"She Never Loved Me"

"Black Camaro"

"The Lovely Lads"

I've formed a street gang with a bunch of ten-year-olds in my neighborhood called The Lovely Lads. We're a bunch of true roughknecks, delinquents. We rule these suburban streets. On Saturday nights, we also dress in maroon velvet suits and sing barbershop quartet music on the sidewalk.

There's one funny-looking old man that we make good sport of; one time, we beat him down for kicks. Nothing lovely about that. Keep it up, old man. See where that goes.

"Dear Katherine"

     I’m reaching out to you because I’m in great need of some emotional and spiritual support. I’ve spent the last five days in a women’s correctional facility. A tragic mix-up. “Clerical error,” as they put it, falls very short, I can tell you, as a description. Those women mistook my kindness for weakness and all I can say is that they’ve got a lot of growing up to do -- Ridiculous, just ridiculous! their behavior. Way out of line! Way out of line!
     Now that I’m out, a free man, I’m not sure what my next move should be. The counselor in the lady jail said I was best suited for for selling shoes or parachuting; I’m leaning towards both.
     The psychological (and physical, but I’d rather not talk about it now) scars I’ve sustained via jail bird vixens have left me shaken, as I’ve mentioned. But I’m also having trouble adjusting to life on the outside: So much has changed. I feel as though the world has turned and left me here, shipwrecked, confused, and alone. Are you still in the ACESJU program? You’ve probably moved back to Bethesda by now. I imagine you’re married and raising a family. I tried calling your cell phone number, but it went to the voicemail of a plumbing supply store. Everything’s so different: There’s all this technology and huge TVs. It’s overwhelming. I hope you still check this email address. I really need help. Can you help me? I’m a ship arriving too late to save a drowning witch.

Your old friend,

 Marc Farful

"My Time In Prison"

     One day, I killed a guy. He was really mean and I killed him karate-style, so I thought everyone would be happy, but instead they said that that kind of killing was illegal. And so, away we went to my trial. My lawyer was bald and did a great job illustrating what a jerk the guy I killed was. He even let me demonstrate to the jury how I killed him karate-style -- how impressive it is -- yet, in the end, the jury felt I had crossed some line by killing the guy, karate-style or not.  

     

     Next stop: The clink.

     

     I wasn’t really worried because my friend, Steve Koser, had told me it was a pretty good time. Some of the guys were cool, but a few others took advantage of the fact that I was a “fresh fish,” as they put it, and told me to act out so I could get put in the hole, the best part of the prison. For future people going to jail, the hole sucks. It’s not even a hole; it’s actually just a disgusting room with no sunlight. It smells, too. Lesson learned.

     

     Slowly, I got the hang of things, which is really just sitting in a cell. Then, miraculously, I won my appeal based on a technicality. My bald lawyer had really done it. I owe him a lot -- I also owe him a lot of money and he’s quite insistent on getting it from me; I’m probably gonna stiff him on that. I mean, how much did he really do? Get a job, ya bum! Then maybe you’ll make some money.

     

     As for me, I feel like the experience pretty much sucked. I didn’t like the food or the selection of board games. I’d give it 2 1/2 stars out 5. 

     

     That was my time in prison.