And after many weeks of sitting around refusing to do any work whatsoever at that place called work as an act of defiance, I have reluctantly resumed publication of the inmate law books. What they don't know is that I am no longer updating it with endless blather about lethal injection and sodomy. No. Instead, the inmates will be privy to my personal memoirs and perhaps a centerfold of myself. It will not be provided free of charge this year, either. I become rich, and the blight upon their blighted lives is brightened with my riveting tales. Everyone wins.
Mayhaps I will even print the letters they've given me with my replies like Henry Rollins does. Just today, one ended with, "P.S. I WANT TO GO HOME."
Dear Sleepless in San Quentin, I responded, Yeah me too.