Incarcerational Logistics

Another of the major, if not most important, questions that basically arose prior to my incarceration was how I could continue to be on the forefront of Earth saving while being largely basically cut off from communication with most of the denizens of the Earth that I am destined to save.  Obviously, there were two major challenges. Firstly, how to communicate with my technicians such that I could give them appropriate instructions towards appropriate Earth-saving activities. After firstly, how to make sure that I can continue to get the appropriate inspirational sustenance that I require such that I can continue to run my Earth-saving operation. Solution #1: Carrier Pigeons.

We basically sold one of our field vehicles and used all of the money to purchase the aforementioned pigeons and hire the World’s Greatest Pigeon Handler, Gustavo.  As you can likely ascertain by looking at Gustavo, he's an experienced man, and we basically had the utmost confidence that he would successfully spearhead one of the most important operations in the history of pigeons.

With a new flock of carrier pigeons and Gustavo on the job, saving the Earth was basically inevitable and operation dissertation completion was looming on the horizon despite my brief incarcerational setback.

Shiv Happens

After basically reviewing many shiv options such that I could make the best choice for asserting dominance, I basically settled on the toothbrush model. As you may or may not know, I’m pretty good at making things. I’m not bragging, it’s just basically a fact.

Next question: whom to shank?  I basically felt it necessary to choose someone that was respected and feared such that I could be the aforementioned respected and feared.  I chose to shank my cellmate Hector.

 This basically brings me to prison rule number 3, don’t shank your cellmate with the wrong end of a sharpened toothbrush.

The Shiv or the Shank?

Dwight has finally basically awakened, but he has basically been less than forthcoming about where he was or how he got all of the various scratches and abrasions about his body.  After he finally woke up, we basically immediately got back to my therapy.  After a few hours with the aforementioned Dwight and a few bottles of my precious limited supply of Zima, I basically realized that I need to communicate my prison experience to my loyal followers such that I can heal and such that I can provide inspiration to those of you that may or may not spend time in prison at some point in the future for some unforeseen reason.  Basically, the first thing I did when I learned I was going to prison was devote all of the time of my technicians to studying what I needed to do to survive my unfortunate and unfair banishment.  As you may or may not know, there are basically some good books out there on this topic.

There are basically a few basic rules to surviving your prison stay: rule number 1, get yourself a good shiv. Rule number 2, show the other prison people that you mean business. I normally basically don’t want anything to do with business because of the evil destructive practices employed by business in destroying Earth’s precious resources, but this was about survival. Not just any survival, my survival, and therefore Earth’s survival. One such way that one may show that one means business to others such that they establish dominance is through using the aforementioned shiv for shanking a fellow inmate. Basically, shivs can be made from lots of different materials but, interestingly, there really aren’t places where you can buy these so you generally have to make them yourself or buy them from other prison tenants using cigarettes or favors.  So I basically went to prison with a plan, but with lots of unanswered questions about how to get the aforementioned shiv...

The Success of My R.A.P.I.S.T. Protocol

Studs and studettes, we got him!  The spackler has been brought to justice.  To make a long story short, basically, for five nights in a row, I was woken up by someone knocking on my door.  By the time I put on my woodpecker undies, stumbled through my dark house, and got to the door, the perpetrator had disappeared, leaving only a paper bag filled with chocolate pudding they had set on fire.  I promptly stomped it out, woke up all of my technicians and had them fan out from my house to find this pudding hating pyromaniac.  I basically knew it was someone not very intimate with my dietary preferences or they would have known I like banana flavored pudding!  Or, maybe they knew I disliked chocolate and that’s why they threw that on my porch.  Anyway, my technicians failed to locate the culprit, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.  I borrowed a security camera system a villager was using to find out what jungle creature was raping his goats.  I put it on a fence post across from my front door and went to bed, knowing the perpetrator could not resist throwing his pudding on my porch again.  Like clockwork I was woken up by knocking and the flickering of a small flaming bag of chocolate pudding.  I promptly stomped out the fire and retrieved my video.  I couldn’t freakin’ believe it!  It was the Slovenian jeweler I hired to make the petrified owl-monkey-testicle-laden ring for Ursula.   AND, it wasn’t chocolate pudding at all, it was a bag of his feces.  ARE YOU FREAKIN’ KIDDIN’ ME?!  I stomped on a flaming bag of sh*t with my new freakin’ gorilla's wool slippers?!    

I decided the best way to catch this poop flinging jeweler was to have the villager that was having his goats raped to make me a man-sized snare.  He was unwilling at first because I wouldn’t tell him what I needed it for, but when I told him I would give him back his camera if he built the snare, he capitulated.  I’m not bragging or anything, but my flawless negotiational skills and mastery of the Paraguayan and English languages are enough to convince anyone to do my bidding.  Basically, the snare worked!   I caught him the next night.  Unfortunately, while he was thrashing around in the snare he smashed the camera to a million pieces, but since he did it, it was his responsibility to tell the villager it was broken.  

Why did he do it you wonder?  He apparently went bankrupt as a result of my public condemnation of the sale of petrified owl-monkey-testicle-laden rings once I found out the testicles came from real freakin’ monkeys.  He also admitted to spackling all over my bathroom.  That, he said, was for me spackling all over his bathroom when I was meeting with him to design Ursula’s ring.  Well, I’m sorry jewelry guy for my body forcefully rejecting the ground beef you fed me for lunch!  Why would you expect me to clean up my poop when it was in your store?!  What don’t people understand about the uncontrollability of my bowel movements?!

I decided the best way to get my revenge was to send the video of the porch pooping to a local news station.  I told them I was a schoolteacher at a boarding school in a nearby village to avoid having to deal with the fame that would surely come from my use of the man-sized snare.  I didn't want police from all over Paraguay banging on my door asking me to build them man-sized snares, which I obviously don't have time to build.  Basically, the video was watched by dozens if not hundreds of people, providing me with a giddy feeling that comes only  from cold justice.  I’ve provided a link to the video here.  You’re welcome.  

WARNING: This is barely graphic footage, even though I’ve blurred out the man parts (you’re welcome ladies)!    http://www.firstcoastnews.com/video/default.aspx?bctid=1206853467001

Wake Up Dwight!

Since returning from his brief hiatus, Dwight has basically slept for more than an entire week. Obviously, this is a very selfish act given that I was in need of his therapeutic assistance to mend the deep psychological wounds induced by my recent incarceration.  I’m still not sure what caused all of those scratches on his back, face, and the rest of his body, but I’m basically sure that there’s most likely a reasonable explanation for the aforementioned scratches and abrasions.

In other news, I’ve basically been acquiring apps for my new tablet.  For some reason, even though my tabputer© is vastly superior to all others, including the iPad, as evidenced by the much greater price, I can only purchase apps for my aforementioned tabputer© from the Apple store.  Because the aforementioned Dwight has basically been sleeping and neglecting my needs, I downloaded a therapists app such that I can find a temporary replacement. Unfortunately, this app only informs me about the location of reported serial rapists. It’s from using this app that I’ve learned there’s a serial rapist on the loose in my area of Paraguay. He’s described as a white male, approximately 32 years old, 1.8 meters tall with long brown hair and a tattoo on his right shoulder.  He basically sounds pretty creepy.  I better help my technicians out a lot by warning them about the aforementioned serial rapist such that they won’t get assaulted and have to miss work. You’re welcome, technicians.

Pooper On the Loose!

I will make this post quick because I’m in the process of doing some surveillance work in my field house and, given that I basically just posted a post, I don't want all of you expecting to see several posts a day.  Basically, I guess my bowels are still getting used to non-prison food.  I had just slipped into my favorite pair of underpants in preparation for bed when I felt a rumbling in my gut that signaled the onset of what I self-diagnosed as Irritable Bowel Syndrome. 

 

 It must have been the chicken drumsticks I ate for dinner.  I knew it was going to be a long night, so I grabbed my favorite book (Charlotte’s Web), three rolls of toilet paper, and my new tablet and shuffled my way to the bathroom.  As I neared my porcelain throne, I realized immediately something wasn’t right.  My nose started to burn, my eyes watered terribly, and I began to dry heave.  The door to the bathroom was partly open and the odor coming out of it was what I would expect the inside of a Mastodon’s rectum to smell like.  I peered inside and couldn't believe my eyes.  There was poop. Everywhere!  Apparently, someone had sprayed their insides all over the toilet, the trash can, the sink, even the shower head.  I briefly wondered how such universal coverage was even physically possible before I began having flashbacks of prison and thinking about that time when four other prisoners and I . . . Sorry, but the memories are still too traumatic to delve into right now. Anyway, after mentally collecting myself, my curiosity quickly turned to rage.  This fecal attack was deliberate, insulting, and an act of war.  It was also too vile to post on this blog, so here is an image of what my bathroom used to look like.  

Everyone knows I consider my bathroom a sacred place, hence my bathroom cleaning protocol, Bathroom Inventory, Toilet Cleaning, and Health (B.I.T.C.H.). To defecate all over it in such a violent manner is treasonous.  As a response, I have developed the Reconnoiter And Procure Invisible Spackling Terrorist (R.A.P.I.S.T.) protocol to find the perpetrator and bring them to justice.  I know you follow my blog, spackler, so consider this your warning.  I will find you and you will pay for this injustice!  And don't worry Carl, this will not detract from my quest for ultimate revenge!

Found!

I basically wish that Dwight would wake up. As you may or may not know, he’s been sleeping since returning from his brief hiatus, likely because his asthma led him to become very tired such that he descended into a deep sleep.  Without Dwight’s help, I’ve not been able to resist the insatiable desire to seek revenge for the wrong that Carl has done to me. I have it on the great authority of a confidential informant that Carl is in los Estados Unidos de América.  Despite being an illegal immigrant, Carl was basically hired to be the token Asian at the recent Republican National Convention in Tampa, Florida. 

Now that Operation Find Carl has been successful and we’ve found him, it’s time to deploy all of my technicians to the aforementioned Florida such that AIDS may be properly unleashed. You may have found work as a costume model, and as a token Asian, but I WILL NOT GIVE YOU A GOOD RECOMMENDATION!  We’ve got you Carl, it’s time to pay for your unforgivable deeds. 

iMAnAss

Whereas most normal scientists are hell-bent on destroying the environment by taking notes on paper, I’ve basically invested in a tablet computer such that I may eliminate my need for paper and further inspire you. Obviously, the fanciness of my possessions must be proportional to my importance of a scientist. As you may or may not know, many people with the aforementioned tablet computers settle for the iPad or even lesser types of tabputer©.  I basically refused to settle and have therefore purchased the much more expensive iMAnAss, which is only exclusively offered by one purveyor of luxury goods.

No, I don’t understand the name of it, but I do understand that it’s more expensive than an iPad and therefore must basically be vastly superior.  Someone has suggested that I’m an ass for purchasing the aforementioned tablet, hence the name, whereas others have suggested that in referring to man ass, it’s geared towards homosexuals. I can basically assure you that I’m neither of these things*, I’m the World’s Greatest freaking Biologist!  And no, I don’t know why there are donkeys on it, or why one donkey is trying to give the other the Heimlich maneuver, but it’s the best and that’s why I need it.  The aforementioned purchase will undoubtedly help me on my Earth-saving quest toward dissertation completion.

*prison doesn’t count

Dwight Returns

Basically, I just wanted to let all of you, my loyal followers, know that Dwight has returned safely. As you may or may not recall, Dwight disappeared about a week ago without mentioning anything about where he was going. Obviously, this type of thing happens occasionally when your brother is an in-demand outdoor massage therapist.  For some reason his back was covered with scratches when he returned, presumably because he was proceeding shirtless through a briar patch. I really can't think of any other explanation, and he doesn't talk very much.

As you may or may not be able to imagine, this type of thing happens fairly often after Dwight has to rely on his glass inhaler.  I'm not sure if it's the pollen count here in Paraguay or what that's basically making his asthma act up, but he's been using that thing more than usual since he got here. Obviously, the oxygen deficiency caused by this medical condition must cause him to do things that are out of character. I'm basically just glad he's back safely and am sure you're quite relieved as well. Now Dwight can basically help get me back on track to recovering from the deep wounds of my recent incarceration.

I have AIDS!

Well, after basically devoting all of my resources to coming up with a new protocol, and more importantly, an acronym for the aforementioned protocol, I’ve done it. I’m obviously proud to announce the launching of Apprehending Ignominious and Deceptive Squealer, or AIDS.  This may be among my best protocols yet. Carl, we’re on to you, and it’s just a matter of time. Save yourself the embarrassment and just turn yourself in.

Have you no dignity Carl?

Well, I basically found Carl. As you may or may not recall, the aforementioned Carl was basically singlehandedly responsible for me spending a year in prison. I’ve been working through my anger at Carl with the help of a therapist, and he made me promise not to talk about Carl anymore such that I may begin the healing process.  Since this aforementioned therapist basically disappeared and has not been seen for the past four days, I have not been able to resist the temptation to mobilize my technicians with a new protocol called “Operation Find Carl.”  I have unveiled this new protocol without yet coming up with a proper acronym, but I assure you that one of the technicians has been assigned to the task of creating an acronym for the aforementioned protocol such that I can communicate about the operation more effectively and concisely without using too many unnecessary words.  I don’t like to brag, but being concise is basically one of my greatest gifts. Anyhow, Carl is working as a costume model in Japan, undoubtedly because of my refusal to give him a positive recommendation in his chosen field. 

Dressing up like a squirrel Carl? Seriously? Those testes don't even look biologically accurate.  Don't you have any dignity?  Now that I know where he is, I can send a team to apprehend him as soon as I come up with an appropriately detailed protocol to accomplish this incredibly important task.