Oh my faithful minions, my true and ardent followers, your cries have not gone unnoticed, you voices were heard even into the highest pinnacles of heaven for the most high has heard your cries and taken pity on the souls of men. Yeah, for this day the Most High called, the Most High spoke these words “Jesus Christ Wire, wake up and write something for God’s sake, there is only so much I can take from your whining ass followers!” I spoke oh Most High, I have heard your call, and I will bare this cross, this burden if it be your will. “bob, bob, all I want you to do is just write something so these minions will stop hounding the shit me.” “Yes Lord”, I spoke, “but what shall I say for I have not written them for a fortnight. “Bob, Bob, What do you want me to write it too. Your the one who started this, tell them what ever the fuck you want”… I hear you lord, I will obey, enough already”… So hear it goes my faithful ones, in a little piece called “From the High Wire”.
First, For those of you who still recall the pissing and moaning of Mrs. Wire, and how I fucked up her life by coming to prison, and how I was so much better off, then she…yah right… well here it come my friends, hold on to your butts. Mrs Wire has flown the coop, moved on, hit the road as she left me in the dust, while skipping out on me with 1000 dollars I’d swindled the state out of… it works for me folks, now I don’t have to think of her sister, I Mrs. Wire, when I masturbate… Whoo hoo… Three day weekend…
Secondly, I don’t think a courteous flush does much, flush all god damned day and shit still smells like shit.
Next, This whole washing ones hands after the fowl necessity of pissin’ and shittin’, That doesn’t do much for me either. This is how i look at it, I shower, scrub the goods, and go on my merry way, touching this, touching that, scratching this, scratching that, I mean I have no idea where my hands have been half the time. So I take my filthy fingers, grab my nice clean junk and get it dirty. It seems to me I should me washing my dick in stead of my hands…Right?
Further, I think this round bar hotel, which we affectionately call The Round-Bar-Hotel (Maine Correctional Center) is a better place for my being here, for my contributions, my insight, my humor, my guidance and direction, and my tripping that guy with the walker thingy, the guy no-one likes… in all seriousness folks, this little Hilton on the hill has gotten better since the early days. since those glory days, when ol’ bob wire rallied the troops and shit on MCC. Frankly I hope the place sinks into the depth if hell on December 21st… Oh, by the way, if you happen to run into Mrs. Wire, tell her to go fuck herself.