salt shaker and salt his food. Pepper also. Then he takes a bite. At this time the three Afrocentric gentlemen jump up cussing and shouting and slinging their trays. I call it on tac #1 and start running. Other staff come running inside. Ole swamp thing decided to wrap a turd in napkins, carry it to the chow hall, sit down with the aforementioned people, salt and pepper that dookie, and start eating it……..yup…turd….shit sandwich….but that’s swamp thing….that’s how he rolled…I never saw him again after that….and that’s the ballad of swamp thing. Was he crazy?…. Or was he a genius? Nobody ever fucked with him, that’s for sure….
 
As you implied, it could have been a genius strategy but I reckon one has to assume in this case that he was just plain bonkers.
 
JackBootedThug said:
#3 The ballad of swamp thing….

Swamp thing is a very interesting dude. Severe mental illness issues and from being from Cuba…probably was jailed all his life. Anyway he’s a mariel Cuban. Castro emptied out all prisons, mental institutions and basically all undesirable people and threw them on boats and sent them to the USA. When they got here most were imprisoned in the fed for life. So anyway swamp thing is more fucked up than a tree full of owls. They made him a compound orderly driving a Cadillac so everyone could watch him. My first experience with swamp thing was standing outside the chow hall while mainline was running….they planted trees on the compound and swamp thing found a birds nest with three little chicks in it. He promptly grabbed one and ate it. That’s swamp thing. That’s how he rolled. My first conversation with him was about him fucking dogs. Yes…fucking dogs…he explained that every time you fucked one, upon completion of said act, the dog would run circles around you three times and be all happy. That’s the kind of stuff swamp thing talked about. That’s how he rolled. Now if you remember I mentioned about inmates segregating themselves. In the chow hall that’s taken to an extreme. Zero race mixing at all. Some of the worst fights have been over seats in the chow hall. So imagine my surprise while standing mainline swamp thing comes through, gets his tray and walks over and sits down with three African American gentleman. They look at him strangely but after all it’s swamp thing so they give him a pass. I breathe a sigh of relief but continue watching. I notice swamp thing reach into his front shirt pocket and remove what I assume was a wad of napkins and place them on his tray. I then notice him grab a salt shaker and salt his food. Pepper also. Then he takes a bite. At this time the three Afrocentric gentlemen jump up cussing and shouting and slinging their trays. I call it on tac #1 and start running. Other staff come running inside. Ole swamp thing decided to wrap a turd in napkins, carry it to the chow hall, sit down with the aforementioned people, salt and pepper that dookie, and start eating it……..yup…turd….shit sandwich….but that’s swamp thing….that’s how he rolled…I never saw him again after that….and that’s the ballad of swamp thing. Was he crazy?…. Or was he a genius? Nobody ever fucked with him, that’s for sure….
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Moar!!
 
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