Lock Me Up. Throw-Away The Weekend.

Rapper, The Game has an old freestyle called "82 Days Left", reflective of his remaining jail sentence. Years later (a Friday in March 2011), I'd be granted the opportunity to see The Game live in concert. But with my "score free tickets, get arrested on the way to the concert" luck, I'd never make it. That's right, I was cuffed and booked on a warrant issued for my arrest- why I had a warrant and even been pulled over in the first place is a whole different blog. So off to the "bing" I went. Sober, yet HIGHly irritated, with a $40,000 bail impossible to post and truly not even worth it. Now I lay here complacent, not comfortable with the day and a half I have left on these "sticky when warm" cots, eating high fructose corn syrup based Apple Jelly on whole wheat bread sure to constipate me, when I could've been slightly hung over, celebrating my little sister's 12th birthday at Universal Studios... HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAT! But my "negligence" in conjunction with a flawed legal system (also for a different blog) messed all that up. On the bright side I got the top bunk- the bottom bunk is for the less dominant cellmate. I'm here with a few cool dudes too, they don't get all bent outta shape when you fart. There's one guy with the same name as me and another who's a chef, almost as funny as I am. We've been roasting this stuff they call food since I arrived (no pun intended). Hold on, lunch is here... watery cheese sauce and a starchy substance. Delicious. For dinner we're spose to have black-eyed peas, "I gotta feeling" that shit's gonna be disgusting too. Less than 8 hours into our incarcerations we were already longing for the luxuries free people indulge in unconsciously: Buds, Beers, Boobs, and food in no particular order. Sadly, we're hoping Charlie Sheen gets arrested and finds his way here cause these health magazines ain't cuttin' it, plus the jailer isn't tryna let us get a deck of cards. If there were arts, crafts, and mosquitoes this would be summer camp. Instead, theres cold, metal toilet seats and vegetarian tamales- don't ask. I wish I had your number memorized, I'd call you and hope you accepted collect calls. I'll see a judge Monday, wish me luck. Remind me to get my shoelaces too....
From LA County Jail,
   Inmate No. 2671202