Thursday, November 10, 2011

Guest Post by Barry

Disclaimer: I cannot be held responsible for anything Barry says or does. jb


I’m writing this on toilet paper from my jail cell. As you might have heard, I lost my trial. Can you believe this trial, over a vehicle registration sticker, lasted from 10 AM until 2:30 PM? There were a few recesses and the jury was out thirty five minutes. While they were out, I took the opportunity to let the prosecutor know what an ass hole he was. He just gave me that, “I’ll get you in the end” knowing smile and continued to lie about things he told me at the original traffic court. Well, he did get me, the bastard. Now I will have this blight on my record forever. They had to restrain me when at one point I started shouting, “you can’t handle the truth”. 

I did have some really good advice from Jacob, my lawyer son-in-law. I asked questions of the jury; if any of them had more than one vehicle, etc. I scratched a few potential jurors, one because he worked in law enforcement. One because she was recently laid off and I thought I looked like a republican and another just because I didn’t like his looks.  Hell they gave me three strikes. Use them or lose them was my motto. 
I questioned the cop with many embarrassing, or at least out of character for me, leading questions. I was not allowed to call the prosecutor to the stand. I tried twice. He was a real manipulator and voiced so many objections to my opening statement and testimony that I couldn’t get my points across like I wanted. He also lied to the Jury, and it was too late for me to counter. Basically he took advantage of the fact that I am not an attorney and didn’t have one to represent me. 
So, Jacob, since you didn’t come represent me, why don’t you help me escape? I don’t think a file in a cake is going to work.  Maybe you can crack into their computers. Also, the ankle monitor is starting to give me a blister. Maybe some aloe-vera cream?  
Wait…what was that? I think the prisoner in the adjacent cell is trying to send me a coded message. What is di di dah dit, di di dah, dah di dah dit, dah di dah? There will be a small prize, maybe a personalized license plate, if anyone can decipher that code. ….. 
Oh my gosh, you are not going to believe this. I just saw Tim Robbins walk by. …. Earlier today I tamed a small sparrow, actually I’m not sure if it is a Five Striped Sparrow, a Fox Sparrow. Or a Lark Sparrow. Most likely it is a Five Striped because, after all, we are in a jail. My uniform is striped. I got my first prison tattoo today. I didn’t want to be anti-social. It is a heart with Modder in the middle. I couldn’t bring myself to correct the artist’s spelling.  Anyway, who is going to see it on my buttocks.? 
I have a choice in here. I can either join the Arian Brotherhood, the Black Panthers, the Latin Brotherhood or one of the many other groups. Actually, there is a group of Jewish lawyers and want -to - be lawyers called the Schmohawks. I think I’ll join them because we get special dietary privileges and I like the bird reference.
Well, now they are telling me it will be lights out in five minutes. I guess I’ll have to write again next week when we are supposed to receive a new roll of TP. Please send me a care package. I don’t know how long I will be here. All the guards are Iranian. Shalom.
Barry

5 comments:

  1. Barry, I'm on my way with the truck! When you hear Dixie, move away from the wall and brace for impact. I have deciphered the code from your neighboring inmate, but due to FCC regulations, I can not post!!

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  2. Do you have visitor privileges? And are you in the Mansfield Correctional Center? I would love to come visit, but it will have to be over the weekend as I am taking care of my little grandsons today and I don't want them to see my friend behind bars!

    Maybe you will get time off for good behavior...any chance of that?
    Joan

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  3. Bring TP, PLEASE, they are mad I used all mine up on the last post. ... Oh, wait... I think I'm hearing "Dixie"??

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  4. Barry, you are a nut. They may transfer you from the correctional center to the psychiatric institute.

    Pat D

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