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Hi.

I have a clean slate and I want to stay that way.  I also have a sponsor and I”m doing the steps.  This place is only what you make it.  Me, I want to leave a better person with no baggage.

A while back my roommate and I  made peanut butter balls.  We’re gonna make popcorn balls.

I had five months county and Pete held me up.  He really wanted me to do county time, but I wanted out.  The kennebec county jail was really bad.  Thank God I worked in laundry.  They have me on the shoveling crew, but I’m trying to get a medical slip where I have screw in my right foot.  Remember that I broke it and you guys saw me wearing an air boot?

Love,

Miss Linda

Hello, is there anyone out there? Remember me? It’s X-Ray from York County Country Club Jail of America. Well, I put that crazy question out to you all because of my loneliness I’m going through. I’m like a very beautiful Rose stuck inbetween Sixteen thorns, I live in the land of misfits and being normal is overrated. Well, to them. I’m one to sit back, smoke a joint, and watch a favorite movie or two. Instead, I have to listen to a bunch of middle-aged men bitch and complain daily about stupid things. Why, if these men are so tough and set in their ways, do they need to gossip? It’s like worse than my local salon. No kidding. Or worse: “High School!” Ewwww.

I’m stuck in this so-called jail / kidding camp resort for the next six months. It’s actually a great thing for people who have no brains and depend on food stamps. Yeah, it’s a total joke. We have a full size sandy volleyball game area, as soon as you step out the door. To your right, you have the horseshoe pit. And of course, a full size gym. The only thing we are missing is a swimming pool. Although I’ve put requests in for me. It’s very calming to know that someday I’m sure some idiot around here will probably but one in. Got to love the tax payers money going to good use!

I’m in a SCCP Dorm House with sixteen other men as I have mentioned. It’s a secure community confinement program. It’s basically a resort without family and booze. Fun times.

The food here is actually not bad. I can’t complain. I’ve managed to lose forty pounds on the stuff. I’m looking great. Feeling even better. Although I can’t seem to make any friends. So, I’ve put all my energy into walking three to four miles a day and working the body out in our state of the art gym. I’ve gots to do something to pass the time and talking about mudruns and nascar bub is not on my things to do list.

So, to be a little serious for a moment. Since I have had nothing, no booze or weed to hide my problems, I’m having to face them head on & alone. It’s scary when you go through such a change and have no one to trust. I’m not sure if I’m the loser for being here or if I’m in the running for the Biggest Loser. Trying to make an honest friend out of someone. Seems like I’ve def missed the boat on staying out of jail. Staying out of trouble. Hoping now I can redeem the help I need to make my life worth living.

So, I guess for the first time in my adult life, I’m finally dealing with my issues and problems SOBER. It’s very different. But necessary. I know that even though I’m doing this on my own, it will be worth it when I return to the public. Acceptance: a word I can’t get past. How my whole entire life has revolved around accepting myself and others accepting me. It’s been thirteen years since I came out of the closet and it seems like I’m back in it. Sometimes I feel ashamed and very worried. I’ll work on that!!!

I’m done pouting. I want to be funny again. OH, so I am a third baseman on our “softball team.” Yeah, go Dorm 3. I hit the ball and throw the ball and catch the ball, ummm yeah that’s that.

Last week, I planted four hundred flowers by hand. Four thirty-foot gardens. By HAND. When did men decide it’s too girly to help me out? Give me a break! I love them, it looks like a great big gay candy land of colorful flowers. Yeah, me! The one guy that did help me is Frankie! He is the resident guru.

It’s a game to see who can be the biggest hicks or the best jock, or the greatest geek. WTF. I’m trapped in a fucking bad High School Musical without the song & dance, lol! I have yet to find one honest person in here (I know it’s jail not Yale) But really, I act the sane way inside jail or outside jail. I don’t live like a shitbag, it’s just not in my cards.

The guys think they are even more cool ignoring me. Makes them feel manly. Makes me wonder about what’s really wrong with this picture. Yes, I’m talking about the hick men who bitch and complain daily like little school girls with pretty polka-dotted dresses. I landed here in this “savior program” three weeks ago. It is 100% better than York County. But then again, so would be Haiti.

So, let’s recap. I’m not gossiping, not ratting, not smelling and have lost forty pounds. I have a great tan, thanks to my walking ability I’ve had since birth. So, why am I not cool enough for guys I don’t like? Why do I need their acceptance? Why do I fight for acceptance? It’s very lonely going through these changes alone. I’m the only one that seems to think my life needs to change or I will be back. I’m 32 years young. And WTF do I want out of my life? Although it has been fun.

I want to rub Frankie’s head and make a wish. Ya right this is, “jail not Yale!” Just wish these men could take a program! Any suggestions?

I’m wishing and praying for an acceptance program or tolerance program for these meat heads. Sounds like I will even learn from it. Fuck the AA program. Um quitter!

I am missing my real friends and real family SO MUCH. I am thinking I am so glad to be given a chance to change my life. Happy, very happy. I never killed anyone while I was drinking and driving. “Lesson being learned.” Like all things, time will pass.

Finally to the one I have yet to meet as my life partner: Get ready for some lovin’.

Till next time, bloggers – Have a good one. Send me some good vibes!

From the MCC resort and tanning salon, MUAH…

– X-Ray!
Ray Munson
MDOC# 83366

P.S. Thanks Rage! Thanks to Lyssarian posting for me! xoxo

Hi, all. This is Ray, “Rage’s Roomie.” 113 York County Village. My address will soon be returning to Windham. Before I leave, I just want to say that being here has been quite the experience.

First and foremost, Don’t ever decide to order Anything off the menu here. Deff two thumbs down. It’s like we’re stuck in a bad dream without any delicious food. We can’t even get salt and pepper or condiments. What a rip off. I want my money back.

Second (“The cops and the COs”) should we just start by calling most of them Bad Cops and Bad COs? If your job is to watch inmates, #1 you shouldn’t be sneaking salt and pepper to the trustees. #2 you shouldn’t be chewing tobacco while on duty. After all, it’s a state wide law: no tobacco products even on the property. #3 you shouldn’t be using words you don’t understand, Anderson, “AKA Baconator.” He’s right up there of the worst Correctional Officer I think I’ve encountered. Stealing the flowers we’ve made here and I don’t believe as an authority to Us. He shouldn’t be using the words Fag and Shitbag. Fucking Blanket Nazi and Flower Nazi. Grow up and do the job the tax payers are paying you to do.

Another shitbag is Gallager. “AKA – the Ultimate Flower Nazi.” But like all things that are true and honest in life, you can’t stop the Revolution of toilet paper flowers. By the way, they sell quite well.

Now let’s turn our attentin to “Turner.” AKA “Hotdog.” AKA “Good Cop.” He’s here to do a job and respect himself enough to know when enough is enough. I think he deserves a raise. He has totally gone out of his way to make my stay at the York Hilton much more tolerable, by having respect for us. We ARE still humans (well most of us). Thanks, Turner. Good luck on the raise.

So, let’s recap a little. We have scumbag guards who break the law and they get away with it. Then there is some decent Cops & COs that have to pick up their slack. What a bunch of retards.

Let’s talk about some inmates. We have the guys with “Needles” and drugs. The gamblers gone unnoticed, and the checking of the meds to sell. Yet the cops are worried about my fucking toilet paper flowers. What’s wrong with that picture?

Love the “intellectual” people at my table as well. We have the over-eaters and bitchers. We have a Native American, “Chief Wah Wah Wah” of the “Idon’twanna” tribe. He’s a beast from Hell and I can safely say, he’s a hater. Hater against gays, blacks and of course, himself. Fuck you, Tomoha.

– Ray

Derrick Gerrish, again!

Why are females rarely even arrested for domestic abuse?

I was a victim of domestic abuse:

I woke up one morning to my girlfriend breaking my glass entertainment center and TV. I tried to get her to leave, and she wouldn’t: she started attacking me with a hot hair straightening iron, clawing and kicking me. She kicked me in my groin and bit me in the face! I called the police and reported a domestic. I went to the bathroom to look in the mirror and when I came out, she had left.

So I started walking to my dad’s, the police pulled over and started questioning me. I told them, they seen the marks and the blood on my face. They took pictures and another officer went to get her side of the story. She admitted to badgering me, but said it was self-defense, because I was choking her in a  snow bank. The officer that stayed with me let me go on account I was the victim.

I was eating breakfast at a diner with my father when they barged in and arrested me in front of a dozen people. They said I was the “perp” in the domestic. She had no marks, I had tons and I was the one who called 911.

I spent 2 months in YCJ, come to find out the officer advised her if she didn’t want to go to jail, she would have to write a statement saying exactly what he told her to say.

If that’s not a problem with our system, then what is?

Or maybe it was the DA’s negligence to hear my defense.

My defense is simple: How could I choke her in a snow bank when it happened inside my house? Also, if I did choke her why was there no marks? And how could I have so many marks and blood if it was self-defense? And how did she bite me if I was choking her? The DA didn’t want to hear it and gave me the ultimatum of taking 60 day or risk getting 6 months taking it to trial.

Wow, what a “system.”

– Derrick Gerrish

My name’s Charles Manson and I’m at York County Jail.

I am very hungry. The State has very strict guidelines as far as nutrition & caloric intake. At York County Jail, the caloric intake per day, per meal, does not meet the state guidelines. Even the COs here are appalled. There is no excuse to be stingy with food when COs end up throwing away at least 20 trays a day.

And, since YC is the only jail in the state which takes from 8-10 hours to release an inmate, they end up feeding them! Give them their personals and release them! Maybe York County has too much money, housing state inmates as well as county.

Maybe it’s time to fix this. It’s time for a change.

– Charles Manson

This is inmate Robert “Scarface” Bartlett / 32270

In my last Pol Pris entry I was pretty harsh, yes, indeedy. (I am very black & white, not only in the mindset of a criminally insane addict, but also as they have been towards us.)

But – we do have friends wearing coats white, black, blue, brown and red. Today I want to send out warm fuzzies to the librarians @ York County Jail. Not only did they go out of their way in giving me a full printout of Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl,” but even further – they printed me out the instructions for Parts VII & VIII of the form 1023 which, with painful difficulty (4 months worth!) I’ve had trying to wrench it from the outside world, you would imagine it was some ancient Holistic cuniform text, resting in the lost tomb of Otis Porkmeyer & guarded by 30 chaotic evil 7th level clerics.

Thank you, Oh Anonymous
York County Librarian!

– Robert Bartlett

My name is Ray Munsan, aka X-Ray. My MDOC# is 1583366. I’m at YCJ.

So – Officer Gallager ‘formerly a lieutenant in  York County Jail is now the new flower nazi. Instead of busting these guys in jail with syringe’s and coke/crack, suboxone, &c, he’s stealing our flowers that my celly and I have made. Carnations and roses. They take a long time which keeps us busy for the most part. But he isn’t giving up.

They allow gambling in  York County Jail, which results in fights. Aside from the drugs and the gambling they seem to play dumb when certain things are not done the way they should be. They play favorites. It’s hard to contemplate that Gallager & the Plumber get off taking our flowers that we’ve made. Meanwhile not causing fights or arguments and keeping quietly to ourselves.

What’s wrong with this picture?

We make the flowers from fruit punch and toilet paper. Nothing from the outside world. What a jack-ass! What possesses this guy? Was he trapped in a greenhouse as a young child? Did an evil stepfather make him tend to the flower garden while forbidding him to play baseball with the neighbor kids? Perhaps he has a problem with instant carnation breakfast or Rosie O’Donnell.

Most officers here are way cool. Not Gallager & the Baconater, though. They’re flowers! Gosh!

Thank you.

– Ray Hunsan

This is Derek Gerrish writing you.

The “system” in Maine is most definitely absurd. Well, maybe not all of Maine, and maybe not for everybody. I can only speak for myself from my own experiences. I’m an average-looking 20 year old white male, 5′ 6″, 150 lbs at most nothing unordinary or anything that should stick out to the Sanford Police but they still seem to have a “hard-on” for me. I’m involved in the system because of a few domestic disputes between my girlfriend’s mother and myself.

Let’s start out at the very beginning to get the big picture here.

Back in ’07, my girlfriend and I started dating, I soon moved in with her at her mother’s house. Sharon, my girlfriend’s mother, adored me, what was there not to like? I worked full time, made good money, and took great care of her daughter, Sashia, and Sashia’s 1 year old.

After a couple months, we decided to get our own place. So the three of us, Sashia, her daughter, and myself moved out. I furnished the whole apartment, I paid the rent and all the bills. I was still very close with Sharon. I bought her tons of furniture from Ashleys, enough to furnish her whole house also. I took Sharon to dinner almost every night. I spent more time with Sharon than I did her daughter!

Soon after, I lost my job.

Sharon tried getting Sashia to leave me. And Sashia wouldn’t. So Sharon started to call DHS on us, making false accusations of me being abusive and a drug dealer! So DHS got involved, and without any proper investigation of the claims, not even talking to me to evaluate and access, they tell Sashia her daughter is not allowed around me! They called me a “danger to her safety…” And said if her daughter were around me, they would take her away, all because of a few  bogus reports.

Sashia and I still continued to see each other, she moved in to her mom’s and came over without Savannah. So what does Sharon do to push the issue of a break-up? She gets a restraining order on me. Now, Sharon would follow me, harass me, and show up places where I already was. She started making bogus calls to the police saying that I was making contact with her!

I was incarcerated several times on a he-says-she-says story with no witnesses or proof.

After that I’m on bail conditions, and every single time I walk through town, I’m immediately pulled over, and searched. This happened at least 20 times in one month, no exaggeration. Due to Sharon’s false claims, they labelled or “stereotyped” me as a drug dealer and harassed me whenever they got the chance. And due to her false accusation, I spent more than 4 months in York County Jail, 3 of which her daughter was pregnant with my first child.

Not only was I unjustly accused of abuse, negligence, and ignorance of the law by Sharon, I was also automatically presumed guilty, not only by the Sanford Police, but by DHS on false claims. I’ve lost my step-daughter and 4 months of my life —

and now DHS is saying I won’t be able to see my newborn because of all the stuff Sharon has started!

This is not right. Please help.

– Derek Gerrish



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

In collaboration with the Holistic Recovery Project, the Political Prisoners Blog provides a prisoner's view into what's happening at Maine's correctional facilities.

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