Monday, June 27, 2011

One Head, Many Voices

Had one of those nights where they moved me around again. Joy.

Started out in the Moon Room doing strip searches. There's just nothing like starting out your day looking at a bunch of dirty sweaty stinky naked men.

Unless you are really into that sort of thing, then I guess it would be okay for you.

Me, it's not my thing so much.

I thought I was going to go to the yard afterwards but since we had a few extra people those evil swine Nook and Strangle took off and went home early. That meant we had to rearrange everybody and they stuck me on the front desk until 5:30.

In retaliation I started a rumor that Nook and Strangle are having an affair with each other. I don't think that their wives will be too surprised. And if you happen to see anybody, pass the rumor along! Either it will teach them a lesson or they'll go ahead and get engaged. Either way...

After I got done being thoroughly bored at the front desk I finally got to go out to the yard and wander around for awhile. That was nice, even if it was pretty muggy out there.

While I was out on the yard I thought I saw some positive improvement in one of our more severe wobbleheads, but it turned out I was wrong. There's this one little wobblehead I always referred to as "Stick boy". He's just a little bundle of sticks who is always talking to himself or... somebody.... who nobody else can see. he reminds me a bit of Michael Winslow. The guy who made all those crazy voices and noises in the "Police Academy" movies and in "Spaceballs".

I don't know if it's just voices in his head or if he sees real people like Russel Crowe from "A Beautiful Mind" or what. I've never really investigated that closely. But whoever it is, he's always talking to them. We always see him walking the yard by himself, talking under his breath. Sometimes it seems like it's a good conversation and he's happy. Sometimes, it's not so good. When he starts arguing and screaming at them, we usually end up locking him up.

Anyway, he's almost always by himself. But tonight I saw him walking out on the yard carrying his bible. He went and sat down at a table where some other offenders were having some sort of bible study group. I thought "Hey! Stick boy is coming out and relating to other people! He's joined a study group! Maybe he'll start taking a shower now and then! Wouldn't that be keen!"

But it didn't look like he was taking a real interest in the group. Most of the time while they were talking he was sitting sideways in his seat talking to somebody who.... well, you know. The rest of the group took it in stride and just ignored him when he was doing that. He would pay attention to them for a little while and then turn and start talking to somebody else and they would just go on without him until he came back.

Maybe it will help. Maybe it won't. They may just get tired of him and tell him to leave. I was kind of hoping he would come back to light on this planet at least for a little while. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. If they get him to shower once in awhile it would be an improvement. He reeks.

So Tuesday will be Paul Bunyan Day. Oh Lawd. I'm in no mood for tall tales. I get enough of those from Sausage! And apparently that's all it will be.

Blue oxtail soup, anyone?


  1. I've got a question this time. Why do you call it "The Moon Room"? Is it because the inmates are embarassed there?

    (Eh, you see how did that and skirted the profanity?)

  2. I see real people.

    Should I be worried?

  3. That's where we "embarrass" the outside work release offenders entering and exiting the institution.

  4. I'm a straight woman and standing in a room checking on a bunch of naked sweaty men not only doesn't seem appealing to me, I feel down right revolted by the idea. So maybe it's not really anybody's cup of tea. (Certainly not our's, anyway.)

    Maybe he's happier talking to his less than obvious to the normal human eye friends. Sometimes, when I'm really frustrated, I talk to whatever I happen to be working on. Today I had to count a million and five picks for inventory. When I got frustrated I started talking to them under my breath. (Don't worry. None of them had the courtesy to answer me. I'm not crazy.)

  5. Bryan (1)- I think you just answered your own question there. The "Moon Room" is about the nicest name we have for such a delightful post.

    Bryan (2)- You can only be sure they are real after you have poked them with a stick. But then you have to ask yourself "Is this stick real?"

    Drew- Are you and Bryan collaborating on the side here or what?

    Chanel- I'm so glad you said that. I would have been slightly worried otherwise.
    I often talk to inanimate objects to vent frustration. I think everybody does that. But he's holding whole conversations with something or someone. I guess I could just ask him who he is talking to.
    And if I had to count a million and five guitar picks I would throw away the five and say there were a million of them. And what would a pick have to say that would be worth listening to, anyway?

  6. Rev, I was just proud of myself for reading closely enough to catch on.

    Chanel, the first few times it bothers you. After that, it's just meat--lift 'em, turn around, squat and cough!