I didn't realise it until just the other day, but being in prison for years has made me the kind of filthy old man who used to give me the fear when I was younger (and un-incarcerated). I had this revelation when I was confronted with some very current pornography and was not only turned-on, but also felt the need to critique it culturally the best I could. (Which is really just an excuse for thinking about naked chicks even when I'm not jacking off.)...
I've found everything short of a human body washed up on the beach," said my friend Russ. During a couple of winters spent caretaking a fishing lodge on an island off British Columbia's west coast, he discovered the joys of beachcombing-pulling random cast-off objects out of the ocean. Two of his best hauls: dozens of left-footed Nikes that washed up after a container ship from Japan went down ...
There were thirty thousand tabs of Ecstasy in three clear plastic bags on the coffee table between us. I was kicking back on one of two dueling couches waiting for an answer. The fat and fidgety man across from me stared at the tassels on his loafers. The E was mine, the hesitation was all Bo...
Homebrew, Ice-Picks and Dirty Old Men in a Canadian Penitentiary
It was an hour until the 11 o'clock count and the Newfies were still in the TV room dipping their cups into the bottom of that gutbucket of raisin brew. The noise level was way too high and Radar, an old-line screw, was punching the clock at the end of the tier, doing his best to ignore the whole sh...
