Shit. Back in this dump. Ain’t no way I’m gonna see “Idol” tonight. American Idol. Greatest country in the world. You gotta problem with that, Osama Hey Zeus, or whatever the hell your name is. This is Steeler country, man. You got that? Even my jail cell is Steeler country. Got me a Terrible towel dou-vay cover. Woo. Steelers. Sucks I’m in jail, though.

Can’t blame my public defender this time. Nope, he told me I was going back to jail. Still, I shouldn’t have pushed him over the desk in front of Judge Judy. But what the piss? Why’d he have to tell her I had rage issues. What kind of argument is that?

I told him to say I ain’t paying my child support ‘cause I’m not even sure those kids is mine. I mean, she already had Tito before I even met her. How come I gotta pay? And she was pregnant with Darlina after our second date. Fuzzy math, man. It don’t add up.

Plus, I’m not even sure I like women, you know what I’m sayin’? Like how come I keep ending up back in jail all the time? It ain’t co-ed or nothing. Plus that big guard said I’m a good kisser. My ex never paid me a compliment. Never told me I smelled pretty or that I looked good in my MacDonald’s uniform. Would it kill her to notice. Especially in front of the children.

Damn kids. Now I’m gonna have to pay like back support. What about my support. You know I’m gonna get demoted back to fries. Shit, I was an assistant manager. I got free refills anytime I wanted. ‘Nother Dr. Pepper? Hell, yes. Fry boy doesn’t get those kind of perks.

Still, I guess them kids are cute and all. Even if they don’t look like me. They spent 2 weeks with my mom and me over Christmas ‘cause BobbyJo went to Mexico with Howard. My mom made so many cookies those kids grew little pot bellies. They looked like cute little pot bellied pigs. ‘Cept Darlina cried when I said she looked like a pot bellied pig. And I was gonna hit her but my mom said maybe she’s crying ‘cause I called her mama a pig for going to Mexico with Howard.

So I said “fine” and I slammed the door and went to Woody’s to have a few rum and cokes with the boys. Too much estrogen in that house anyway. 3 year olds have a lot of that stuff. And don’t get me started on my mom.

She spent the whole 2 weeks yelling at me for beating Tito on the Xbox and eating cookies. Can I help it if I’m a superstar at blowing away zombies and Nazis and Zelda. Damn, I was all over that little shit. Me and the joy stick was one. I was like, Zoom, Pow, Zap. I don’t care if cookie crumbs got all over her precious couch. I was Del Fuego, man. I said, why can’t your stinky little dog eat up them crumbs. Which was stupid ‘cause that dog died 2 years ago on Christmas. Shit.

She started hitting me so hard with her electric broom and yelling that I blacked out. She was carrying on so much that the neighbors must have called the police. And guess who they hauled off to jail? Yeah, that’s right. An outstanding warrant on an old mari-juanita charge. Boo yah!

Of course, the public defender I had that time got me out ‘cause it was Christmas. I was just like that Scrooge son-of-a-bitch. I was like, boy, what day is today? And this dumb looking kid says, it’s day 8 of Chaunakah. And I was like, damn, the angels made me miss Christmas. But they didn’t ‘cause my mom made a ham and more cookies. She even bought me a sweater. Which was nice ‘cause I didn’t get her nothing since my wages had been garnished.

And now I’m back in here for 3 months. How will I ever pass the time? Guess I’ll head down to the gym and see if anybody wants to spot me. Hope Big Guard’s working today.

THE END