55) Gotdammit, not the chicken!

'Bout to eat a nigga food!.. 

If you hear these words, 9 times out of 10 you will see blood afterwards. After the Bitches Love Me incident, The first words Gold T said to me were, "I heard you ate a nigga's food." Basically what it means is doing bodily harm to a person. One of the worst things that can happen in prison is to have someone take something from you and you do nothing about it. If they take something off of your chow tray, they are showing the utmost disrespect for you. Hence
the phrase, "eat a nigga food." A week ago we had fried chicken for lunch. I was one of the first inmates to the chow hall. I got my tray, took a seat, poured on a little hot sauce and was right about to dig in when Chubb showed up and took the chicken right out of my hand. To add insult to injury, the mother fucker Chubb had the nerve to say, "good looking nigga." My whole crew looked at me like, "nigga you better do something!" (That Brooklyn bullshit, believe me they on it!) I had to explain to them the deal I made with Chubb, because my niggas would have been looking at me like I was food. 

The fucked up part is Chubb caught my ass again about 4 days ago. My main man Black,
from Flatbush had just handed me the last couple of boxes of Frosted Flakes for breakfast. I poured them in my bowl and was just about to add my milk when this nigga Chubb shows up out of nowhere like a magician (Chubbdini).... Cereal gone and I'm mad as a mother fucker! Right then and there I decide that I'm not going to give Chubb the pleasure of confiscating shit from me again. For the last few days I have not eaten any meat other than fish. Baked fish from the chow hall and canned fish from commissary. I've only drank water, no soda, no juice, no milk. No bread, no pasta no rice. My whole diet consist of fresh fruit and veggies from the chow hall, water and fish.

The second whole day with out eating meat must have knocked my body out of whack, because as soon as the cell doors opened I told Fraction to get the fuck out. What I deposited into the toilet was not from this world. I had to keep looking into the toilet to see if I shitted out a major organ. And the smell! People on the third tier were telling me to give them a courtesy flush.
The consistency of the shit was that of runny oatmeal and I dropped enough into the toilet to fill up Gatorade bottle. After a shit like that, toilet paper was not going to do. I jumped into the shower and after about 5 minutes I noticed something different about my body. I can't really explain it, but it was like my whole body took a deep breath and let it out. I've started to carry a roll of toilet paper on me whenever I leave the unit. I definitely don't want to get caught in one of my shit storms with out it. I'm starting to despise Chubb right about now.


Shit is finally starting to get back to normal. 

Chubb came by my cell today. He wanted to know why I haven't been doing my walking. I gave him some bullshit story about me "laying low." Chubb wanted to hear none of it. Basically what Chubb told me was that if I wanted his help to get my self in shape we were going to have to enter into a verbal agreement. I did want his help, so I said okay. Here is the agreement we entered. I was to continue doing my walking, but my eating habits had to change starting today. Chubb
calls this the "Caveman diet." I can eat anything I want as long as it was available 100,000 years ago. "Can I eat a cheese burger?" I asked Chubb. "Did they have cheese a 100,000 years ago?" Was Chubbs reply. "What about french fries?" I asked. "They had potatoes back then." Chubb looked at me like, nigga please! "True they had potatoes a 100,000 years ago, but I know for a fact that they didn't have saturated oil and a pan to fry it in." Chubb was on a roll. "And to help you out, anytime I see you eating something that's not from a 100,000 years ago I get to take it from you, no matter where you're at or who's around. That's the deal." If this was gonna help me get back to my high school weight I was with it. I gave Chubb my word and he just smiled and walked off. The good news is it's only for 30 days. How hard can it be, right?


I met Rick in the library this evening...

I'm a little pissed, because I missed The Steve Harvey Show. When I walked

into the library I heard somebody yell out for me. It was Rick. Slim dude, brown skinned, average height...average everything. For a moment I was stunned. I couldn't believe that this man standing before me was one of America's most notorious drug dealers. I introduced myself and we chopped it up for a minute. Rick is a real laid back dude and I found myself warming up to him. (No homo.) I still had no idea why he wanted to see me and there was no reason to rush him since the library doors were locked until the next move. After about 15 minutes of feeling each other out (No homo.) Rick dropped
it on me. The reason Rick wanted to holla at your boy was because a company had approached him about doing a movie on his life and he "heard" I was a screenplay writer. I
just started laughing out loud. Here I am thinking that maybe Bitches Love Me was his homie and Rick wanted get back. Rick gave me a first draft of the script and told me to give him my honest opinion on it. I told him I'd read it tonight and get at him tomorrow.

I read the first 65 pages of Freeway Rick's screenplay and I must say that this nigga was doing it big! This script has all the ingredients for a hit movie. There are a few things I'd change if it was up to me. The beginning lags a bit and seems to be paced wrong and I would start the script with Rick in jail and flash back to the meat of the story periodically. I must say this nigga Rick has lived an incredible life.