Saturday, February 28, 2009

Addicted To Pain

One of the thing we seem to be producing here in the prison is masochists. I've spoken before about those who thrive on any sort of attention at all, even if it's negative. And they seem to get stuck in that loop until it gets to be old hat.

They know that once things get to a certain point, someone is going to pepper spray them and several large men are going to come in and thump on them until they stop whatever it is they are doing.

Yet they persist.

Just like young TNT the other day. He knew that he was skirting right on the edge, so he had a t-shirt wrapped over his eyes so he wouldn't get much spray in them when it came down to it. But he was ready for us to come in and demanded and even dared us to open his door and come in. Luckily (I guess), he backed down and decided it wasn't worth it and went to sleep instead.

And I know him. He would have screamed like a peacock if the door came open and curled into a little ball. And then he would have cried that we hurt him. But the minute it was over he would have started right up again.

I'm sure some of you remember the punk we had the four hour use of force on a couple of years ago. He liked it so much you basically had to beat him down until he got tired and decided to quit. Just a skinny little punk but he really enjoyed the pain.

And some of you might remember the old guy we have a few years ago. I don't quite remember where he went. An old head (and quite crazy) who used to be quite the badaxe out on the hill in his day. Known for beating up on staff. When the urge came on him if he couldn't get a staff member of his cellie to beat him up, he'd lay in his bunk and punch himself in the face over and over again until his eyes swelled shut and his nose was bleeding.

That man was scary. And crazy as a bag of leaky donut holes.

And there was one other guy. Haven't seem him for awhile, but he was real good at hurting himself, if nobody would do it for him. One day he got hold of a paperclip and bent it out straight and broke it in half. Then he proceeded to stick the pieces of wire under the skin of his arm until they had to be surgically removed. And when he called me over to his cell, he very calmly told me he had to go to medical and showed me his arm. I broke out in a cold sweat, myself.

Pain addicts. I'll bet if we hired a handful of professional dominatrixes to work here, they would be standing in line to get locked up. We'd have to kick them out of the Adseg unit for punishment.

Squirrely damn people, I swear.


  1. hey Mr Rev came here yesterday on Donna's reccomendation, I was hooked and read right fromthe very begining in one marathon heehee,you are fab your writing is dry yet witty..and the subject fascinating,by the way im from London England [thought you might enjoy that small detail] Natalie

  2. Miz Natalie- I'm glad you enjoyed reading my blog. I can't believe you actually read the whole thing! I don't think I could stand that much of my writing in one sitting. Can I offer you some aspirin? (grin)

  3. ahh no asprin needed I enjoyed it...maybe IM a masochist LOL

  4. Crazy as a bag of leaky donut holes. Another of my favorite Rev quotes. And look! You are growing your fan base to over across the pond. Congratulations!

    (forre) <-- the way they really pronounce the golfing term "fore" at St. Andrews. With the rolling r.