I CAN’T AFFORD NOT TO GO TO JAIL

I read that it cost taxpayers $1,000 a day to keep Paris Hilton in prison. But what amazes me is that taxpayers pay $100.00 a day to care for ordinary inmates.

I figure my expenses come to $25.00 a day, and that includes what I spend on Spaz. I don’t live high on the hog, but there is ham in my frig and I have cable, and I’m on the internet. I stay warm in the winter and cool in the summer. I also spend $3.00 a day on gas, an expense I’m sure the inmate need not incur.

So, what the hell does an inmate need? A cell. Three meals a day. Toiletries. I mean, how much can an orange jumpsuit cost?

PHOTOGRAPHY IS FOR THE BIRDS

I could smack Alfred Hitchcock for empowering feathered missiles. Last week I was almost gobbled by a turkey and I took a direct hit from a Mockingbird. I’m use to being mocked, but by a bird?

I was sitting on the couch watching the Paris Hilton show when I noticed a flock of turkeys in the back yard. I grabbed my camera and snuck around the side of the house. Seven hens, a couple of gobblers, and a whole passel of pouts’ were feeding on grasshoppers. I snapped a shot just as they spotted me. The turkeys scattered as I advanced the film.
Thirty minutes later, a hen and a jake cautiously made their way back into the yard. The hen spotted me and began to putt. The jake turned to flee. Hoping to ease his fear, I gobbled. Now, either I’m a champion turkey caller, or that jake was as dumb as a conch. He ruffled himself up and gobbled back before charging me. I’m not afraid of a bird but I suddenly remembered I’d left a pot of pasta simmering on the stove, so I went back in the house. Nothing worse than overcooked spaghetti.

A couple of days later I found a mockingbird’s nest tucked in a privet shrub. In order to get a good shot, I stood on a cinderblock, held back some branches with one hand, and snapped a picture. One of the fledglings gapped its beak thinking momma was going to feed her. But momma was busy. Just as I snapped the picture she dive-bombed my head, knocking me off the cinderblock. She circled to make another pass. I would have stood my ground, after all, a mockingbird is much smaller than a turkey, but I could hear the phone ringing so I ran inside. Turned out to be a telemarketer soliciting donations to the Wild Bird Fund.

WHEN CRIME PAYS

This morning I called the County prison and asked if they were overcrowded. The nice woman on the other line asked if I was with the press. I told her no, that I was just a concerned citizen. She hesitated at first, but then told me they were running at 85% capacity. I thanked her and hung up.

Damn.

I brushed my teeth and ran a comb through what’s left of my hair. I was going to shave, but I didn’t feel like looking at my mug in the mirror, so I doused it with cold water and left it at that. Blood-shot eyes, errant ear and nose hairs, and creased, leathery flesh are best looked at later in the day.

I checked my emails, but it was just another redneck vacation. Nothing but spam and phishing. I googled myself. No surprises there either. I was a ghost thumbing a ride on the information highway. Nothing solid. No bios. No links. No info.

I logged onto my bank account. If I can put together another ten bucks I can cover bank fees for the month.

No money.

No looks.

No celebrity.

I decided to call off the heist. Crime doesn’t pay for guys like me.

PARIS: FROM THE HILTON TO THE BIG HOUSE

Half the world believes Paris Hilton should be in prison. The other half is blonde. And despite the petitions, and calls for California Governor Schwarzenegger to intercede, Paris is now behind bars. For the next three weeks, news coverage of the war in Iraq, the up-coming presidential race, and global warming will take a back seat to the Hilton hellion. Tomorrows news reports will likely contain the following:

Last night, Paris Hilton accidentally walked through her cell bars while sleepwalking. She was captured a short time later when a guard overheard her say, “solitary confinement is hot.”

Nicole Richie, long time gal-pal, sent Paris a chocolate cake. A file was inside the cake. Hilton did her nails.

Paris announces release of her new perfume, “Felony”.

When told she would get “three hots and a cot“, Paris requested Leonardo DiCaprio, Nick Lachey, and Brad Pitt.

O.J. Simpson must be laughing his ass off.