March 19, 1986

Ruben he decided i wasn't nasty enough so he decided to start shitting in my pants. By nasty he meant nasty smelling and diseased. So he got up one morning and slapped me around and said push your pants down, and he sort of sat there between my legs and took a shit.

I thought at first it was pretty bad. Who wants someone to shit in your pants? But when he got up and I started to take them off he said No, wear em. So i had to pull my shitty pants up and let my ass mush down in his shit. He did that for a week or two. I forget, really. It was longer than you'd want it to be.

My pants got to where they weighed 10 pounds. His shit was dry and running down my legs. It was caked all over my ass and my balls and i started to itch but he wouldn't let me take a shower. I was supposed to but he told the guards what was happening and they laughed and then I had to blow them so they wouldn't spray me off in the yard with the fire hose.

I don't know what was worse, really. Him shitting in my pants every day, or me having to use my tongue to be his toilet paper every day. They was both awful.

Ruben finally made me wash off in the toilet as best I could because he said I smelled too terrible to be near. It was just him being a sonofabitch. God, I hated prison.

this is just today, not something from the past

Whew! I thought it'd be easy to just set down and type up all these things and put them out there for people to see -- if anybody is reading this that is -- but man, as soon as I started reading all these diary entries and looking at the originals -- some is written on paper, and some is on paper towels and just about anything. One year I wrote a bunch in the margins of a magazine i had -- But anyway, once I started doing this, and even seen the blood that was on some of the pages it all come rushing back over me and it got to be overwelming.

I was setting there the other night and I thought i was going to go crazy so I had to go outside and stand there and look up at the stars and say over an over to myself, your free your free. Nobody's gonna fuck you up the ass tonight. And nobody did, neither. Thank God.

I sometimes have a hard time dealing with having been a fuck rag for a bunch of assholes. And I was a fuck rag. They used to have me set there next to the ass of some boy they was fucking and when he cum in that boy's ass, he'd pull out and make me suck him clean before he put his dick back in his pants. It was no kind of life for a man to live, and it ain't like you even think of yourself as a man if you lived that life. You is some sorta animal, lower than a animal because nobody what loves his pet is gonna do that to him.

Trust me, Rubin, he didn't love me. He just fucked me.

I'll try to write more, but like i said just typing this stuff is difficult. It's difficult not to get all caught up in it and set there thinking "I could go kill this motherfucker if i wanted to." But of course, then I'd be right back in jail, i'd be right back in the whorehouse. I'm not doing that, i'm staying free. I killed some people once and I got punished for it. I just want to do what I do and make a decent living and be left alone.

February 27, 1986

Rubin thought it'd be funny if I learned how to smoke a cigarette with my asshole. I didn't much agree with him, and I told him I thought it was a bad idea. He hit me and said he didn't care what I thought so next thing I knew my pants was off and I was on the top bunk and another of Rubin's boys was shoving a cigarette up my asshole. (one a the good things about being a punk is you get to do stuff like shove things up other guy's assholes)

He didn't lite it until it was stuck in there filter deep, then he lit it and I was supposed to inhale. Well you need lungs for doing that, so it's not like nothing much was going on except I had a burning cigarette in my asshole now.

Rubin, of course, he didn't much like that nothing was going on, so he started throwing lighted matches at my nuts. I got a big nut sack and they was hanging down and he was pretty good at throwing matches. It ain't like he was settin my nuts on fire, but they was still hot when they hit. Now, it might amuse nearly everyone, and it did amuse Rubin, but the thing is, when your nut sack sets in the middle of your legs and ass and stomach you ain't got to be too accurate to hit something tender. Inside a my thigh burns just like my scrotum.

Rubin got tired of that pretty soon, and he was annoyed that I weren't smoking the way he thought i ought to be smoking, so he climbed up on the bed with me and pissed all over me to put out the fire. It was my bed so it meant sleeping in Rubin's piss, but that wasn't that big a deal.

The big deal come next. Rubin he decided to have his boy put another cigarette in my ass, and this time they let it burn down all the way to my asshole. Rubin shut up my screaming by having one a his halfwit boys fuck my mouth.

Prison doctor lectured me the next day. He said, the mouth is for smoking cigarettes, the asshole is for shitting, not smoking cigarettes. He didn't ask why they was a lot of cum running out a my asshole. I didn't tell him, neither. I just said, oh, is that so?

My reputation ain't the best in here.

Feb 19, 1986

Nice welcome back I got. Ever heard of spit rape? It's when they hold you down open your mouth and everbody there spits in your mouth. God! Damn!!! it's awful You think anything you ever got done to you is bad, you wait until they spit rape you, then when you're puking 5 10 times they turn you over and fuck your ass.

Rubin he says if i be his girl then he can protect me. that means fuckin him suckin him suckin his asshole and believe me, i know he likes that, and doin it anytime he wants it. He said he was gonna make me his toilet. I dunno.

Another punk told me it's a better life, but not if he starts rentin you to the savages.
I hope to god he don't rent me to the savages. I don't even know who the fuck they are. I just don't like the sound of that. People in jail who are so much worse they get called savages is people to keep your distance from. Fuck!

February 17, 1986

Just got outa solitary. I was makin too much noise they said. Fuck, i was fuckin screamin because rubin was fuckin me with a shoe. I begged to stay in there longer. Food was lousy but at least no one was pissin in it. Rubin, he thinks it's funny to piss in my food. i don't.

when i get outa here i'm never eatin pissed on food again.

December 5, 1985

Goddamn. hard to write when you can't sit down on your ass. Can't sit down cause 10-15-20 muthafuckers fucked me last night. Food sucks but then so do I. i had to learn how or else Rubin burns my dick with his cigarette. Kept me nekkid all yesterday. goddamn. Hard to believe i just been in here a few weeks already.

november 22, 1985

I met rubin. He don't seem like a nice man at all. He lives one cell down and runs the block. he grabbed my ass and said it was his. He's a lot bigger than me. this ain't going like i'd hoped it would. i thought being a killer would give me somethin. it don't give me shit. but rubin, he gives me a lot of shit. i ain't happy.

Start of the diary

November 15, 1985

Jail ain't worth a goddam. I don't know what I thought it was gonna be, but it's lousy. The food's lousy, and the people in here are lousy. All I fuckin did was shoot two sons a bitches. You'd think they take into considerasion that i killed too sonsabitches and let me go. It was a fuckin public service.

I'm doin all this complainin and I been in here 6 hours now. i got at least 5 years to go. One guy looked at me awhile ago and said, meet. Or maybe he said meat. I know the stories. I hope he said meet.

The beginning

Okay. I was in jail. I admit it. I shot a couple a guys and I admitted it. It was easier that way. What I didn't figure on was that no one wanted me to admit to nuthin. But I did, so it was bad. That's the thing, it's a lot easier to get into the business if you come from the right town, but it's a lot harder to get out of the business, too, if you catch my drift.

I was a kid, and I didn't no no better. Now I no better. I spent a few years in jail, and lemme tell you, most a them was terrible. You seen the movies where everbody is settin around watchin movies and tv and laughing and all that? They don't show you what happens when the lights go out and the guards are on the take cause they no that sooner or later the guys in jail will be out and waitin in the bushes at the end a their driveway with a iron pipe and a grudge.

You heard the term punk? You think it means you wear torn up clothes and put pins through your ears, right? That's nothin. I wish i had pins in my ears and that was all. I wish I didn't have nothin bigger than a pin stuck in me. But that ain't what punk is. Punk is a guy whats the girlfriend of another guy in jail. An that's me. For 7 years that was me. You think you got it rough, you try being fucked up the ass every day for 7 years. I'm not a big guy. I'm 5-7 an maybe 160, but I can hold my own against a lot of guys, but not 10 of em. Not 10 of em at once.
I'm gonna be puttin in some of my diary entries here. They don't start right at the beginning but they do start soon enough. I wrote it down most days in the mornin after they were finished with me. I didn't write it down every day because i didn't always have time.

Some of it's pretty tough reading. I hope you can take it and that you will enjoy it. I'm not some great writin expert. But it's my story.