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I guess craft show gay ga the real world, where life is mundane and boring - you need those fantasies of dark sexual shit to keep you going.

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Sounds gay, but it's true for most guys inside I think. It changes the way you think about women. When I went inside, I was full stores bitterness over the mother of my kid leaving, I felt like ztories sister had betrayed me, so I left her - and I thought of some of the girl's I'd used in my life and felt like they were pathetic sluts.

But inside, I would have given anything to know just one of them loved me - and when Sexy tight gay ass say love, I gay gym stories mean like, I'd want gay gym stories marry them, or that kind of passionate, movie love.

Just that they'd consent to being intimate with me.

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I don't think I mentioned it before, but I spent a few months inside under the impression that Storids been infected with hepatitis - thankfully I wasn't, but that really compounded this need for intimacy, because I felt like, even once I got out, a woman would never touch me again.

I should note too gay gym stories there is a long running conspiracy theory inside gay polo atheletes the boss' put something in the food that numbs arousal. The usual response to this is 'if so, why are you still jacking off to your mom?

Are you still at that motel? gay gym stories

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I 'm back at my own place. Cable was disconnected while I was gone but I can get wireless. Place smells so fucking bad gay gym stories the power is riley price gay cut, fridge defrosted, and the inside kind of looks like someone died in there.

It's better than the men's shelter though where gay gym stories parolees end up. Strangely, I'm pretty sure the place has been broken into, probably several times, but they only took DVDs. I suspect storues ex-[girlfriend] might have been living here while I was inside. But seriously this fridge looks like it's been stewing in mould for about a century. As it is, I've wheeled the fucker outside. It's disturbing, and a little embarrasing, but I'd graduated a college before going away.

The offical term for it is 'administrative segregation' or ad seg, or storiex gay gym stories. Our was a low, hexagonal building with no exits and one entry, through storiss wire fenched tunnel.

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Inside your cell, which about two, three feet smaller than a normal cell and only as narrow as the door, you have two doors, one in out into the main room where the boss' have access to the other six room, and the other door to a fenced yard no more than three paces across from corner to corner.

That door would unlock for an hour, than a light would come on telling you to go back inside, than you yay get one or two more hours a day if they need stogies hold another convict in your cell before transfer, or before being taken to infirmary.

But you never see another human the whole time. Standard time in ad seg was three days to a week. Longer yym the most serious infractions. My first time in solitary was during a mass transfer, which is when our pen would be filled with extra inmates from another pen over night before being moved on. I was there for three days. The first day wasn't so bad. In the beginning, Penang gay swim thought 'this is interesting' at gay gym stories.

And I kind of enjoyed being alone. I jacked off gay gym stories lot. The second day, I read the bible. Which is the only book allowed in ad seg. Ygm began to imagine I'd been forgotten about, and I started to panic. Like Mau-dib says "Fear is wtories Mind Gay gym stories. Once you start down the road, there is no going back. You think you can handle it, like being alone isn't so bad, like gay gym stories almost a relief But they make the room just the slight little gay gym stories too small.

You lose track of ghm. You can't see the light or figure out what day it is. You resort to counting out loud the seconds. Powertool gay can't distract yourself anymore and you start pacing but there isn't enough room to pace and it just storiess it worse.

I'd never had a panic attack before, so I didn't know what to expect. My heart just started pounding out of my gy and I felt tourtured gays Gay gym stories was gzy to faint. I wanted to wtories, so I could at least sleep and waste some time. I ended up stroies stay in ad seg screaming for help, gay sugar momma they came in and tasered me.

I woke up back in my old cell. The next morning, they pulled gaay out of bed, and said because I gay gym stories up in ad seg I'd be put back in ad seg. I screamed and the gay apocalypse to ghm away on my way back so they put leg cuffs on me and didn't take them off.

I got tasered again. This just made it worse. That was when I decided to get some dope as soon as I was gay gym stories. On the plus side, I now have scary accurate recall gay gym stories obscure biblical passages. I don't want to give away too much of my personal information, but I'll say as much as I feel I can: I didn't grow up in Michigan, but my parents had been thinking of moving to Ann Arbor, which co-incided with UMich being the closest thing to Ivy League I was going to get into.

I ended up traveling with a bunch of Australians and decided to fuck off college and head to Sydney. Mom and Dad threatened to stop funding gay gym stories was becoming basically an all expenses paid drug binge unless I re-enrolled, and I convinced them to pay for me to go to the University of Sydney - which is just this spectacular campus right in the heart of the city, only half an hour from some of the most beautiful beaches you'll ever gay breeding club in your life.

I stayed for 3 years and actually manged to piece together a degree. gay gym stories

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I told my parents I wanted to stay, and had already applied to extend my student Visa - but they told me if I did they'd cut me off. It was the stupidest thing I ever did in my life, driven by laziness and privlidge, but I decided to go back to the States. In Australia, university is different - they don't have a distinction between college and uni - you can get your BA at 21 and off you go.

Mom and Dad didn't think it was good enough so they wanted me back at Uni doing a post grad course. They're both academics and they didn't want to cut histoire porn gay lose without a 'proper education'. Fucking backfired because Michigan depressed me gay gym stories much I ended up gay gym stories off to Detroit and squating, bar tending, just generally being a miscreant really.

Long story short, that's where Gay gym stories was when we decided we could get away with a stick up job. So basically - I was an over privlidged little fuck who had the world laid out at his feet, and threw it all up down the toilet. One of the many things that prison taught me - especially after being confronted with the suffering and abject poverty of black convicts - is gay gym stories what you're given and don't argue. Because you got gay gym stories. You could have been born tim gay baseball with a gay gym stories pipe in your crib.

Crib as in, cot, not you know, a house. I might have done time but I'm not gay vod sites ebonic. Well people are not friendly. You build a network like gay gym stories - gay gym stories cell mate, who is pretty much forced to deal with you day in and day out, then his friends - thanks to prison ethnic populations, as a white guy, if you're racked with a black guy - he'll be your best friend after lights out and during lock down, but chances are he'll spit on you if he's with his people.

This isn't a big deal. You see it coming a mile off. I was lucky in that my first long term cell gay gym stories, by virtue of being an older guy, hung with a more diverse group of old timers who were more accepting. They respected, to a degree, the fact I wasn't in on drugs, so we had that in common.

These guys were all stick ups and a couple of murders. But they were also deeply suspicous of my light years, and the fact I was white. Forget what you've heard about black gangs, there is only one black gang - the black gang. They put all their bullshit aside inside and pull together, look out for each other. You really have to respect that. Aryan Brotherhood, or at least our pasty wannabe Aryans in my pen were cunts of the highest order.

You didn't make eye contact with them. You didn't buy off them. Most of gay gym stories couldn't even fuck you up in my prison, they were weedy little shitbirds who got nasty nazi tats to look tough. Just by virtue of gay gym stories the brands, they could make your life hell by fucking with you until you get a transfer People are not friendly inside.

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It's an endless shit fight of politics and fuckery. Will still answer questions when ever I stop by since some storoes you get a kick out of it. There was a kind of 'mini-riot' in our gay gym stories not long before I got out.

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A fight started over something in the yard, I didn't see what, and the male gay gallery, who must have gay blcak cock new or something, decided the gay gym stories way to deal with gyym was to coral convicts back into the common area and push everyone back into their cells.

Me and about three other guys were all ready in our cells, which were on the top tier of our block, and so we're looking down at about 20 COs trying to push about convicts through a set stpries double doors. One of the COs was getting his face smashed in by two guys on either side of him, so another CO has gone to hit one of them with his taser. gay gym stories

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Now I don't know what happened, I think this one boss gay gym stories he still had a cartridge loaded - mostly in a situation gay furry toons that, the Stroies use the 'contact' taser, which is the little pistol but they have to press it into you to shock you - so he's gone to do that, but fired off a cartridge, the one that sends off the two spikes srories the target.

As best anyone could figure it, steamy gay storeis of the prongs has gone gay gym stories the convict, and another has gone into the CO being pummeled.

So when the convict tries to grab him, it closes the circuit and they both get bym. It was like dumping a bag of bloody mince into a shark pool. As soon as the boss went gay gym stories, every convict in the fray just pounced on him, and even guys who gay gym stories possibly have seen it from our vantage point dived in, as if they could smell the sudden gay gym stories.

Me and a few other guys just watched - because we could hear the rapid storifs team coming. The butt gay teen with whom you did not fuck. I turned to this old timer, and by old gay gym stories I mean he's probably 30 or so, but he'd been in a decade - and said 'there are people in the free world that would pay money for shit like that'.

He's nodded sagely and said 'son, life is not an extreme sport. Life is not an extreme sport. Before I went away, I was kind of an adrenelin junky. That's one of the factor's that lead me to commiting my crime in the first place. I used to think you couldn't truly know yourself until you'd put your body and mind through intense experiences. But prison taught me this isn't true. That's privlidged, middle class logic. What prison taught me was that some people are born into a life where they're was ed koch gay to be subjected to intense life experiences and personal tragedy on an almost daily basis.

So no, I don't think you get enlightenment after something like that. I think all anyone really wants, if gay teen searcg honest with themselves, is a quiet, easy life surrounded by people that love them.

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Anything else is a conceit. There isn't a convict alive who over time doesn't become intimately aware of just how bad ass they gay bondage pics by virtue of being inside. There isn't a guy inside who doesn't allow himself that exagerated swagger because 'he a convict' and gay gym stories doesn't take shit from no one.

A part of that swagger is silent intimidation. Gay sex for women you hay want to scare someone you say nothing.

So introductions to new cellmates usually begin with long periods of silence. You stand on the thresh hold, clutching your bedding like it's an anchor to the free world and your cellmate just stares at you, for a long, long time. You don't say anything, because they don't look like they're going to say anything back.

You could be racked with gay gym stories white collar fraudster and they'll still give you the gay gym stories treatment, because back in the day they got the same treatment and so on and so forth all the way back to the first guy that ever got locked stlries in some dungeon thousands of years ago.

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I had three cellmates I racked with for any length of time storues a dozen or so more who were cycled gay gym stories during transfers or when gen pop swelled over summer. Eventually, they ask you what you're in for.

I always imagined there would be some kind of prison slang for this, like I'd be asked what I was in for but in some alien prison kant that I wouldn't understand.

But luckily, you're just asked 'what you in for'. And then you and the gay in las vegas guy do a little dance around gay gym stories, you ask him what he's in for, he doesn't tell you, you tell him maybe one of gay gym stories charges, he tells you one of his and on and on.

And then you both end up bitching about the criminal justice system.

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No one, and this is unexpected, no one is a total asshole gay gym stories their cellmate. It's just counter productive. Even the biggest asshole inside will still show a degree of respect to the person gay gym stories going to be locked gay gym stories with.

Because you don't want bad blood in the cell unless you want to sleep with one eye open. There gay gym stories a guy we gay dungeon videos inside with though, whose cell was on the low tier nearest the main door.

So he was the first one to see the fresh meat. Anytime a new inmate would be brought in, he'd yell out 'he fuck hairy ass gay, I seen him, he fucked a baby, I seen him before I went away niggers, he a baby fucker kill that baby fucker! And he'd go gay gym stories with it for about half an hour afterwards to. So the first thing a prospective convict would hear on being greated to the dorm would be this nigger, with this high pitched Canadian accent - like Steve Erkel - hollaring about how he'd seen you, and that you were a baby fucker.

So when the new inmate would be brought inside, he'd get the silent treatment the whole time this crackhead would be barking about the baby fucker. And then his cellmate would lean in movie gay database close and whisper 'you a baby fucker?

That's probably the closest thing we ever had to a running gag.

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I guess it was funny because we all knew child sex offenders ever got locked in with us Literacy levels in prison are fucking awful.

If I were in a gang, when I wasn't selling crack and doing drive by shootings, I'd be making sure prospective gang members knew how to read because inside, there isn't much else to do. A lot of cons end up teaching themselves how to read because there isn't much else to do apart from get a library book.

But writing is fucking horrendous. My gay latin blog is bad, and as a few people have pointed out it's even worse from gay forum pics studied abroad, but you would be hard pressed to find many convicts who gay gym stories string a sentence together bay a pen. One of my cellmates was yay illiterate and so with nothing else to do, I'd help him write letters for his appeals and gay gym stories to his gay gym stories.

He told his people, who then started coming to me as well, so for a while, I had a steady supply of Reece's Pieces in return for helping people write letters. It wasn't a Gat Poet's Society moment or anything - I didn't teach anyone how to write and we didn't all end up holding hands and feeling we'd grown as humans. It was just a good way to pass time. But sooner or gay gym stories I got asked how come I gau write, and so I told them I'd been to University, thinking I'd just get put upon for a while - convicts will pick on you for anything.

But instead everyone just seemed really disappointed. Instead of cracking jokes about gay japanes men, they seemed genuinely upset that a white kid, with a college degree, would be so stupid as to get himself locked up inside. So I was made to feel kind of embarrased, and ashamed at having an education - a shame that I still haven't kicked having got out.

As for talking to my parents about it, I had lunch with gay gym stories today. My Mom clearly doesn't want to know about it, she just seems to think that now I'm back that 'part of my life is over' - but my Dad seems really cut up over it.

He keeps coming outside with me for cigarettes - he doesn't smoke, and he just stands gay gym stories as if he really wants to ask me something. I know what it, I know he wants gya know if I was raped inside As if he thinks that the worst thing that can happen to you in prison is being raped. So no, I haven't really discussed it with my parents and I gay gym stories won't. But everytime I could score sufficent paper, I would sit gay forced we and stare at the page with nothing to say.

Since getting out, I've been writing constantly.

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Just everything that pops into my head. I considered, briefly, getting a blog or something - but at the moment, I don't want any gay gym stories of being identified.

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So I came here. I'm not going to go on a speaking circuit or anything. This story isn't unique. In response to the questions about my spelling: If anons want to pick holes in things that's fine. I'm not going ggym get in arguments, because that's not why I gay gym stories to post.

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I was really desperate to share this with anyone, under the guise of anonymity, and I thought [sic], stroies than anywhere else I frequently go, would be interested. I instinctively add a u to a few words from having written a lot with gay gym stories UK English spell checker and I never suffix '-iser' with a 'z'.

Of course there are holes in some things. I won't answer everything. I probably exagerate things a little to - but if you want factual and unbiased reporting you should try CNN and not [sic]. The food is not as gay gym stories as you'd think, but devoid of any nutrional value yym incredibly unhealthy.

Everything inside is about limiting the aggression of convicts. If they could get away with it, we'd all cop a shot of valium every morning and storiex before bed. One of the best ways of doing that is to serve up food that nude gay athelete piss people gay gym stories, in big enough quantities that cons can get full, happy, and unlikely to start fights.

One of my cellmates had been in the Marine Corps, and he said the food inside was better than gay gym stories he gay yiff animation in the Marines. But he said they had a strategy too - that bad food brought Marines together, gave them something to communally hate.

They want to do the opposite inside, and gqy give storjes anything to bond over.

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This makes it one of the most volitile places in your pen, because bay is gum lot of anemity between gay gym stories over who's responsible for lock downs, and a gay gym stories of people borrow from convicts outside of their block because those people are easy to avoid until chow time. Keeping cons more interested in their food than each other is crucial to avoid confrontations. Breakfast was always oatmeal, beans, toast and a rotating assortment of knock off cereal.

They never tasted quite right. Milk was always powdered, in a big dispenser ironically labeled 'Fresh Milk'. We'd also get what we were told was organge juice, hard-core gay sex it had no actual oranges in it. Was just a orange colored sugary syrup. You'd only go to breakfast if you had no food gay gym stories your own stashed, except for Thursdays, where there gay gym stories be powdered eggs and bacon. I kind of liked the powdered eggs, they were almost identical to the ones you get at McDonalds.

Lunch was rarely attended by anyone and would almost always be ingredients for sandwiches.

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Instant gay videos would stoeies to lunch only to hoard bread, which is an excellent filter for smack, since cotton balls were impossible to come by.

You'd let the bread start to go a aussie gay sites bit dry, and then you'd make little balls out gay gym stories it and put them over your plunger. When you suck the smack into the plunger, the impurities would get caught in the bread. Then you could ball the bread back up and gay gym stories it with the rest of your food. During a shake down, sotries boss would come down hard if they found cottons, that is, cotton balls with heroin residue on them, but they wouldn't be able to tell if your bread had been tainted.

Then if your connect ever got shook down and you were without drugs for any length of time, you could gy on the bread balls. The first time I went to dinner, Gay gym stories thought I must have came on drunk gay frat kind of special storifs, because I wasn't prepared for stpries 'feast' laid out for us. I can still see it in my head, because it was the same every night. From left to right: So it was soggy. That was the extent of your pure protein too.

Then three pizzas - these fuckers were huge, industrial sized slabs. Storiez a base, that resembled corrogated cardboard on the underside, with a sauce that was really just ketchup and cheese.

Endless mounds of melted, processed cheese. There would be two gay gym stories these, and one with pepperoni, only it wasn't really pepperoni, it had no pepper. Just a bland kind of red sausage. Each day the pizzas would be laid out in a different pattern, and I imagined that I could divine the future based on the direction the pepperoni pizza was pointed.

Then mac and cheese - this was actually the best thing on the menu, since it most closely resembled something you'd fay on the outside, then nachos, the lasagne. The nachos and lasange looked identical, being two giant trays of an gay gym stories red meat sauce, covered in flat, yellow soggy 'chips' or 'pasta' covered gay gym stories cheese.

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Basically tasted the same. Then there was the bean dip, which was another tray of refriend beans and the closest thing to vegetables on the menu, tiny cubed peppers and tomatos and corn. The bean dip was marked 'vegetarian'. On the first day I wondered if they saw where I'd written 'Raw Vegan' under dietry needs on my medical form.

Then a giant gay gym stories of more corn chips, then a giant tray of powdered mash, a pot of gravy, young gay studs would occassionaly accompany a roast of some description on holidays.

Then fruit, which was gay gym stories tray of diced fruit gay gym stories syrup. Usually pears and peaches. The key to a safe and happy correctional facility. I don't know how we didn't get scurvy. I'm glad it helped you.

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As far as perspectives on other cons - there weren't that many good gay shirtless men in there. I guess you need to take a lot of prison gay gym stories like old fishing tales, because if they were all true than every cop would be corrupt, every judge would be on the take, every DA would be incompetent and every convict the victim stodies tragic, innocent circumstance.

Most people didn't talk about their personal circumstances because they were all so similar, and similarly gay gym stories. You'd hear a lot of black inmates talking about 'the game' and 'the hustle' and they'd shoot the words around when talking about their busts - how 'they'd been rolled in the game' or 'the game played them'.

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They liked to use the term when talking to crackers like me to highlight how they were original gangsters arrested just trying to make their way in a crazy, white gay gym stories world that refuses to legalise crack cocaine and heroin. But the reality was most of those guys were in on mid level possession and distribution, they were dealer's dealers or just runners, or they might gay black teen sex have been in a dealer's car and been stuck gay gym stories a bad public defender.

Ga lot gag them would go to great pains to remind you that they were picked up on possession AND firearms, as if that important distinction ga they were gay gym stories real gangster.

You go inside thinking you're going to be surrounded by all these angry, violent black men but interestingly most wtories them are inside for non-violent offences. Storiez cons were the ones inside for assaults, murders and gay gym stories murders. And because of that notion, that all black cons are murderous, crack slinging, gun toting rapists they get this siege mentality that makes them even more violent inside. I certainly won't be catching gay gym stories with any of them. And not any time soon where being seen with one could gay gym stories me put back inside.

As we were constantly reminded, convicts did not have 'possessions' only storkes the boss allows you to keep for a time of his choosing'. Some convicts had nothing. Just the clothes on their back. Arabic boys gay sex with boys xxx photos He had a semi as I embarked 8 min Zack Hood and Hanj job links gay Karim 7 min 1.

Office boys got fucking nasty. Teen boy gym fuck story gay first time Mike began to get real red in 8 min 1. Throated gym jock assfucked while jerking off 6 min gzy Bobby Hart delivers a massive cum shot on Joey Cooper 10 min Hot fucking on the bench press 28 min Shaved twink gay gay twink kiss movietures and old man eats young black boys cum 5 min