The War Machine saga continues, and contained in this two week snapshot of his life behind bars are little gems such as a random telephone conversation with Joe Rogan, and Mr Machine almost inciting a riot during a game of chess.
LMAO! I just called my boy @JRGomez who has been posting my blogs for me to bitch at him for his laziness and he was waiting outside of a club in Hollywood to watch Joe Rogan perform. Anyway, it just so happened that @joerogan was walking by and my boy passed him the phone. Joe asked me if I’ve been working out… I told him that I’m a lazy, skinny-fat bitch and haven’t broken a sweat in months! LOL! Sad but true. Man, I wish I was there drinking and watching him perform! Jail is fucking stupid! In a lot of my blogs I complain and complain about how lame the system is… Shit, often times I sit in my cell reading Genghis Khan books and imagine myself getting out and starting a revolution… giving the country back to real men. But fuck… there ain’t shit I can do man. We’re fucked. I’m fucked. The cool times to live have long passed and this is reality. As much as I hate it, I guess the only real option is being a bitch. Tuck my tail and just “follow the rules.” Yeah, my spirit will suffer, but at least I’ll be NOT IN JAIL. I can train and fight… fuck my wife and listen to Joe Rogan tell jokes. I almost said “drink,” but then I remember that I am forbigged to drink until I’m off probation… ugh… WTF!? That’s really fucked up, I can’t even drink some whiskey while I enjoy Joe Rogan’s entertainment. He better be extra funny that night to make up for my sobriety! LOL!
Anyway, now that I’m past my half-way mark, the thoughts of getting released are fucking stressful! My credit is fucked now, my sick gas saving Prius is gone, no money, no house, completely out of shape, and I have a wife to worry about. Fuck… If I didn’t have a job waiting for me at Undisputed teaching… and I didn’t know all I have to do is get in shape and fight to get my life financially in order… I’d really be trippin. The saddest part about it is all these guys in here are not as fortunate as me. How is a normal person supposed to do it? Is it really any wonder that they come back again and again? They get out with no money, no credit, no car, no home, and no one wants to hire them because they are a convicted felon. Even if they really want to “change,” how long is one going to struggle and suffer until they make some type of move to get money and a little security? It’s crazy. And what about the ones with kids and shit? Even harder. I feel really bad for these guys. Just knowing how insecure & stressed I am about my release… fuck, I really can’t imagine being in their shoes.
Before coming to jail, I always just thought repeat offenders were just major fuck-ups and DUMB. This experience has really opened my eyes to the reality of it all. They really have almost no chance. Fuck! Now I’m depressed. LOL. And SO BORED! Not even buying delicious junk food snacks from commissary cheers me up anymore! Jacking off is even getting boring! WTF is this place doing to me!? My fingers are stained red from Hot Cheetos. Reminds me of road trips (I only eat them on road trips). And today, I took a nap and dreamed of Rude Boy and Kendall Grove. I was visiting them in Hawaii. It was so nice to see those two pieces of shit WHO HAVEN’T E-MAILED ME ONCE! I can’t wait to punch them. Maybe I should move to Hawaii or even Guam… I’m always happier in the sun and around islanders. Fuck, I dunno.