I recently spent some time in prison. I know, I know. You’re wondering how that could possibly be. You’re thinking I’m such an upstanding citizen, and no T.J. Monkey’s writer could ever find himself on the wrong side of the law.
Well, as to your second thought, don’t even get me started about Flynn’s illegal llama farm.
As to the first, my time in the slammer was all a BIG misunderstanding.
You see, the arresting officer told me that I was being charged with a “traffic” violation. I figured this had to do with the eleventy billion dollars in parking fines I’ve accumulated throughout these United States, including the territories (yes, even Guam). Since I’m independently wealthy, I laughed off the charge, knowing I could just put it on my Visa card and get on with my day. Therefore, I confessed to said “traffic” violation.
Little did I know, I was actually being arrested for drug “trafficking,” which I hear is far more serious than any number of parking tickets. So, I wound up in jail.
My cellmate was a man named Ice Bone. We hit it off right away, as we have a lot in common…in that we were both confined to the same 8×10 space with no connection to the outside world. Also, it’s amazing how close you become to someone when there’s no stall around the toilet you share. But I digress.
Finding his moniker unique, I asked Ice Bone where he had gotten such a nickname. It seems it came from his mother, who always said he had ice water running through his bones.
When I stated that I always thought it was ice water running through one’s veins, Ice Bone responded “Nah. That would kill you.”
Not wanting to get into an argument about the circulatory system, which isn’t my area of expertise, we proceeded on to other topics. We spoke of life, love, Ice Bone’s ruminations on quantum physics. Good times. Good times.
Eventually, however, it was time for me to go, as the cops decided I was not, in fact, a Colombian Drug Lord, but merely a Columbia Law Student.
As I made my way through the cell bars, Ice Bone said “You be good out there. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Now, I hate that saying to begin with. Why should I not do anything you wouldn’t do? What makes you so cool? I think the saying should be changed to “Don’t do anything you wouldn’t do.” That way I get to live my life my way. But that’s neither here nor there.
Curious, I turned back to Ice Bone and asked what landed him in prison in the first place.
He said he had gone on an 18 state killing spree, raping and pillaging small towns in the Midwest.
Hearing this, I asked, “Well, what exactly is it that you wouldn’t do then?”
“Eat meat,” was his reply.
So, the moral of the story is “Don’t do anything you wouldn’t do,” unless you would eat meat.
Fur is murder…