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Worst-Ever Prisoner Nicknames

9:42 PM
Having spent almost half of my life behind prison walls, I've been around some colorful characters. Here, for your reading enjoyment, I will list some of the worst nicknames I've heard since I've been in prison...
Thunder Cookie
Boo Gorilla
Ashtray
Mayonnaise
High Rank
Can't Get Right
Babyboy (doesn't seem right for an adult)
Suicide
Mongolia
Phathead
Fatfat
Taterhead
Coon Dick
Smoke One/Burn One
One Man Gang
Martial Arts
Crunchy Black
BBQ
Skoochie
Cornbread
Butterbean
Butter-roll
Seafood Lover
Scroll
Swisha
Toot
Pokey
Papa Skeet ("skeet" being slang for ejaculate)
Big Papa/Big Daddy (one adult male should not call another adult male either of these)
Then you have your generic nicknames like "money" or "town" (A-money, B-town, C-money, D-town, etc.) or your drug-related nicknames (bag, sac, pound, kilo). I've never understood how you can choose your own nickname, anyway. I'd like to know what you think- what is the worst nickname out of the bunch? Or do you have some to add? Feel free to comment.
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Breakfast Trays & Divine Intervention

9:34 PM
Breakfast was once my favorite meal. I'm not sure when that changed, but after being at Parchman for years I'm just thankful when I don't get a case of food poisoning. Since arriving at Wilkinson County Correctional Facility, I haven't had to worry about that. A lot of the guys have complained about the size of the portions, and true enough we aren't getting the amount of calories we are supposed to. But I'll gladly make that trade-off to keep from contracting food-borne illness.

If a mouse's survival depended on what I leave on my trays here at WCCF, it would have starved to death within the first few days. When a tray leaves out of this cell you would seriously doubt there was ever food on it. Ever heard that calorie restriction diets prolong life? I'll keep you posted on that one...

We have an officer here in HJK section that makes me think of Fred G. Sanford's older, skinnier, grumpier brother with a three-pack-a-day smoking habit (if Fred had such a brother). The last few mornings he has been passing out trays downstairs on this pod. I don't interact with many people at all, so we've never had a reason not to get along.

At breakfast we get our tray, a half-pint of milk, and 6 oz. of juice or maybe coffee. So, Fred's older, skinnier, grumpier brother with a three-pack-a-day smoking habit hands me my tray and milk, then asks if I want any juice/coffee. I hand him my cup. Now, the way the cambro that holds the juice/coffee is sitting on the cart puts the nozzle close to the floor. And there's Fred's older, skinnier, grumpier brother with a three-pack-a-day smoking habit, with his head down, ass in the air, cigarette in his mouth with ashes as long as my middle finger dangling directly over my cup.

Allow me to reiterate something: I'm not a morning person. As I see this cigarette ash dangling above my cup I begin to pray, God, give me the strength to not snatch his old ass through my door if those ashes fall into my cup... I feel that God heard my prayer. The ashes somehow didn't fall, Fred's older, skinnier, grumpier brother with a three-pack-a-day smoking habit stood up and handed me my cup, took the cigarette out of his mouth and smiled big enough to show all of his teeth. All three of them. Like he was amazed the ashes didn't fall in there, too.

The next morning it happened almost the exact same way. I was praying, Lord, I know my cup runneth over and all that, but don't let it be with cigarette ashes. By the third morning I had decided I no longer wanted any juice or coffee. I might be crazy, but I'm not stupid.
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About Me

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Steven Farris is a prisoner who has been incarcerated since a month after his 16th birthday in 1998. Currently serving a life sentence without the possibility for parole, he is seeking to educate the public about the true nature of prison and the widespread and negative effects of the prison industrial complex. Steven has worked with both the National Prison Project of the ACLU, as well as the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund in furthering this effort.

You can contact him directly at:
Steven Farris #R5580
WCCC
P.O. Box 1889
Woodville, MS 39669-1889

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