there once was a southern hippie
of whom a judge said “to jail with ye!”
30 days this time
time enough to rhyme
and with limmericks bury the poor SMDB.
Hey, I’m getting better!
pats self on back
Good luck. Probably the one place in the world you won’t want friends.
SDMB
This is why I’m normally asleep now. I’m sure ya’ll will just make the substution and keep moving along.
I haven’t had my coffee yet this morning. Can this wait til later?
BTW, as stated in an earlier thread, I already sent you a letter before you posted that you weren’t going to be incarcerated for another month. Are they holding your mail for you? They haven’t returned my letter yet.
Okay, I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes trying to come up with a damn limerick and…nothing! I suck at this and I apologize! I work in a hospital–this isn’t exactly a happy, fun, wit-inspiring place to be!
I asked in the other thread and I don’t know if it ever got answered but I’ll ask again since I’m here.
Did you find out how long the sentence is for?
What is considered “contraband”? I mean, I know we can’t send you hack saws and lock-picking equipment but can we send you magazines, books, porn, food, pictures, etc?
Should we send you self-addressed stamped envelopes? Will you be writing back?
Hopefully, you will get to answer these questions!
Even if not, rest assured you will receive much mail during your unfortunate hiatus!
And will they read your letters? (If in an envelope)
TNHipp, my dear:
If I can quickly learn to impart
In paper the alchemist’s art,
The letter I’ll send,
Your mind it will bend,
And the Time spent will seem
Like a lark.
And even without the onyond imprint, I’ll see to it that some words fly through the Babylon system and into yer hands in the hoosegow. Best thoughts to you, Proud American.
Well, this isn’t a Limerick, but knowing TH’s taste he should appreciate it:
It was Christmas in prison
And the food was real good -
We had turkey and pistols
Carved out of wood.
Her heart is as big as
This whole Goddamn jail
And she’s sweeter than Saccharine,
At a drugstore sale.
Wait a while, eternity
Old mother nature’s got nothing on me
Come to me
Run to me
Come to me now
We’re going my sweetheart
We’re rolling by God.
The searchlight in the big yard
Swings 'round with the gun
And spotlights snowflakes
Like dust in the sun
It’s Christmas in prison
There’ll be music tonight
I’ll probably be homesick
I love you - Good night.
- John Prine
Take care, Tennhippie.