Seems a Century away now. The things a person keeps buried in their mind hoping not to ever remember Out Loud. Then a sight, a smell, or a song will pop that past back like a drunken driver driving thru your cerebral cortex. And BAM! It’s there again and what do you do with it? You relive it. To a certain degree, yes, You Relive that Shit.
And I can tell you that the memories of being A Retired Texas Prison Guard are visually frightening at times. Like Overseas, things you weren’t meant to see. But you did…Walls covered in Blood you just can’t quite get that Shit out of your Brain.
And at the Ellis Unit in 1978, I saw the meanest, toughest men I ever saw in my life. They took meanness to a whole nother level. And as a Prison Guard there, you become just as mean. Real Mean. Meaner that vinegar piss. Meaner than Twelve Thirty in Rattlesnakes. Piss Angry Mean. And you cussed like never before in your life.
So, when I transferred to another Unit, I took that Anger. That Meanness with me. And deep inside. It’s still there just like resting on a log. Maybe, the Devil’s Log. And in No time, other Guards quickly wanted to be my friend as the Convicts were afraid of Me. And it showed. I didn’t beat nobody down that didn’t deserves it. And in no time, I had my own group of Bitch Followers. Me, a Veteran and a Veteran of the Toughest Prison in America. In 1978, it was. But I was gone from it and at my 2nd Unit.
And after work, we’d get Pizza and Beer and then more Beer trying to find happiness where little could be found. Most People in Huntsville, Texas treated us like Shit. Like a Turd was wrapped around our necks. Like a row of Turds were around our waist like wearing a belt of Turds. But getting pussy was far and in between because the women avoided us. They’d Dance with us at Clubs and let you buy them drinks, but their Pussies were on LOCKDOWN. They had a Chastity Belt on their asses from the 11th Century and it was rusty smelling from never being taken off and only having piss flowing over it all the time.
But we knew how to relieve ourselves. All men do. And some would name their hands by the names of women. I never did. I never did that at all. But i did fuk a few rolls of Toilet paper. When my prick was small enough to go into the hole. Then it grew too large or the paper roll holder got smaller. But damn a hardon came at times you didn’t want none of that. But a Man grows out of that. And so, drinking Beer and eating Pizza had to be your only Vices. But then one day, I learned a word from the Convict Snitches that we had a Son of a Bitch Prison Guard who was paying the Writ Writers to write Writs on Fellow Prison Guards that he didn’t like. Man, that stuff was so Taboo that it wasn’t funny. What a Prick! He was a pure Asshole of the Highest Degree. Paying Convicts to bring Federal Court HELL down on a fellow Guard still pisses me off. And the Convicts didn’t Care. They told me he was and for two Blue Bags of Coffee they’d do that for you. But I found out it was true and he had to get fixed.
So, I put the word out that I wanted him to join my little crowd of Male Bitches that Rode around with me after work. And in no time, his little Cunt Face was in My Group. And he was a pretty boy. A cute looking boy. And I could tell that he was overly willing to please me. Hell, he’d sucked my dick if I had asked him to. So, his little pretty boy ASS was soon riding with the Crowd. And we went and got Pizza and drank Pictures of Beer. Then we got even more Beer and rode around drinking. But we were driving up and down the dirt county roads where no other cars were. And this was way before a DWI became a super big thing that it is today in Texas and truly a bad thing to do. Driving and Drinking ain’t a Cool Thing no more. Don’t do it. Texas ain’t playing with it.
So, I drove the Bitches around until I knew the Son of a Bitch was quite Drunk. And I then drove to one of the oldest Graveyards in the County. But this poor boy didn’t know yet that he’d met a Real Bastard fresh off the Ellis Farm. A mean one. One of the meanest.
So, when we got there I parked and turned the motor off and told the guys that to Be A full member in My Crowd. You had to take off all your clothes and and run thru the graveyard. And he quickly stripped and started running With his boots on And his little naked butt was running with his dick and balls waving right and left and up and down and sideways. I then told the rest to get back in and I started the Truck and they piled into the back. And as I drove down the dirt road well after midnight, I started honking the Horn and the lights in the old houses started coming on as I drove by. And the Guys started yelling too. And as I drove, I tossed the clothes out belonging to the naked Bitch left at the Graveyard.
And when I got to the blacktop and raced back to the Barracks where the single Guards lived like me and them. And no one asked me why i left that guy butt naked in Cowboy Boots in that Graveyard. No one. It wasn’t Cool.
But a Deputy Sheriff drove out and hit him with a Spotlight while Naked Man with the Cowboy Boots on was trying to hide behind a 1700s Grave Headstone. And he was taken in and charged with Trespassing. And when he went before the Judge, the Judge Hanged him with a ton of Community Service. The Judge wasn’t hearing none of what or who had done nothing to him. He was Found Drunk and Naked TRESPASSING with Cowboy Boots on. In a Historical Graveyard at that. And that Old Buzzard Judge was ANGRY. And he found NAKED’s behavior as being Totally Unacceptable!
And when the Convicts found out what I had done. They came up to me telling me–Payback is a Bitch! And I always agreed with them. And they knew I had paid the boy back for his paying Convicts to write Writs on Fellow Guards. And guess what? He never did it again. And the Convicts told him that I said the next time he paid to have a Writ done, he’d never be leaving the Graveyard ever again.
Sure, it was a crazy shit thing the Convicts were saying to that Bitch but who cared? None of us did. And there weeks later, a Building Captain pulled me to the side and Asked me why I’d done that shit to him. And I told him.
And the saddest thing about it was that the boy was bringing in marijuana to the Inmates and that Building Captain was smoking that Kid’s Weed too. I wasn’t. And that Kid never did that Bullshit again. Not so as I heard about it.
But I was pure mean. I felt nothing when I drove away that night. And left him Butt Naked in that Old Graveyard. And I never went down that road again. NEVER. Not ever. NEVER ever.
And one day, I QUIT And came back years later and Retired after working at Five Different Prison Units. And the one time I ever got in any trouble was for Calling In Sick too many times and I couldn’t Call In again for so long. But I wasn’t alone. Everyone was Calling in Sick. I did my time and a Lt. Told our Shift How to do it Right and not get in trouble again.
That was to go see the Quack Shack of Doctors and say something was wrong and that you’d be better in a few days. And they’d always write a letter saying you were under their Care and could Return to Work on a Certain Day. And BAM! You couldn’t get in trouble. But you got some days Off. Mental Days Off. And when I did that, I needed those Days Off.