Do you remember when Ken tried to lift Peter's spirits by suggesting that he keep a prison diary? I wonder how that worked out. Maybe Peter was inspired by Bridget Jones? Maybe it went something like this...
Monday October 20th
11 stone 6 pounds (after lunch), alcohol units: 0 (none left after I guzzled it all), cigarettes: 0, calories, 3,521 (stole a Kit Kat from Jim while he was in the visitor's room screaming at Steve)
Just got the bad news from Judge Judy (not his real name but he looks like her). Guilty as charged!
What a bummer! Thanks for nothing, wankers and wankettes of the jury. Now I'll have to get used to prison food, weightlifting and bi-weekly beatings from 'The Landlord' and his thugs. Not to mention the lack of conjugal visits (apparently the head screw takes dim view of bigamists and adulterers).
On the bright side, my cellmate (Eugene or Gangrene or whatever his name is) seems nice. Dad called. Says he's going to sell his kimono to raise enough money for an appeal. He suggested I keep a diary, he says it`s a noble and defiant gesture like the writings of Henri Charrière or Bridget Jones (note to self: Who's Bridget Jones?). Well, that's enough wordsmithing for one day.
Tuesday November 4th
11 stone 3 pounds (skipped lunch - they served pan-seared foie gras - again!), alcohol units: still 0, cigarettes: I wish!, calories, 2,574 (want to look good for Carla)
Just got the good news! Rob's a toe rag. Even better, I didn't kill Tina!
Had to jog down to Jim McDonald's cell just to rub it in (so I did). Jim gave me a light kick in the nuts but his heart wasn't in it. He's preoccupied with getting a new cell phone (the screws confiscated the last one). He can't decide between the Samsung Galaxy S5 with a 16 megapixel camera and a 2.5 GHz quad-core processor, or the Ayephone 6 with the 4.7 inch screen and a dual-core 1.4 GHz Cyclone processor. I told him it was called the 'iPhone' not the 'aye phone' and he went ballistic (again).
Can't wait to get out of the joint. Wonder what Carla's doing right now? Probably having her usual mid-afternoon fishbowl of Pinot. See you soon, my love - and sorry about all the adultery.