(I want my, I want my MTV)
Now look at them yo-yo's that's the way you do it
You play the guitar on the MTV
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Money for nothin' and chicks for free
Now that ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Lemme tell ya them guys ain't dumb
Maybe get a blister on your thumb
Yeah buddy that's his own hair
That little faggot got his own jet airplane
That little faggot he's a millionaire
I shoulda learned to play them drums
Look at that mama she got it stickin' in the camera man
We could have some fun
And he's up there, what's that?
Hawaiian noises?
Bangin' on the bongos like a chimpanzee
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Listen here
Now that ain't workin' that's the way to do it
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Money for nothin' and chicks for free
Money for nothin' chicks for free
Money for nothin' chicks for free
Money for nothin' chicks for free
Money for nothin' chicks for free
Money for nothin' chicks for free
Money for nothin' chicks for free
(Money for nothin' chicks for free) (I want my, I want my MTV)
(Money for nothin' chicks for free)
C.: Hey, d.c. what’ s going on at The Kennel?
d.: Whatever do you mean, Cal.E.?
C.: Well, when I went to work last night, I had to go through the shakedown area. It was no big deal, or so I thought, because I didn’t have anything on me that I wasn’t allowed to take inside of The Kennel. However, Officer Williams* told me that I couldn’t take my beet juice into The Kennel, because it was a dark-colored drink. I have never heard that from anyone else.
d.: Yes, Officer Williams* should be “put out to pasture.” He’s worked at The Kennel longer than anyone else, and he used to be our best officer. Since his illness, he only works on weekends and holidays. It seems that, since he got sick, he’s forgotten more than he ever knew! And, it’s impossible to argue with him, because he’s been doing his job so long that he thinks he knows all the rules by heart. He doesn’t. The rule is that you must bring all food and drink into The Kennel in clear containers. As long as those containers aren’t made of glass or contain alcohol, you’re okay.
C.: Well, he let me get in this time, but said to never bring it in again. I can’t do my job without my “special formula” beet juice. Since Officer Williams* works all weekends and holidays, I suppose that he will be put in the shakedown area again. What do I do if he’s checking for contraband?
d.: You can email the warden–
C.: I don’t have access to the mainframe computer
d.: You could talk to your supervisor–
C.: I’m the supervisor of the cell and cage cleaners! Honestly, as many officers as they have sitting around just goofing off, can’t they put someone else in that area?
d.: I know how you feel. I often must wait on security to send an officer for up to 45 minutes after I open up medical. They claim that no one is available to work in the medical department, but there are night shift officers taking naps when I come into the building. They could wake one of them up and send him or her into medical until the day shift is through with their shift briefing. And many of the day shift officers spend more time in the medical facility than at their assigned posts! One of them could be the “officer of record,” I think. I suppose they get comfortable at our kennel, because the inmates aren’t going anywhere, and they know it!
C.: True. I left a cell door open by mistake when I was done cleaning it the other night. The inmate simply walked up to the cell door and closed it. They know that they are about to get out, so these inmates don’t want to do anything to jeopardize getting out on their release date. It seems like a super easy job, working in security at our kennel. But, d.c., don’t some of the officers make as much in salary as you do, even though most probably only have a high school education and you graduated from college and nursing school as well?
d.: That’s true. If an officer has been at The Kennel for more than ten years, s/he got a huge raise last year. That proves that life isn’t fair. I have another story to prove that as well.
When I was working at a higher-level unit, the security staff was making a video for the new inmates about what not to do. They needed an inmate to volunteer to be the “bad inmate,” so our SSI said he would help. The Kennel doesn't usually assign inmates they don’t trust to come into medical and clean up. They would be too close to medicine and protected information; so this wasn’t a bad inmate. He was playing a role. An officer at the other end of the hall didn’t know that. All he saw was an inmate misbehaving, so he ran down the hallway and sprayed the inmate in the face with his mace. The inmate swore off helping security ever again.
C.: Well, I need to take a catnap before my shift starts tonight, so I’ll need to say “goodnight now.”
d.: Good night, sleep tight—
C.: Stop right there so that I will be able to sleep today!
*This is not his real name, although I’m sure that more than one Officer Williams works in the prison system in Texas. Also, my son’s cat is still dead and was never able to talk. As far as I or anyone in my family knows, she was born right here on this planet, and probably never ventured to the Greater Baltimore-Washington D.C. area. Also, the real Cal.E. never had any kittens (much less fourteen) nor married a tomcat named Tom. This is a fictional blog with fictional characters.
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