Today I changed the channel on the TV for the first time... 

I know it seems like no big thing, but I've heard stories of niggas getting killed for changing the channel. There are 4 TVs in the unit. Three on the flats and a "sports TV" Situated on the second tier in it's own room. On the flats there is a Black TV, a Mexican, TV and a white TV. Each race decides what is to be watched on their designated TV. Races are not allowed to touch any TV but their own without SEVER CONSEQUENCES! The "sports TV" inside the TV room is really just the second Black TV. Don't ask me why, it's just the way it is.
It was a little after 7:00 am, most of the inmates were in the yard, working or still in their cells. The thing with the Black TV is that it seems as if all niggas ever want to watch are music videos. I like music videos too, but damn a nigga would like to watch the news every once in a while! So I changed the channel to CNN and sat down.  Before the first commercial came on I heard a nigga say, "What the fuck you doing nigga!" Aw shit, here we go. I turned around and it was Boom, laughing his ass off. I admit I was shook for a second, but Boom sat down next to me and we started chopping it up. Boom preceded to tell me a story about a white boy named K----. One day K---- was all set to watch his favorite show, "Seinfeld".
It was ten minutes before the show started and K---- went to grab a soda and some smokes from his cell.
[NOTE: To watch TV you have to have a Walkman tuned to a certain radio frequency. Depending on which TV your watching.]
While K---- was in his cell he heard some one change the channel. So, K---- sticks his head out of the cell and tells the dude, "Hey, my shows about to come on in a couple of minutes. I just came to grab some smokes out of my cell." The guy doesn't answer. K---- walks out of the cell and taps the guy on the shoulder. "Dude, my shows about to come on in a couple of minutes." The kid looks at K---- like, "Fuck off!" K---- walks back to his cell grabs a pad lock, which he places in a sock emerges from his cell and commences to crack this kid's head open. He then grabs the unconscious kid and drags him back to his cell. Boom even said K---- placed the kid in his bed. K---- went right back to his chair and watched his show. Of course I didn't believe a word Boom said, that is until Fraction confirmed the story. Fraction said he was actually there when it happened. To this day "Seinfeld" is must see TV, on the White TV in Killer-K. I think from now on I'm just going to read.

31) PLAN B

Eric fell for the trap, hook line and sinker...

Ben told Eric he needed the money from the weed he sold and he needed it now! Now Ben and I both know that Jason, the kid who owes Eric the money can't pay him. Why?... Because I just hit Jason up for $300. Now if Jason just payed me $300 ain't no way in hell he got $70 to pay Eric. Ben told Eric, "Get the money from Jason, or get the nigga Jason off the yard."
The next couple of days were funny. The way Ben ran it down.... Eric tried to hit Jason up for the loot. Jason told Eric he'd pay when UNICOR post. Eric told Jason, that would be too late. Ben told Eric to handle his business. Eric waited till almost lock down and then stabbed Jason in the butt. In the butt!!! How funny is that. Eric went to the hole, Jason went to the hole and I still got Jason's $300 that he was using to invest in another package with me. I love when a plan comes together.

Ben told me Eric is getting shipped off to Colorado. Good riddance! Jason I don't have to worry about either. When the guards were packing up his shit they found a cell phone battery in his locker. That nigga won't be staying here for sure. I hit Ben off with a small package for helping me out.

I started reading "A Prayer For Owen Meeny." So far so good. Another one of Budd's picks. He says I'll like it. We'll see.


Today started off crazy. As soon as the cell doors opened Fraction and I were up. It's just something about the sound of a cell door opening that snaps you awake immediately. Fraction was taking a piss and I was was sitting up on my bunk with my feet hanging off the bed when it happened. The first thing I heard was arguing. Loud arguing! I looked at Fraction, Fraction looked at me and we both knew something was cracking off. I jumped off the bed and put my shoes on immediately. Fraction followed suit. Now I was never one to look for trouble but in prison you need to always be aware of your surroundings. ALWAYS! 
I stuck my head out the cell door and I noticed that two niggas from DC were putting in work on about 6 Mexicans. Both of the DC cats had knives and at least three of the Mexicans were bleeding. This shit didn't concern me, so I went right back into my cell to mind my own business. I was just about to check my food inventory in preparation for the lock down that was inevitable,
when a mother fucker ran in our cell. The adrenaline kicked in and I went into "Johnny The Homicidal Maniac" mode. It was a Mexican and he was bleeding real bad from his stomach. He kept repeating the same words over and over in Spanish. I don't know what the fuck he was saying, but I knew he had to get the fuck out of here. What ever was going on outside the cell must have escalated, because I could here more yelling and more cursing. Fuck this! I grabbed the Mexican (who, by the way decided to lay his punctured body down on the floor) by his arms and dragged his ass outside of my cell. Nothing personal, but I ain't want the mother fucker that blew this Mexican to think he was down with me. I dragged the Mexican out to the middle of the tier and looked around. At least four different fights had kicked off. The goon squad arrived in full riot gear and quickly ended the disturbance. After about an hour of lock down my cell door opened. It was finally our turn to be interviewed. Me and Fraction were cuffed up and led away to be interrogated. I told them I ain't know shit! Me and Fraction did decide to tell them that the bleeding Mexican entered our cell and that I dragged him out. (They have cameras everywhere, no use lying) They wanted to know why I dragged him out of my cell. I told them that, "whoever stabbed him... I ain't want that person to come up in my cell and decide to stab me." To my amazement the guard started laughing. He said he ain't blame me. He would have done the same thing. 

It was well after 2 o'clock by the time they interviewed the entire unit. After all was said and done 17 people were sent to the hole. They let us out our cells around 5:00 pm, but we couldn't leave the unit. Fraction was mad that he missed a whole days work at UNICOR. A whole days work at 40 cent an hour. Fuck that! The hustle don't stop. I gonna do what I need to do to make it out of here alive. ANYTHING!


I got a letter from Barbra today. She said that baby Rhaqil  is doing good. I feel fucked up, because there is nothing I can do for the kid. I don't know how single mothers do it.

I've come to the conclusion that my grandmother has cursed me. Her words have tempted the fates and birthed into existence "my now." I can remember a least a dozen times she has evoked these words... "Keep doing what you doing... You gonna end up just like Charles Reese."
Charles Reese is my biological father. He, like I am at this moment, sat behind a prison wall at the time of my birth. I, like he has, sat behind a prison wall at the birth of my son.

Me and Fraction are kind of beefing. The nigga eats raw garlic three times a day to fight infection. Now I ain't tripping on the fact that a nigga trying to stay healthy, but damn! The smell emanates through his skin. The cell smell like a fucking Italian restaurant. I've spoken on it, but I'm gonna leave it alone for a while.

 I've come up with a plan to get rid of Eric. Personally I like the nigga. He was always a cool cat on the streets. I'd see him at the club and he would always send a round of drinks to my table. Not because we was cool like that... Eric just liked to floss. Let's keep it real, niggas like us were making a killing on the bricks but, Eric liked mother fuckers to know he had it going on. To me he was just a mark. As much money as I made I ALWAYS screamed broke. No need to bring unwanted attention to me or my crew. I found out from Ben that Eric was a little short on money. I guess the feds confiscated his cash too. I got Ben to find out if Eric would be down to sell a little weed. Eric was down with it instantly. I gave Ben a hundred dollars worth of weed which he gave to Eric. The plan was for Eric to sell the weed and keep fifty dollars from every sack he sold. I wasn't trippin cause I was making a killing on the Boy and that covered all the weed I was stocking up on. Ben told me Eric got rid of it all in one day. Perfect! That's just what I wanted. Time for plan B...


A nigga from another unit approached me today...

I ain't know this nigga from Adam, but he said Eric owed him some money. I was vexed. "What the fuck that gotta do with me," I said. 
Now Eric had told this nigga that I hit him for his little stash while we were on the bricks and that the only way he could pay is if somebody made me pay
Now I'm no small dude. I'm 6 feet and 240 pounds, but this nigga was on some Hulk Hogan shit. I'm talking huge! He had me by at least 5 or 6 inches
(No Homo) and this nigga was all muscle. 
Okay Hype, play it smart. "Look, playboy. What happen to Eric was pure business. If that nigga owe you, you need to handle that nigga! I ain't paying shit for nobody! I continued to ice grill the nigga but I knew in my mind that this nigga was not about to back down. So we stood there locked on each other for what seemed to be hours. And then the nigga grabbed me and picked me up laughing. "Yo Hype, It's me!" he said. 
Me?... Who the fuck is this cat! "You don't recognize me?" he said. Hell naw, I thought in my head. 
"I'm Sincere, From Florence... I use to fuck with your cousin." And then it hit me... "Lil Ben?"...Benny use to date one of my cousins back in the day.  I met him when I lived in South Carolina back in the late 80's.  Now here we are again. Small world ain't it?
Bennny and I went to the yard and he filled me in on Eric. He told me he and Eric were in the same unit and that Eric had been running his mouth about how he was going to get me. I told him not to say anything. Just observe and keep me posted. I hit him off with a lil weed and told him we'd talk later. It's time for me to move on this bitchass nigga, Eric.


Stacked $850.00 worth of commissary in 9 days... 

Gold T turned me on to a white boy that wanted to sell a nice gold chain for a small package. I checked it out and decided to cop it. I gave the kid less than $15.00 worth of dope for it. He thinks I'm shorting him and I am, but where else is he going to go?

Another fight broke out today in the TV room. I think it was over "The Young And The Restless." The guards didn't catch it yet, but Dirty Red put hands on this nigga Dre-Dre. I'm hoping it doesn't escalate, with Red being a Blood and Dre-Dre being a Crip.

Saw Eric again today. I'm thinking I might have to make a move on him. Now any real nigga knows that what happened to Eric was business. The nigga got caught slipping and got GOT. If the roles were reversed he would have done the same thing.

Got another 4 bags of commissary today. I've got so much shit I've got it stored in Fraction's locker as well as mine. I have over 200 books of stamps and 32 cartons of smokes. Life is as good as it gets for now.


My new cell mates name is Fraction. 

I thought it was the nigga's street name, but come to find out it's his government. 

Snipe moved into the cell right next door with another Crip named Killer Boom. Snipe told me it was nothing personal, just politics. He introduced me to Boom... Is it a coincidence that both of their names are synonymous with guns? Killer Boom looks like a nigga that might have averaged 3 or 4 murders a month. I'm not talking drive by shootings, he look like a nigga that's gonna give it to you up close and personal. (No Homo) I'm staying the fuck away from Boom.

Gold T snuck into my unit today. In my cell it took him about 5 minutes to step on the package while I played look out. He used smuggled in powdered sugar from the chow hall kitchen. It didn't look like two gees worth of work to me, but Gold T  insisted it was and showed me how to package up a fifty dollar standard jail sack. I thought to myself, "Who the fuck is gonna pay fifty dollars for such a small amount of product?"  

Gold T started by cutting out a 3 inch X 3 inch square from the bible. This
was the packaging. He then used a piece of folded up paper to scoop the dope up with, which he poured into the thimble from the board game Monopoly. (Gold T swears that this measurement comes out to, 0.50 grams if filled to the top of the thimble.) The dope from the thimble goes into the 3 X 3 square. Fold up the ends and voilĂ ! Eyeballing the stash I could tell that I could easily get another 38 to 43 packages out of what was left even after breaking Gold T off properly. ( No Homo)
Gold T put me on to a dope fiend, booty bandit in my unit named Bob J. Bob is an old dope fiend from back in the days. I know his type well. I broke Bob off a taste of the work and he was back a few hours later wanting to spend a hundred dollars with me. I gave Bob a 100 dollar commissary list which consisted mostly of cigarettes, packs of coffee, and candy bars. I planned on making money off these items by giving out two and getting three back. The hustle don't stop.