Orange is NOT My New Black

I know it has been a while since you have heard from me. I do apologize. But if you follow my blog, you would have known that I have been in the big house recently for murder.

They have finally released me on good behavior. I know to you humans, it has only been about two short weeks that I have been jailed, but in dog years, that equals about two years.

Thank goodness I am out. Orange just wasn’t my color, and that crap they were feeding me in there was literal dog food –  No, not the high end kibble I am used to. It was giving me some serious digestive problems, if you know what I mean. And for some of you that are kind of slow on grasping things, the food in there gave me the serious shits… Oh, yea, I also learned that word in there. No one says poop or even crap. No, in there you have to seem tough and bad to the bone, or you just won’t make it.

While I was in there, I also got some ink. Yea, my cell mate Butch knew a guy named Spike – a real artistic fellow. I’m not sure how he got the tools to give me the tattoo. I think he said something about keistering it in from the outside. Not sure what that means, but it seemed pretty sanitary, and Spike seemed like a gentle soul, so I let him go for it. He did have a tear drop tattoo coming down from his right eye. I figured that meant he was a softy, so him holding a needle to my body, really didn’t phase me.

Don’t worry, I did get something tasteful. I got the typical tough guy tattoo – you know the word “MOM” written in bold inside a heart. I did get a few spikes added around the heart. Needed to be a little bit manly so that no one would dare to mess with me in there. 1. Because they know I have a mom waiting on me back home and 2. Because they see those spikes and they know I mean business. Plus, the spikes were added for free. It is kind of Spike’s signature for every tattoo he does. How else do you think he got that nickname. Well, I also heard a rumor that he shanked people on the street with spikes, but I try not to think about people in here like that. Otherwise, you would probably never leave the cell due to fear.

I also took some classes in my spare time. I wanted to come out more educated. I took an Algebra I class just because I had nothing better to do on Mondays at 3 pm, and I also threw in a Spanish class on Wednesdays. I mean Spanish is a growing language in our country. Taco Bells are popping up everywhere these days, so I wanted to be able to go in there and order with confidence. It was also because I was obsessed with that new Spanish Justin Beiber song, and I wanted to know what the heck he was saying. Let’s just say, that song is kind of dirty. Definitely not something I am going to go home and share with my mother.

I also learned to play some serious hoops. Like the NBA has nothing on the basketball players that prison has. In fact, I think in order to be successful in the NBA, the players need to spend some time on the inside and learn how to actually play the game. I mean, Lebron James is okay, but he couldn’t even compete with the guy we call “Three Point Joe.”

And although I have evolved as a dog by being in prison, I am ready to be out in the real world again. I can’t wait to cuddle with my mom – I will probably wait  a little bit to show her the tattoo. Although, I might want to show her sooner than later, because I do have a weird, burning rash forming around it.

I also can’t wait to sink my teeth into some Fat Angelo’s pizza. Yea, I’ve been having dreams about it every night. I actually think that will be the first thing I request upon my arrival home.

Finally, I just can’t wait to finally chase some serious tail. I know I am a good looking canine, but once you get that “bad boy” image, you pretty much become irresistible to the opposite sex. Plus I can whisper a little Justin Beiber Spanish in their ears: Quiero desnudarte a besos despacito. Firmo en las paredes de tu laberinto.Y hacer de tu cuerpo todo un manuscrito (And that’s just a taste). If you want to know what that little line means, Google translate it, but do not tell my mom I am saying things like that. However, I know that will really get the ladies running in my direction.

So yea, you should be hearing more from me now since I am out of the big house. I am still on parole for another year, so I can’t kill any more birds or even try to attack any more cats until then, but I still can blog all I want.

I know you’ve all missed me. But I am back, and this time, I am not going anywhere!

 

 

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