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Hey people,

I am glad that you guys wrote to me again.  Makes me feel not forgotten once again.  I wrote to Fuzzy Bear but I can’t call him: no phone time.  A money order takes 14 days to clear.  Money put online takes three business days.

It’s good that everyone is doing okay, that Rage is writing again. It’s good to write at least an hour a day, and I know what he means about almost hating writing.  I also know about having a psychological burning within to get ideas on paper.  I write long hand.  I like to type because my hands can keep up with my thoughts.

I actually had some kind of I-don’t-know-what on Friday morning.  I went to see medical Thursday night and the guy that has been there both times I have had my seizures asked me if I felt like I was going to have one.  I said I don’t know.  I don’t know how to tell.  He said that they want to be ready because I get hit with one I get hit hard.  He wouldn’t let me take a shower that night, told me I should go to bed and even had me put my mattress on the floor.

I told them not going to do anything dumb, but I wish I would just go to bed and not wake up anymore cause I just don’t want to deal with my head anymore.

I know, I get it, I just get so lonely and feel so forgotten all the time, you know, my family don’t really have any time to write or any thing like that.  I get it – people’s lives don’t stop because I’m in prison.

Well, I am gonna head to bed.  Hope to hear from you guys again soon.

Peace,

Arline

Hey people.

Holy fuck. Done thought you died!  I hear that, about “Horror shows.”  Bout time you guys wrote to me.  Beginning to think you forgot all of the conversations we’ve all had.  I never heard from anyone.

Everything is going okay here, I mean, as good as it can be, right?  Nope.  Not that I know about the strike situation, but I could be wrong there.

I would still like to crochet hats for the homeless.

I mean, I am as well as I can be.  I felt like I was forgotten by everyone.  I wrote to Fuzzybear and Sarah a while ago.  I was waiting for a response from them.  I assumed that they didn’t want to write me anymore, either.  I will send them a line.  I would like to talk to all of you guys over the phone, but lack of funds there.  Hopefully whenever I get some money I can set up a time to call and talk with you guys.  It’s cool bout being a long time.

Give me a shout back.

Peace,

Arline

 

 

I am going to tell you about me when I was a child. I grew up in Baring Maine. There, according to the Census Bureau, there on the plantation, this has a total area of 24.1 square miles. 20.9 square miles of it is land, and 3.2 square miles of it is water.

Now, on with my story, we were poor. I mean, at lest that is what the government thought because we were below the poverty line. I can remember my Mimi and I would pick berries: blackberries, raspberries, etc. We would get as much as we could and take them back home. We made jam out of them and of course froze some for making jam another day. The jam was divided between my families. We all worked together to feed the families. There wasn’t any of this “Oh well, you ain’t got nothing to eat? Well, sorry about your bad luck.”

We had pigs down back in the barn. They would get out and ear the rotten apples that had fallen off the tree which we picked to make things like apple pie and other apple based deserts. The pigs would get drunk from the fermented apples and stumble all over the place. I remember when we got the pigs. I made the mistake of naming one of them. Big mistake. I, being a little kid, had no idea that the pig’s future was they are going to be put into our freezers to feed us for winter.

My Uncle Bubba chased me and my kind-of-cousin around with a pig head. That was very..ahh, shall we say, frightening experience to say the least, considering that I was about six years old. I remember there was a big garage beside Mimi and Bampy’s house. We used to go over to Uncle Bubba’s house to play games and what have you. I wouldn’t go outside and walk past the garage due to the fact that the pigs were hanging upside down out there to let the blood drain.

Well, we had four pigs and we kept one female pig for breeding s we didn’t have e to buy the pigs again because they were expensive. We divided the meat up between the five different houses and that was that for the meat. Of course there were other things that were shot and put into the freezer: deer, quail, beaver, fox – you get the picture. There were not too many animals that we wouldn’t catch to putin the freezer.

Out to Bruno’s house there were three great big gardens for us. He had lots of space for the gardens. Mimi, Bruno and Uncle Jack each had one to take care of. Of course though there were us kids and the rest of the family. We would bring in the crops from the gardens can some of the baggies and freeze what-have-you and once again the product was split between the families.

We made money by raking blueberries and making wreaths. Everything that was made was made by hand. I remember making bows out of spools of red velvet like ribbon. I would make hundreds of them. That is how we got our clothes for school. Or at least for winter. We had hand-me-downs, from Uncles, cousins – you get where I am going with this. We would go to places like Marden’s and hit places like Ames when there were a bunch of clearance racks. I know a lot of people wouldn’t do that, but what choice did we have? We needed clothes for winter and summer.m

My mom and uncles and grandparents all raked blueberries to get clothes and school supplies for all us kids. There were a total of fifteen of us kids to get stuff for school. That was a lot of stuff, you know. Backpack, clothes, notebooks, all that fun stuff and new clothes or clothes that had been made to look like something new. What I mean is there would be clothes that had holes in them in the knees and what have you. My family would cut off the legs at the knees and cut the crotch out of them and then sew material up each side of the legs to make a skirt. You know what I mean, we refurbished material so it didn’t look like we were poor and couldn’t always get the expensive clothing the other kids were getting.

I can remember my uncles, cousins and grandfather would go tipping (picking brush) for people up in other places that aren’t the country. I guess that “tipping” to most people is tipping over cows. They call it brushing up here in the not-redneck land, I guess.Yeah, I am a redneck and I am damn proud to be. You will never meet a better bunch of people than the people who don’t have a whole lot to begin with. I was raised that you do anything that you can do to help out others.

I would even give someone who is much older and smaller than me my sweatshirt when we get called out to do fire drills. She would refuse it most of the time, but I would take my sweat shirt and wrap it around her and kind of like, hug her, for my God, she is over 70, you know? I also string and do facials and stuff like that in here for the women. Some of the other women in here say that I should charge for my services. I say, “No,” that is not the way I was raised. If I can’t do something nice for someone to make them feel pampered and better about themselves where it doesn’t happen all that often.

Why don’t you just back off, you know? In return it makes me feel better about myself for changing something about them, like I used to do with tattooing. I mean, what the fuck. Then they say that this is prison and it is a hustle. That people don’t do that shit for nothing. I say that I am not people and if that is what I choose to do in my spare time then that is my prerogative. Correct.

Okay, back to the reason why I started to write this piece. I know that we didn’t always have the latest DVD player or computer or what-have-you, when I was a child, but I can tell you something – though we might not ave had everything that we wanted, we damn sure had everything that we needed. Each of the different families would make sure that if they got one thing for one of the kids then until they had one for each of us, no one would get said item. No one made you feel like you didn’t matter to them because with my family, blood is thicker than water.

Love ya,

Arline

Hi everyone.

I love the sound of doves cooing, and their… I guess you would say their growling noises at each other.  Specially when they are fighting over a cheese puff.  See, my doves loved cheese.  I also love the sound of a loon’s cry and the crow’s caw, the owl’s “who” and the hummingbird’s flutter of their tiny wings as they collect nectar from the flowers.  The talking of my friend’s African Grey.  She whistles, counts and screams at you when you come into the house, unless you give her a Ritz.

I love the sound of a tattoo machine, cuz it means that when that tat is all done and finished there will be a beautiful design.  I love the sound of the bubbler fish tank.  In fact, that is what I used to listen to, to fall asleep.  Now, I listen to my fan.  Te sound of water running down a waterfall.  The ocean crashing into shore as I run across the sand with my son.  The thunder as it rumbles the Earth, and the rain down pouring on the ground.  Each has a different sound whether it is concrete, grass, tar or dirt; I love the sound of it all.

Lastly, I love the sound of All that Remains’ “the waiting one.”  Cross fades: “Cold.  Avenged Sevenfold: “Nightmare.”  Any and all music by Trapt, Nirvana, Cradle of Filth, Five Finger Death Punch, Chimera, Type O’ Negative, System of the Down.  Most music in general, especially music in musicals like “Repo, the genetic Opera,” and “Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street.”

Finally, I love the sound and the laughter of my son.

Arline “Mourning Dove” Lawless

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MCC: The Kiddy Camp of Sex Offenders

Hey blog readers, it’s Sundog stil coming to you live at MCC, the kiddy camp for sex offenders.

It’s still unreal to me the special treatment they get. But my venting today is not about the skinners, it’s about another crazy roomate, well, cellmate. I come home today to find a message for me. It said, “I hate Faggots.” Yes in 2010 we still live in an insecure world. Fuckin hick named “Mike Monk” He is a lobstering fool. He is twenty-five years old with a girlfriend who looks like a man. He’s fuckin bipolar just like all the rest of them that I’ve roomed with. I have two months left. Maybe he’ll get a leg caught in a lobster trap and drown. Prejudice mother fucker. Why is haters still alive? Stop the fucking hate! I do not hate him, I loath him. I despise him! But I don’t hate him. Good luck buddy on the probation. Karma’s a bitch like I’ve said before. I strongly believe in “what comes around goes around” That goes for Mr. Back Stabber and all the ignorant workers of MCC. If you’re a bigot CO please go back to your little lives. Take a fuckin bus to the land of Fuck Yourself. I have to put up with COs making gay remarks. Not to me but standing directly beside me. Gotta have to say hey “Eclaire” lay off the free meds. I see you high all the time. Karma brings closure for me! You know, “eclaire” hasn’t been getting high any more, it was just in the summer.

Do you think they (the state workers) get drug tested? Probably not. Go away, bigots, the world doesn’t need your impure thoughts and racism anymore!

There’s always a rainbow after the rain.

Yours truly,

– Sundog

ray

Hey, Circle,

Today would have been my Bampi’s birthday.  But, since he has passed on, I guess he won’t be getting older, huh?  I called you guys around 7:30 pm earlier, but no answer.  Don’t know if there is a specific time I should call or what, but I tried and I will again in a day or so.

When I didn’t hear from anyone for a few days I was worried that I had did something to piss you guys off.  But, thank God, just a big worry wart, I guess.

As far as writing goes, I do, or did take writing classes, but I have always loved to write, even before I got arrested.  I am working on a memoir of the Arline Lawless story.

My son, Damien, is doing good.  He starts tutoring on the 11th.  He is a little handsome devil.  He looks just like me.  When I get rich and famous I will send you guys a picture of our visit in May.

I have P.T.S.D.  When a door slams, it sends me into a panic attack.  Guess that has to do with the gunshot wound to the face, but hey, I am also afraid to get into a relationship for fear that the same thing will happen.  I talk to mental health a lot.  I think I might have sensory problems too.

What do you think of that?

Love,

Arline

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As spring rapidly approaches, I once again find myself in the mood for a good spring-cleaning.  However, inasmuch as I am a guest a the “Little Hilton on the Hill” (M.C.C.) and have little to clean of my own, I have decided to do spring cleaning for others.  Yep, ol’ Bob Wire has decided to clean the skeletons out of the closet of M.C.C.  Further, in the tradition of the great gossip columnists I will clean out the closet in the form of “Ask Bob Wire” (I am, after all, a man-in-the-know, here at the Hilton.)

Disclaimer:  I cannot say with 1000% certainty that what follows is actually true, but this I can say:  a rumor is not a rumor that will not die!

Dear Bob Wire:  Is it true that a female C.O. here at M.C.C. made a sex video for the Internet off her getting the shit fucked out of her by a dog? Sincerely, Inmate X

Dear Inmate X:  That rumor is patently FALSE… it was vaginal sex.

Dear Bob W:  I was told that there was an inmate in here who actually once saw a female C.O. do a strip act at Pure Platinum in Portland.  Is there any truth to that rumor?  Thanks, Inmate Y.

Dear Y: That rumor is false!  All one has to do is look at the C.O. in question to know that can’t be true, for the C.O. is less than 300lbs and has her teeth.  What kind of strip act would that be?  Duh!

Dear Bob Wire:  Is there any truth to the rumor that in 2007 a staff member here was caught with child porn on their computer?  Thanks, Inmate Geek.

Dear Geek:  It is true!  But, in the defense of the individual involved the pictures were rumored not to be for him, but for a calendar in a couple of dorms here at M.C.C.  Good question.  Keep sending them.

Dear BW:  Is it true that from time to time that C.O.’s   h  ave been inclined to bang female inmates at M.C.C.?  Thanks again, Bob Enzyte.

Dear Chubby:  That is a very good question indeed.  Yes!  In 2007, a couple of C.O.s were fired for having sex with female inmates.  It is a fetish sweeping the nation.  It’s called captive sex!

Dear Bob:  Is it true that one time a member of the medical staff was fired for possession of cocaine and other narcotics while on duty?  Thank you, Ted Blow

Dear TB: Yes!  2007 was a very good year for C.O.’s thinking they are “all that” and above everybody else.  Ooooops!!

Dear BW:  Who is watching the watchers here at M.C.C.?  John

Dear John:  Beats the shit out of me!  I guess there are things that even the gods cannot understand!

Well, that is it for this months “Ask Bob Wire.”  Keep the questions coming, because if ol’ Bob here can’t find out (or make up) the good answers, nobody can!

Readers of my blogging often write me and say (actually, they write these things, not say them, just for the record) things like: “Bob Wire you’re a pretty negative dude.”  Yet others write “Who stuck a stick up your ass to get you so pissed off at M.C.C.?”  Still others write:  “Bob, I could so do you in the ass right now!”  Okay, okay, the last one I made up, but it is lonely here!  However the point is this: people think I am a negative kind of guy!!

HELLO!!!  ME??? NEGATIVE???

Okay, I can be a bit negative, but I also have a positive side.  To show the world the wonderfully positive Bob Wire, I will expose Super Positive Bob to the blogging world.  I am going to make Norman Vincent Peale look like a prophet of doom.  To expose my positive outlook in the blogging world I thought I might offer MCC suggestions for the better operation of the facility.  Pissing and moaning aside, Here I Go!

To the medical department:  read the labels on the inmate’s prescription cards.  I think you will find that they do not prescribe taking the medication at 7:30 am, 10:30 am and 10 pm.  see the problem here?  Three fucking hours between the first and second taking and 12 HOURS TIL THE THIRD… Hello!  Is it that hard to give the inmates their meds on a schedule that has the semblance of sanity attached to it?

To the administration:  in an attempt to save money, I suggest the following:  get rid of the C.O.(s) at Sally Port; leave the gates wide open.  What are you afraid of anyway?  That an inmate might escape from one fenced-in area with razor wire to another fenced-in area with razor wire?  The money saved on not having one C.O. could provide bologna sandwiches one day a week at chow…

To the Chow Hall:  Keep you know who (J.R. – dorm 5) last in line at chow.  No one likes his nose dripping all over everything including the food in the salad bar, the tables, the food line… nasty… you guys know his nose drips everywhere; do something about it… fucking nasty.

To the guys that plow snow:  try to put the fucking snow plow down on the ground when plowing.  It is fucking bad enough that we have to walk everywhere improperly dressed for the weather; we should not have to use our sneakers to pack the fucking snow down…

To those in charge of the living quarters:  Stand up to the punks, for God’s sake.  Who is running this shit hole anyway?

Well, that was fun.  I got to be Mr. Positive and if the powers to be are like me (and I would like to think they are), they will take these suggestions to heart and we can all live happier, healthier lives together.

Bob Wire

Hi, Circle.

Here’s more on stress here, and ways of coping.

We have a gym here, the only downside to that is there is only space for about three people to do a workout video.  There is also exercise equipment, you know, like the elliptical, bicycles, tread climber, and of course yoga mats and exercise balls.  Once again, there is not enough room for more than three to four people to work out in there at a time unless you are over in the corner on one of the machines.  We have some very dedicated women who work out faithfully everyday here.  Which is fine, but what about people who want to try to get their body back and just try to be as healthy as they can be?  There is neither time not space for them to do that, and if they work, the net day working out at ten o’clock at night is just not really in the cards for them.

We also have a rec yard.  You have to walk to circle twenty six times to have walked a mile.  WE have a volleyball net and a basketball net.  I like to play volleyball and basketball on the outside but not on the inside.  See, I don’t like to go outside because we are fenced in and we have barbed wire on the top of the fence.  I imagine that it is like that in other prisons (!) However, when you have twenty-five years or so left it can be a little depressing.  We can also play cards and buy our own decks, but how many times can you play spades or cribbage?  I mean, it is fine for the time being, but playing it repeatedly can get a little monotonous.  Don’t get me wrong though, I like to play card games.  We even make up our own card games.

We also have a library where people can take out up to four books at a time.  I have read a good amount of books since I have been here.  I have a big reading list also, but many of the books on my list cost money, which is something that I don’t have for such frivolous items.  Women here have televisions, radios, CD players, and of course there are that few that have Play Station 2s.  Once again, I am not one of those lucky women.  I have a radio, but that’s about it.

I love to crochet; in fact, I was in the process of making thread bags with little pictures graphed into them.  I made blankets with pictures, or words graphed into them also.  However,the thing that I like the most is graphing with thread.  I really like a challenge; the more difficult the task is the more I tend to like it.  That’s a big stress reliever for me.  I am trying to do independent study so I can have a career when I am released.  I love to learn new things (I guess you could say that I’m a bit of a nerd.)  I would love to study ornithology and maybe someday get to work with birds.

Lastly, the ways that most women cope with stress here is keeping contact with the outside world.  I know that I try to keep contact with the outside world a lot.  I just wan to know that someone on the outside is still thinking about me.  It seems like to most women here that they are forgotten about most of the time.  That is why a lot of women look for pen pals to correspond with; that way they can feel like they are still loved and that people actually care about them.  I know that having a pen-pal that would like to get to know me and maybe even go further when I get out has made my stress level decrease a hell of a lot.

Write me!

Love,

Arline

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Welcome to the blog from inmates of Maine's jails and prisons.

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