I guess that title might be a little harsh. But just a little.
I've talked about this inmate before. He's the one that dances like Michael Jackson and claims he could kill all of the CO's and knock down the fences if he doesn't get his meds.
When he gets mad he claims that he "blacks out" and that his (other) personality comes out and does terrible things. He also claims that he has nearly beaten other inmates to death.
In his mind, he is one bad mother....... (hush your mouth!)
In harsh cold reality he is just a scrawny little punk with severe emotional problems and delusions of grandeur. He also has very poor personal hygiene. In short, he reeks.
Apparently they kicked him out of the Hive either last night or today and stuck him back in the wobblehead house. And they stuck him in a cell with a guy who is neither a slob nor a wobblehead. I know they guy. He used to be one of my workers. He's pretty fastidious and keeps himself clean and neat.
When the cellie told this wobblehead, who goes by the name of "slingblade" that he better take a shower and wash his nasty clothes, he took off for the mental health offices and cried that his cellie was threatening him and that we'd better do something about it, quick!
Sgt Bowman and I got the call. As soon as I saw him I knew we were going to be locking him up. And sure enough, we did. Under Administrative PC.
I got to escort him back down to the wobblehead house. Since they were busy doing med pass down there and it was almost count time, they stuck me and him in the Sgt's office to wait until they were ready for him.
I know that it's unprofessional, but I really cannot stand that little creep. His constant claims of being a bada** combined with his pungent odor really ick me out and I don't like being anywhere near him.
And they left me in there alone with him for fifteen minutes. The evil swine. And he babbled at me the whole time. When the house officers got in there, he babbled at them. And when Sgt Bowman showed back up he babbled at him.
By that time I just wanted to grab him by his shirt and throw him through something solid and scream "WILL YOU JUST SHUT THE F*CK UP, FOR GAWDS SAKE!!!!"
I'm pretty sure I ground half of the enamel off of my teeth before I managed to get out of there.
Luckily by the time he was ready to go, I was busy doing other things and Sarge sent St. Francis to do the escort. If it had been me, I'm not sure he would have made it to the Hive with all of his appendages still attached.
I have seen a glimpse of my personal hell. Locked in a room with that little creep and not being able to slam him.
I'll be good! I promise!
A report on grumpy me - *Forget about my husband; this is all about me. It's been a strange week of little things going wrong.* *A cap came off a tooth, a cap which can probably ...
2 days ago