"Men can beat each other to a pulp and still walk away friends. With a woman, once an enemy, always an enemy. Women will sit like spider, for years, waiting for the chance to strike. They never forget and seldom forgive."
—Sherrilyn Kenyon, Infamous
Howdy! It's Saturday night on what would have been my mom's 96th birthday. My dad's 100th birthday is next week. They've both passed away, and I miss them both. I have a picture of my mom on the bookshelf.
I'm alive! Yah! My last cellie moved out this past Thursday. He's a nice guy, and we got along. But it's sure nice to be alone. I hope it lasts!
Currently, it's Pink singing You Make Me Sick playing on C3P0.
So, I've had this story to tell and I've debated telling it. I was talking about this with Lee—who, at the moment, is one of my best friends on the compound—and he encouraged me to write about it 'cause it's a big part of my life and such. So here goes...
I've mentioned Kevin before. I spoiled Kevin rotten, as I do every guy I'm infatuated with. It's an insecure trait of mine, but I enjoy it. So don't judge. Anyway, I contributed a lot to him, and he had even told other guys that I was "his bitch" to scare them off. You've read all about him in previous posts.
Well... three weeks ago, I was out walking with Mason and he was telling me how Kevin let my former cellie, Patrick—um... how should I put this... penetrate him anally, perhaps? For a half a hit of K2. In here, that would be worth about $2.50.
Now, let me describe Patrick. It is not unheard of to hear him referred to as Jabba the Hut. He's grossly obese and, in general, he's a disgusting person. As a result, Kevin's new nicknames are Half Deuce or Two-fifty (a deuce is slang for K2).
Oh my God. He's disgusting. As far as I'm concerned, if he needs anything further, he can take his Two-fifty ass up to cell 51 and bend over for Jabba the Hut at $2.50 a pop. Enjoy. He came over this past Monday and tried to put it all back on me, as if I was being unreasonable.
Yeah. Good luck with that.
I was a real bitch for a couple of weeks, but when Lee came over this past Monday after Two-fifty had left, he said I was glowing. And not because of Kevin. I had company of some sort or another every day since Sunday.
Kevin is now starting to realize how big of a mistake he has made. But what's really screwed up is that he's not one bit sorry about how he treated me. He's so sorry about everything he's losing out on financially. As I told Lee, I'm like one of those deep sea travelers with all of these lines of bait going out, waiting for the next one. Ha!
Okay, so as I was saying, now I have to live in the same unit as Two-fifty and Jabba the Hut, and see them several times a day. Two-fifty came over again this past Tuesday and immediately—after a very brief apology—started making excuses and getting an attitude again. Pass.
Just for the record, if he had gotten together with Mohawk or Brent, I could have understood that and couldn't object to that since they're both good-looking and provide him with lots of stuff themselves. But Jabba the Hut, who is disgusting, for $2.50? What a drug whore.
C3P0 is currently playing We Are Family by Sister Sledge. I still remember Laura Blair's cheerleader routine to it in high school. She was my best friend at the time.
So this past—oh, yesterday—was Thanksgiving. We get a turkey leg, which was tough and gross, some white meat in foil, a small square of stuffing, gravy, veggies, a half-pint of ice cream and pie. It wasn't that that great. I didn't do much at all yesterday or today.
Oh my God. That did not happen. I did not just cave.
Two-fifty came over tonight. I caved, and I smiled at him after he said something stupid and pointless. I smiled back at him. I fucking caved. Fuck.
He did all the usual stuff: tried to get in my locker, laid down on my bed, told me he wasn't leaving, and tried to prevent me from leaving. And I kept fucking smiling at him when I told him no over and over, and asked him to leave. I really hate him.
I finally managed to leave the cell, and I was still smiling. Lee was sitting in his usual spot in the day room. I walk directly toward him when I leave my cell. He was talking to G-G (yawn) and saw me smiling, smiling back. Lee has really become my best friend lately. He's the only person I talk to about my life.
Anyway, Two-fifty listened to everything I had to say, and I sure as hell am not one to hold back. I even called him Two-fifty a couple of times. Fucker. I really hate him. I really do.
I'd like to recommend a great break-up song and a great dance song: Tears by Clean Bandit. I highly recommend Clean Bandit in general. They are very much underrated in my opinion.
I was thinking that I should share with you how if there were a Better Homes and Prison Cells, my cell would be featured in it. It looks so nice. Yes, I could stand to put away some clutter, but my cell with the small paintings, stuffed toys, and my mom's black and white picture look really nice. I still don't have a cellie so far (knock on wood).
Okay, so recently I've suffered from some thefts from my cell. At some point last night, someone got in my wallet in my sweatpants and took about $5 worth of mailing stamps and some copy cards. But left the wallet. The only time I was really out of my cell was when I signed on to the music service on the computer. Two-fifty was in and out of the computer room twice during that 15 minutes. And earlier this week, my earbuds (for C3P0) were missing from my desk. But they left my mp3 player which was right there.
All signs point to Two-fifty, and everyone knows it. NO ONE hardly ever comes to my cell.
I told him earlier today that if he needed anything that he could take his Two-fifty ass up to CELL 51. He did not like that. I just told him that he didn't have to come around me.
As I close, I'm enclosing a picture of Two-fifty and me on 10/14—just before all this drama. I'm the old hag on the left. As I've said before, KP/Two-fifty always takes horrible pictures 'cause he always has that awful smirk. He is honestly much better looking in person.
Until next time, I wish you...
Love and blessings,
[Colored photocopy of Kelly and Kevin. They're both wearing watches, have sweaters tied around their necks, and are standing straight against a white wall with their hands joined together in front of them. They're both smiling at the camera. Kelly has shoulder length brown hair, Kevin has a beanie and tattooed arms.]
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