Saturday, April 18, 2009

18 Apr 09

From Frankie (Letter 12)

Frankie - A Mexican Mafia hitman and leader of prison "booty bandits" who has been proposing our gay marriage ever since he saw me rubbing antifungal ointment on the bedsores on my buttocks at the Madison Street jail. He was there on murder charges he subsequently beat.

April 5-09

Englandman,

What’s up fool?

Let’s get something straight. I’m the man in this relationship, and I’ll deee-cide! You’ve got your freedom and you want to wear the pants, it doesn’t work like that, my friend.

What happened with me? I lost your mom’s address, so I’ve been waiting on you to write, and it took long enough.

Anyway, where should I start? I don’t know if you heard, but come September, D.O.C in Arizona is releasing 9000 inmates, felony class 6, 5, 4, & 3’s drug offences, cuz AZ ain’t got the money to take care of us. I fit that law.

As for any adventures here in Buckeye prison, I honestly gave them cheetos [transsexuals] up. I’ve been going to school for my G.E.D.. I’m write-up free for 2 ½ years. My P.I. score [Public Institutional score] is 25-21. That’s the lowest I’ve ever been. I’ll be going back to Tucson prison really soon, in the next month or two.
I want to see Two Tonys before he dies. I’m going to give him a message to take with him to the grave.

Well, last week I came real close to getting into trouble. I’m walking the yard with a friend, and a fuckin cheeto, a black one, said something disrespectful.
I kept walking, but what I heard kept messing with me, so I told my friend, “You heard what that cheeto just said?”
He said, “Yeah, but he wasn’t talking to us.”
I said, “But he was talking about Mexicans,” and right there and then I decided to go and check this cheeto. So I go back where the cheeto’s at and I tell him, “If I hear that type of shit come out of your mouth again, I’m gonna bust it.”
And the queer said, “I don’t think so.” (No disrespect to all you queers out there, but some of you guys are full of shit. Ha ha!)
So I go to hit him in his mouth, but he jumps like a cat and throws a girl punch, and hits me in my arm, and takes off running to where the guards can see.
The next thing I see all my homies right there, and I tell them, “Bring the queer where the guard can’t see. I’m fuckin this boy off!”
My homies tell me, “This cheeto ain’t worth the trouble. He will tell on you. Better yet, right now, when we get back, we will send someone in his room to fuck him up.”
So I left it alone, and before we went in from rec, the cheeto comes and apologizes, and I felt sorry for him, and didn’t smash him, only cuz it was none of my business what he was talking about, and I felt I was in the wrong, so I accepted his apology, and he ain’t been to rec ever since.

Oh, you need to find me an I.D. card or a passport with someone that looks like me, cuz it’s not much longer and I’ll be walking out of these gates, and coming to England to show you who’s wearing the pants in our relationship.

Oh! Tell Kathi to find me a lady friend who’ll write to me.

I’m going to close for now. Tell Two Tonys I send my love and regards, and that I’ll be seeing him soon, and if he’s suffering, I’m going to help him leave this place.

Much Love & Respect,

Frankie

Click here for Frankie’s previous letter.

Our friends inside appreciate your comments.

Email comments or questions for Frankie to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below. To post a comment if you do not have a Google/Blogger account, just select anonymous for your identity.

Shaun P. Attwood

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