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Just put my cap on to test if I can go incognito like Joe Goldberg... I am now tweeting from inside a cell via a Nokia 3310 an inmate pulled out of his anus
Will keep you updated as the events unfold but I& #39;m currently witnessing a man cook lasagna from inside a kettle
Taste test soon. Origin of the meat? Currently unknown. Asked him for his halal certificate he told me to go fuck myself.. I& #39;m building an alliance
Update: I can confirm that the lasagna is indeed rat meat. Unsure if he meant a snitch or the common street vermin. Not exactly sure which one I hope it is more.
They& #39;ve given me a slice of lasagna on an afro comb which I& #39;m assuming will be my plate. Resourceful. I& #39;ve told them it& #39;s against my religion to eat. He asked if I& #39;ve ever eaten lasagna, I told him I& #39;ve never eaten in my life.
Awaiting his response.
Conversation has swayed, he believes I& #39;ve never ingested food before. Progress. He& #39;s now teaching me jail code and has told me to stick an ass cheek in between the cell door bars as a greeting to the guards. Their form of communication predates human intelligence. But I will try.
The other prisoners started howling as my left cheek touched the cell door bars. I have apparently announced myself as the prisons wife. Unsure yet what this means.. I will begin my research.
After extensive research I& #39;ve now found out the responsibilities that this job title holds. I am now in fear. I& #39;ve asked them to please say sike.
I am currently doing everything within my power to relieve myself of said duties. Apparently there is a way.. currently undergoing more prison code classes. Will keep you updated.
After what has seemed like an eternity filled with darkness I have found out that my mistake was using my left cheek instead of my right. Rookie. If I repeat the same action with my right I will cancel out my previous job application because of BODMAS.
Note: I do not believe my current source of prison information but I have to escape the bondage I& #39;ve got myself in to. Hopeful.
My hopes of undoing the matter were in vain. Aggressive depression. The only TRUE way I can escape the subjugation I face in this correctional facility is to sing Despacito to the white supremacists that reside within the prison before the cock crows twice tomorrow morning.
I can hear the echoes of the prisoners calling me a "dirty little slut". Whatever happened to black lives matter? But anyway, I digress. For now I must sleep. My road to salvation begins tomorrow. Nelson Mandela-esque.
