Sunday, October 12, 2008

Inmate #270000964

The following is taken directly from a document dated 09/09/07, just over one year ago. It was recently discovered tucked away in a folder labeled DBHB. If any of you have any information about the contents of this document, it would be greatly appreciated.

Just kidding, this is actually the final installment of the one and only DBHB and I thought it warranted an entry into C-town history. If anyone has a problem with this posting and would like it removed to protect the "innocent" just shoot me an email and i'll take it down. otherwise, enjoy...

Well, it’s finally here. Tomorrow I’m out. I don’t know if I can handle on the outside anymore. I’m what the smart man in the white coat will call “institutionalized”. I’m thinking of planning a jailbreak and getting caught on purpose. Or trying not to get caught. It would be pretty fun trying to organize a jailbreak and make it all the way to Mexico. Hopefully I can get there before Bush erects his thousand mile four foot tall chain link fence. Cause that’ll keep me out. Good try, W. Not with the Dems in the Senate! Even if I get caught, I fall back into the arms of my newly found adopted mother: the state penal system.

Not saying that I’ll do it, but here’s how it would go down…

First, I’d assemble a crew. Schmidtty’s a given. He’s clearly got some anger issues, and he may become distracted by trying to break his probation terms and harassing his ex again, but I think he can be trusted. We’ll need Porter for muscle. He’ll probably abandon us eventually, but he’d be instrumental in getting us out if we had to unexpectedly use strong-arm tactics to bust out. Mr. Potato Head Man would for sure be coming with, but he actually was released like a week ago. I’m keeping my fingers crossed he f-ed up again and is sitting back at the big house right now, but it’s unlikely. We need four at least to have a good running crew. Five gets too bogged down, and with only three there’s never a clear cut majority on big decisions. It’s always two to one. That’s usually questionable. When you’ve got three to one, there will be less dissent. That’s why for my fourth, I’m going with Hobbs. He’s quiet, not too opinionated; I’m guessing if I needed to sway a vote, I could convince him pretty easily. Plus, “Go Hobbs, Yeah!”

The plan is simple: Walk out the front door. Okay, not that simple. We want to delay the inevitable discovery of our escape for as long as possible so we can have traveled as far towards Mexico until the very quick, very adept, guards figure us out. Schmidtty and I get out early, which will play to our advantage. From what I understand, Porter usually sleeps in until like 1pm, so nobody will miss him for a while. Probably until dinner at 1645 hours (military time for 4:45pm). Hobbs is a different matter. He has STS (sentenced to serve). He goes to work everyday around 8am and works with a crew that is led by one of the guards. We’ll need some collusion from some others with his alibi. We should be able to get one of the 19 year old punks to tell the crew leader that Hobbs isn’t coming because he has diarrhea. Should be believable; Hobbs is f-ing disgusting. He gives out these horrible, loud belches that originate in his lower intestine. “Go Hobbs, Yeah!”
We’ll have to steal some clothes and pillows to make it look like people are under the covers in both Hobbs’ and Porter’s beds. That shouldn’t be too difficult. There’s enough extra standard issue clothing out there to lump up on the beds. We’ll break for it in the morning. I’ll get out at my usual 540 hours. They buzz me out from the office, and at that hour, it’s pretty dark even in the hallways. Porter will hide around the corner, and when I get buzzed out I’ll open the door wide. If he ducks low enough, they won’t be able to see him leave with me. We’ll wait for Hobbs to sneak out using the same method with Schmidt when Schmidtty gets let out twenty minutes later. Then, we take Schmidtty’s Bronco and head West on 94. Schmidtty is key because he’s the only one who has his drivers license and a vehicle there. He didn’t get a DUI, you’ll remember; he just creeps out chicks to the point of involving the authorities. We still love you Schmidt! Now let’s go hop in your car!

We’ll go west until we get to Montana. That will throw them off. Plus, in Montana, there are no laws. At least that’s what I gather from this one Hallmark movie I saw on Lifetime about ten years ago starring Wilford Brimley, I think. I have not really looked at many roadmaps, but I’m sure from Montana, Mexico is a straight shot south. I’m guessing even before we get to Montana, Porter will be bored, or we will have forgotten him at a gas station somewhere. That or he will be arrested again on suspicion of something. He’s African American. Hobbs will be drinking, and Schmidt and I will have realized he has become a liability, and develop a plot to leave him passed out at a rest area somewhere in the Rockies.

At that point, anything could happen, really. And it probably will! (I smell a sitcom!)

Well I guess it’s time to retire my keyboard, and bid you adieu. I think you for patronizing me and reading my blogs. I don’t think jail would have been nearly as fun or humiliating without you. OUT.

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