July 27, 2025 • 19 mins
Scouse Rambo is the first to admit that his drink and drug use is way beyond that of recreational. He tells the lads that he once collapsed in a field at Glastonbury, doesn't remember how he got there but when he came to, security was there and a band of Hare Krishnas. He believed he'd been kidnapped by ISIS and they were about to behead him. The cocktail of drugs he'd been on had finally taken their toll.
During the three and a half years I was in prison I wrote over a million words by hand. Tales From The Jails is a contemporaneous account of my life, and attempts to thrive rather than merely survive, whilst incarcerated.
Most names have been changed. The events have not.
This is a Jekyll & Pride production.
Producer: Trevessa Newton
Title Music taken from The Confession, on the album Crimes Against Poetry (written and performed by The Shadow Poet, produced by Lance Thomas)
Copyright Jekyll & Pride Ltd 2025
@talesfromthejailspodcast
@jekyllandpride2023
@theshadowpoettsp
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
During the three and a halfyears I was in prison, I wrote
(00:03):
over a million words by hand.
Tales from the Jails is acontemporaneous account of my
life, and attempts to thriverather than merely survive
whilst incarcerated.
Most names have been changed,but the events have not.
Episode 44 Rambo On AcidDecember is a week away.
(00:40):
What a month November has been,and it's only day 24.
The birthday cards have beenread many times by these eyes,
and these eyes only.
Once Mr.
R let the cat out of the bagwith the postal delivery, it was
gags and windups for two days.
All in good fun.
One of the lads asked me at thetable, how had I managed to get
(01:03):
Botox in?
I've said many times before thata day in the life of an inmate
can range from sublime to crazy,from heart wrenching sad to side
splitting funny.
Today was no exception.
Since the industrial action lastweek, a new regime has been
implemented due to the extremeshortage of staff.
(01:27):
We're being opened up of amorning at staggered times.
We're on the threes, as inlanding 3.
Ours is 8 to 8.30, for what iscalled association, a comical
title in itself, and then bangedup again.
During this time, we're allowedto walk on the prison yard,
something I still haven't done,take a shower or use the phone.
(01:51):
Then it's bang up again.
I'm lucky, I've got work to goto, but for the rest of the
lads, it's behind the door untillet out for 10 minutes to pick
up lunch, and then the same fortea.
Out of the blue, the shyest,most timid and vulnerable
prisoner on our wing approachedme.
(02:12):
He's a small fella, alot like ahobbit.
Not blessed with height orlooks.
He asked me would I cut hishair, a clear sign my haircuts
were receiving positive reviews.
That, and I'm approachable.
These quieter guys are alwaysterrified of putting themselves
(02:32):
in situations where they'll bebullied or ridiculed.
I've said many times of my ownexperience that one just wants
to blend in unnoticed.
Hobbit had a visit.
His first since imprisoned.
He's been here four months andthis was his first.
(02:53):
I'll be honest.
I just wanted to cry just forthat.
How sad it is for many of thelads.
Before I could confirm Saturdaywhen I'm back from work, my two
finest barnets appeared, JC andNeil.
I said to little Paul theHobbit, you don't have to pay
for sex when you have a haircutlike that, my friend.
(03:15):
What are you looking for?
I swear I nearly choked when heasked me timidly, could you
leave it long?
Leave it long I thought?
How?
I've seen thicker mops on anewborn baby.
I knew he liked a bet, or atleast following the racing on
(03:36):
the TV.
Only one thing for it.
I could have you looking likeFrankie Dettori if you fancy?
It'll be a little different fromwhat you're thinking, but
Frankie Dettori...
you'll be wanting to leap offthe landing like you've just won
the Derby or the 3.30 atCheltenham.
Grooming wasn't on the shylittle fellow's radar.
(03:57):
My padmate was laughing like hewas on gas when I told him The
Hobbit had approached me.
Not Quasimodo, he said.
Then I told him, I said I couldhave him looking like Frankie
Dettori.
The salon is going well.
I cut three heads yesterday.
J, very thick hair.
Not a hint of thinning, but aninvasion of grey.
(04:20):
He loves a number 1 now on thesides, and a tough blend from
the 1 to the top.
I must admit, the pressure is onwith every cut.
Young Dan and The Glumster too.
He hasn't been talking to me fora week, but buckled for a
haircut.
He was on a visit today.
Give him credit where it's due,he's always pleased and always
genuinely grateful when I cuthis hair.
(04:43):
My pad mate is getting plenty ofshoutouts as to the training and
improved body shape, and withouthesitation, he always says, all
thanks to G-Dubz.
And then cracks a gag about myways.
Pleasant surprises are alwayswelcome, but nothing prepared us
by way of fun with Carl's storyof Glastonbury.
(05:06):
Even Mr.
H and Mr.
D were laughing like naughtyschoolboys listening.
We were all sat around in thekitchen waiting for lunch to
arrive, ie, the lads with thefood trolley.
The two minute walk from here tothe cooking kitchens is four
locked steel gates or doors oneway.
It can take 15 minutes or 40,socongregating and waiting is a
(05:29):
regular thing.
Lads are bored, hungry, and younever know what the topic of
banter may be.
Glastonbury started off quitetame, the usual stuff from
Scousers, bunking in, allScousers do it, it's the norm.
There's hardly any mention ofthe bands or artists.
It's drugs, drinks and partying.
(05:50):
However, it changed directionwhen Carl said he was dressed in
a Rambo outfit.
His pals were Harry Pottercharacters.
He had a toy machine gun, Ramboheadband and vest top, and lived
on liquid LSD for the wholeevent.
Five days.
As he said, it went from days ofbeing lost in drugs and music to
(06:13):
at one point listening to abunch of lads playing
instruments without any sound.
The guitars had no strings, buteveryone was still dancing and
raving.
He said he kept grabbing peopleand telling them he was taking
them hostage with his electricmachine gun that lit up like a
lightsaber.
Scouse Rambo is the first toadmit that his drink and drugs
(06:34):
use is way beyond that ofrecreational.
Apparently, they were pulled acouple of times by security over
their wristbands.
They told security they work forBobby's Burgers because one of
the lads had seen a burger vanwith Bob's burgers on it.
By day five, security were onthe case.
(06:55):
Rambo was collapsed in thefield.
Doesn't remember how he gotthere, but when he came to,
security was there and a band ofHare Krishnas, albeit at that
moment, Rambo didn't make theconnection.
No.
Instead, he believed he'd beenkidnapped by ISIS and they were
about to behead him.
(07:16):
He said, he was sobbing andpleading with them not to behead
him.
The cocktail of drugs they'dbeen on had finally taken their
toll.
I was really into thehallucinogenics G, I prefer the
white flaky stuff though.
As he likes to put it.
The security guy said, what areyou talking about, mate?
(07:39):
We're security.
We only want to throw you out.
You've had five days for free.
Carl said, imagine he's beingkicked out of Glasto, feels like
he's cold turkeying, andwandering the lanes of the
village still wearing hisbattered, filthy and torn Rambo
outfit.
If that wasn't crazy enough, ashe put it, I ended up back at me
(08:03):
Ma's, in my forties.
Thankfully she was away at meauntie's.
Anyway, I've gone to Glasto toget off the coke, but I end up
in my bedroom by myself doing ina grand's worth.
And I hadn't even paid for it.
JC turned up with a suit ofsorts and pulled me away from
(08:26):
the side splitting laughter.
I've learned by now, it onlymeans one thing.
One of the lads is off to afuneral and needs something
washed or ironed.
Up close, I recognized thejacket and trousers.
I'd washed and ironed themmonths ago for another lad.
He wore it with his father'stangerine shirt in memory.
(08:50):
The poor lad, whoever he is, hadnothing decent to wear, and J
had dug this out from the propsroom.
Apparently the young lad'ssister has passed away and she
was getting buried tomorrow.
I got to work straight away.
Sadly, the make-believe suit hadto go in the washing machine,
(09:11):
too smelly.
It had been stuck in props andsmells as bad as a musty damp
jumble sale.
I washed and ironed him a shirttoo, from one of the murder
trial lads.
He'd left it here.
He said he wouldn't be needingit again.
His life was over with 30 years.
Now it serves another purpose.
(09:32):
I've got to be honest, I wasproud of the outfit.
It looked and smelledpresentable.
I waited all afternoon for JC toturn up with the kid to try it
on.
Whilst waiting, I was chattingto a lad in the holding room.
He was on a legal visit at thesame time as me yesterday.
He'd been to court today.
He was trying to stop his twoyoung children from being
(09:54):
adopted.
His partner, and mother of thechildren, had gone off the
rails, picked the drink back up,and now on the gear.
It's an horrendous situation.
He's lost, and he's broken.
Only 24 hours ago, I'd said keepthe faith and don't give up.
(10:15):
Now he's locked in the holdingroom and life is in tatters.
The best I could do was make hima coffee and sort him a smoke
off one of the lads.
By five o'clock JC still hadn'treturned, and I was having a
deja vu with that sinkingfeeling.
When he finally appeared it wasbad news.
(10:36):
The Governor had rejected thelad's application to attend the
funeral.
This is not the first time.
Over the last couple of monthsit has become a trend.
I honestly can't imagine howmuch of a head fuck it must be
for the inmate.
HMP has sunk to a new low.
(10:56):
I've seen a guy dead on thefloor, abandoned and failed, and
now lads are being denied theright to attend a family
funeral.
This demonstrates how out oftouch the prison system is.
The suit never left the hanger.
Society has a grim view of howprisoners should be treated and
(11:17):
the footage bouncing around onthe news and the net only makes
the prison population look likea mob of despicables.
But surely people out therewould not oppose inmates going
to funerals.
If people out there knew thetruth of how we're being treated
and, just as bad, where is themoney going?
(11:41):
And to whom?
These high barbed walls andthese thick steel doors cannot
contain a man's spirit or hislove.
T said this to me this morningon the love call.
(12:04):
How does that not spur you on,when a woman loves and believes
in you, when you have losteverything and one's name is
trash.
I'm a very lucky guy.
Somehow, we seem to have lostmore, but gained even more.
Although most of this experienceis horrendous.
(12:27):
Sadly, once the phone is back onthe receiver, reality comes
sharply into focus.
I'm never far away from an idiotor angry head, and The
Despicables' caustic commentsoften feel like a jagged blade
tearing through my flesh, whilstthe person delivering with the
cutting remark smiles, orsniggers.
(12:50):
As awful as it sounds, I oftenthink in these moments, you need
to see a good dentist with thosetombstone teeth.
The best option, and how I'vesurvived to this point, is to
rise above it, remain composedand choose the right moments to
show one's teeth.
There are no guarantees on anygiven day that the bunk that you
(13:13):
wake up in will be the bunk thatyou sleep in.
Working in reception is likehaving a security blanket
wrapped around me, but it onlyoffers limited protection.
It's prison, and in any oneplace at any given time,
flareups explode into mayhem andcertainly violence.
(13:35):
Low moments appear in differentguises.
From things said, tofrustration, fuelled by
powerlessness and helplessness,or fear and jealousy.
However, I remain rooted toJeremy's words, we'll have you
out in 18 months.
And T's love.
(13:55):
Don't get me wrong.
There are nights I lay on topbunk with a flock of head fucks
that hijack any sleep.
I suppose it's not nightmares wesuffer with, but realities,
which feel far worse.
(14:17):
It's Tuesday.
I fear worse than Groundhog Day,it's going to be another deja vu
day.
The BBC prison news at 7:00 AMsummed up the prison crisis in a
nutshell.
It focused on Hindley, where theInspector of prisons said it's
easier to get drugs than cleanclothes and bedding.
(14:40):
That's true, and I thought itwas going to set the tone for
the day.
Definitely the conversation.
However, that line was surpassedby Rambo as we waited to be
picked up for work.
He broke the ice with, me cockwill be that hard when I get out
of here that a cat wouldn't beable to scratch its claws on it.
(15:05):
For all of his madness and mushybrain, courtesy of the white
powder, he's a sensitive soul.
He asked me to help him write aletter to an old friend who's
serving 20 years.
It's quite surreal.
Sat in prison writing a letterwith a guy who went to school
with you.
He took one path, and I another.
(15:27):
Ironically, 30 years since lastseeing him, we meet here.
I suggested in his letter hewrite, it's madness in here, but
I have found salvation.
He loved that and spoke of itfrequently to the lads.
His daughter was released fromStyal this morning.
(15:49):
Honestly, dad and daughter inprison at the same time.
You couldn't write it, but it'sgreat content.
But there are moments, gems thatglisten in the quagmire.
I found myself chatting withyoung D today after lunch.
A dodgy chicken salsa, soundsalmost exotic and nutritious,
(16:12):
but the chicken was in name onlyand the salsa had no sizzle.
I helped him clear the table andwash up just to keep busy.
You know what it's like,chatting questions, stories.
He's in for growing, cannabisthat is.
Nothing large scale, no, butenough to land him 20 months.
(16:34):
He asked me, did you really loseeverything G?
I told him I didn't lose T, ormy daughter or my parents, but
everything else was lost withinmonths of them coming through
the doors.
The fallout was catastrophic.
The financial side was ruinous.
(16:56):
He asked me, how will I make acomeback?
I told him that was easy.
Win the appeal.
Tonight, when I returned fromwork, there were two letters for
me under the door, one from Tand the other an
emailaprisoner.com from mydaughter.
T's letter in a card had a photoof a lighthouse perched on a
(17:20):
rock.
It's my favourite straightawayand I long for days when I can
escape to write in such a place.
My daughter's letter made meswell with emotion.
She's struggling with her bestfriend from school.
They've taken different paths inlife, and the growing pains into
adulthood can hurt at times.
(17:43):
I find it difficult not beingthere for her and hope that the
unconditional love, support andencouragement we provided give
her the foundation to understandand learn from these life
lessons.
In here I'm pretty powerless,and a visit here and there, and
a phone call a week, is not thesame as being there in person,
(18:06):
being her dad for real.
Another day is nearly done.
Tonight we're watchingRillington Place at 9:00 PM.
It's been a busy day.
Love calls times three, work,gym, letter for Rambo, I've
read, haircut for Neil, readagain, and then busy with the
(18:26):
end of day arrivals.
We finished at seven tonight, sonot late.
Treats and relaxation arecoffee, three digestives, read
my mail and then writing for anhour.
It's less than a month toChristmas and less than two and
I'll have been here for a year.
Day by day, I'm edging closer toit being over, although I still
(18:52):
turn over every morning lookingfor T and then realise I'm in a
prison cell, on top bunk.
During the three and a halfyears I was in prison, I wrote
(00:03):
over a million words by hand.
Tales from the Jails is acontemporaneous account of my
life, and attempts to thriverather than merely survive
whilst incarcerated.
Most names have been changed,but the events have not.
Episode 44 Rambo On AcidDecember is a week away.
(00:40):
What a month November has been,and it's only day 24.
The birthday cards have beenread many times by these eyes,
and these eyes only.
Once Mr.
R let the cat out of the bagwith the postal delivery, it was
gags and windups for two days.
All in good fun.
One of the lads asked me at thetable, how had I managed to get
(01:03):
Botox in?
I've said many times before thata day in the life of an inmate
can range from sublime to crazy,from heart wrenching sad to side
splitting funny.
Today was no exception.
Since the industrial action lastweek, a new regime has been
implemented due to the extremeshortage of staff.
(01:27):
We're being opened up of amorning at staggered times.
We're on the threes, as inlanding 3.
Ours is 8 to 8.30, for what iscalled association, a comical
title in itself, and then bangedup again.
During this time, we're allowedto walk on the prison yard,
something I still haven't done,take a shower or use the phone.
(01:51):
Then it's bang up again.
I'm lucky, I've got work to goto, but for the rest of the
lads, it's behind the door untillet out for 10 minutes to pick
up lunch, and then the same fortea.
Out of the blue, the shyest,most timid and vulnerable
prisoner on our wing approachedme.
(02:12):
He's a small fella, alot like ahobbit.
Not blessed with height orlooks.
He asked me would I cut hishair, a clear sign my haircuts
were receiving positive reviews.
That, and I'm approachable.
These quieter guys are alwaysterrified of putting themselves
(02:32):
in situations where they'll bebullied or ridiculed.
I've said many times of my ownexperience that one just wants
to blend in unnoticed.
Hobbit had a visit.
His first since imprisoned.
He's been here four months andthis was his first.
(02:53):
I'll be honest.
I just wanted to cry just forthat.
How sad it is for many of thelads.
Before I could confirm Saturdaywhen I'm back from work, my two
finest barnets appeared, JC andNeil.
I said to little Paul theHobbit, you don't have to pay
for sex when you have a haircutlike that, my friend.
(03:15):
What are you looking for?
I swear I nearly choked when heasked me timidly, could you
leave it long?
Leave it long I thought?
How?
I've seen thicker mops on anewborn baby.
I knew he liked a bet, or atleast following the racing on
(03:36):
the TV.
Only one thing for it.
I could have you looking likeFrankie Dettori if you fancy?
It'll be a little different fromwhat you're thinking, but
Frankie Dettori...
you'll be wanting to leap offthe landing like you've just won
the Derby or the 3.30 atCheltenham.
Grooming wasn't on the shylittle fellow's radar.
(03:57):
My padmate was laughing like hewas on gas when I told him The
Hobbit had approached me.
Not Quasimodo, he said.
Then I told him, I said I couldhave him looking like Frankie
Dettori.
The salon is going well.
I cut three heads yesterday.
J, very thick hair.
Not a hint of thinning, but aninvasion of grey.
(04:20):
He loves a number 1 now on thesides, and a tough blend from
the 1 to the top.
I must admit, the pressure is onwith every cut.
Young Dan and The Glumster too.
He hasn't been talking to me fora week, but buckled for a
haircut.
He was on a visit today.
Give him credit where it's due,he's always pleased and always
genuinely grateful when I cuthis hair.
(04:43):
My pad mate is getting plenty ofshoutouts as to the training and
improved body shape, and withouthesitation, he always says, all
thanks to G-Dubz.
And then cracks a gag about myways.
Pleasant surprises are alwayswelcome, but nothing prepared us
by way of fun with Carl's storyof Glastonbury.
(05:06):
Even Mr.
H and Mr.
D were laughing like naughtyschoolboys listening.
We were all sat around in thekitchen waiting for lunch to
arrive, ie, the lads with thefood trolley.
The two minute walk from here tothe cooking kitchens is four
locked steel gates or doors oneway.
It can take 15 minutes or 40,socongregating and waiting is a
(05:29):
regular thing.
Lads are bored, hungry, and younever know what the topic of
banter may be.
Glastonbury started off quitetame, the usual stuff from
Scousers, bunking in, allScousers do it, it's the norm.
There's hardly any mention ofthe bands or artists.
It's drugs, drinks and partying.
(05:50):
However, it changed directionwhen Carl said he was dressed in
a Rambo outfit.
His pals were Harry Pottercharacters.
He had a toy machine gun, Ramboheadband and vest top, and lived
on liquid LSD for the wholeevent.
Five days.
As he said, it went from days ofbeing lost in drugs and music to
(06:13):
at one point listening to abunch of lads playing
instruments without any sound.
The guitars had no strings, buteveryone was still dancing and
raving.
He said he kept grabbing peopleand telling them he was taking
them hostage with his electricmachine gun that lit up like a
lightsaber.
Scouse Rambo is the first toadmit that his drink and drugs
(06:34):
use is way beyond that ofrecreational.
Apparently, they were pulled acouple of times by security over
their wristbands.
They told security they work forBobby's Burgers because one of
the lads had seen a burger vanwith Bob's burgers on it.
By day five, security were onthe case.
(06:55):
Rambo was collapsed in thefield.
Doesn't remember how he gotthere, but when he came to,
security was there and a band ofHare Krishnas, albeit at that
moment, Rambo didn't make theconnection.
No.
Instead, he believed he'd beenkidnapped by ISIS and they were
about to behead him.
(07:16):
He said, he was sobbing andpleading with them not to behead
him.
The cocktail of drugs they'dbeen on had finally taken their
toll.
I was really into thehallucinogenics G, I prefer the
white flaky stuff though.
As he likes to put it.
The security guy said, what areyou talking about, mate?
(07:39):
We're security.
We only want to throw you out.
You've had five days for free.
Carl said, imagine he's beingkicked out of Glasto, feels like
he's cold turkeying, andwandering the lanes of the
village still wearing hisbattered, filthy and torn Rambo
outfit.
If that wasn't crazy enough, ashe put it, I ended up back at me
(08:03):
Ma's, in my forties.
Thankfully she was away at meauntie's.
Anyway, I've gone to Glasto toget off the coke, but I end up
in my bedroom by myself doing ina grand's worth.
And I hadn't even paid for it.
JC turned up with a suit ofsorts and pulled me away from
(08:26):
the side splitting laughter.
I've learned by now, it onlymeans one thing.
One of the lads is off to afuneral and needs something
washed or ironed.
Up close, I recognized thejacket and trousers.
I'd washed and ironed themmonths ago for another lad.
He wore it with his father'stangerine shirt in memory.
(08:50):
The poor lad, whoever he is, hadnothing decent to wear, and J
had dug this out from the propsroom.
Apparently the young lad'ssister has passed away and she
was getting buried tomorrow.
I got to work straight away.
Sadly, the make-believe suit hadto go in the washing machine,
(09:11):
too smelly.
It had been stuck in props andsmells as bad as a musty damp
jumble sale.
I washed and ironed him a shirttoo, from one of the murder
trial lads.
He'd left it here.
He said he wouldn't be needingit again.
His life was over with 30 years.
Now it serves another purpose.
(09:32):
I've got to be honest, I wasproud of the outfit.
It looked and smelledpresentable.
I waited all afternoon for JC toturn up with the kid to try it
on.
Whilst waiting, I was chattingto a lad in the holding room.
He was on a legal visit at thesame time as me yesterday.
He'd been to court today.
He was trying to stop his twoyoung children from being
(09:54):
adopted.
His partner, and mother of thechildren, had gone off the
rails, picked the drink back up,and now on the gear.
It's an horrendous situation.
He's lost, and he's broken.
Only 24 hours ago, I'd said keepthe faith and don't give up.
(10:15):
Now he's locked in the holdingroom and life is in tatters.
The best I could do was make hima coffee and sort him a smoke
off one of the lads.
By five o'clock JC still hadn'treturned, and I was having a
deja vu with that sinkingfeeling.
When he finally appeared it wasbad news.
(10:36):
The Governor had rejected thelad's application to attend the
funeral.
This is not the first time.
Over the last couple of monthsit has become a trend.
I honestly can't imagine howmuch of a head fuck it must be
for the inmate.
HMP has sunk to a new low.
(10:56):
I've seen a guy dead on thefloor, abandoned and failed, and
now lads are being denied theright to attend a family
funeral.
This demonstrates how out oftouch the prison system is.
The suit never left the hanger.
Society has a grim view of howprisoners should be treated and
(11:17):
the footage bouncing around onthe news and the net only makes
the prison population look likea mob of despicables.
But surely people out therewould not oppose inmates going
to funerals.
If people out there knew thetruth of how we're being treated
and, just as bad, where is themoney going?
(11:41):
And to whom?
These high barbed walls andthese thick steel doors cannot
contain a man's spirit or hislove.
T said this to me this morningon the love call.
(12:04):
How does that not spur you on,when a woman loves and believes
in you, when you have losteverything and one's name is
trash.
I'm a very lucky guy.
Somehow, we seem to have lostmore, but gained even more.
Although most of this experienceis horrendous.
(12:27):
Sadly, once the phone is back onthe receiver, reality comes
sharply into focus.
I'm never far away from an idiotor angry head, and The
Despicables' caustic commentsoften feel like a jagged blade
tearing through my flesh, whilstthe person delivering with the
cutting remark smiles, orsniggers.
(12:50):
As awful as it sounds, I oftenthink in these moments, you need
to see a good dentist with thosetombstone teeth.
The best option, and how I'vesurvived to this point, is to
rise above it, remain composedand choose the right moments to
show one's teeth.
There are no guarantees on anygiven day that the bunk that you
(13:13):
wake up in will be the bunk thatyou sleep in.
Working in reception is likehaving a security blanket
wrapped around me, but it onlyoffers limited protection.
It's prison, and in any oneplace at any given time,
flareups explode into mayhem andcertainly violence.
(13:35):
Low moments appear in differentguises.
From things said, tofrustration, fuelled by
powerlessness and helplessness,or fear and jealousy.
However, I remain rooted toJeremy's words, we'll have you
out in 18 months.
And T's love.
(13:55):
Don't get me wrong.
There are nights I lay on topbunk with a flock of head fucks
that hijack any sleep.
I suppose it's not nightmares wesuffer with, but realities,
which feel far worse.
(14:17):
It's Tuesday.
I fear worse than Groundhog Day,it's going to be another deja vu
day.
The BBC prison news at 7:00 AMsummed up the prison crisis in a
nutshell.
It focused on Hindley, where theInspector of prisons said it's
easier to get drugs than cleanclothes and bedding.
(14:40):
That's true, and I thought itwas going to set the tone for
the day.
Definitely the conversation.
However, that line was surpassedby Rambo as we waited to be
picked up for work.
He broke the ice with, me cockwill be that hard when I get out
of here that a cat wouldn't beable to scratch its claws on it.
(15:05):
For all of his madness and mushybrain, courtesy of the white
powder, he's a sensitive soul.
He asked me to help him write aletter to an old friend who's
serving 20 years.
It's quite surreal.
Sat in prison writing a letterwith a guy who went to school
with you.
He took one path, and I another.
(15:27):
Ironically, 30 years since lastseeing him, we meet here.
I suggested in his letter hewrite, it's madness in here, but
I have found salvation.
He loved that and spoke of itfrequently to the lads.
His daughter was released fromStyal this morning.
(15:49):
Honestly, dad and daughter inprison at the same time.
You couldn't write it, but it'sgreat content.
But there are moments, gems thatglisten in the quagmire.
I found myself chatting withyoung D today after lunch.
A dodgy chicken salsa, soundsalmost exotic and nutritious,
(16:12):
but the chicken was in name onlyand the salsa had no sizzle.
I helped him clear the table andwash up just to keep busy.
You know what it's like,chatting questions, stories.
He's in for growing, cannabisthat is.
Nothing large scale, no, butenough to land him 20 months.
(16:34):
He asked me, did you really loseeverything G?
I told him I didn't lose T, ormy daughter or my parents, but
everything else was lost withinmonths of them coming through
the doors.
The fallout was catastrophic.
The financial side was ruinous.
(16:56):
He asked me, how will I make acomeback?
I told him that was easy.
Win the appeal.
Tonight, when I returned fromwork, there were two letters for
me under the door, one from Tand the other an
emailaprisoner.com from mydaughter.
T's letter in a card had a photoof a lighthouse perched on a
(17:20):
rock.
It's my favourite straightawayand I long for days when I can
escape to write in such a place.
My daughter's letter made meswell with emotion.
She's struggling with her bestfriend from school.
They've taken different paths inlife, and the growing pains into
adulthood can hurt at times.
(17:43):
I find it difficult not beingthere for her and hope that the
unconditional love, support andencouragement we provided give
her the foundation to understandand learn from these life
lessons.
In here I'm pretty powerless,and a visit here and there, and
a phone call a week, is not thesame as being there in person,
(18:06):
being her dad for real.
Another day is nearly done.
Tonight we're watchingRillington Place at 9:00 PM.
It's been a busy day.
Love calls times three, work,gym, letter for Rambo, I've
read, haircut for Neil, readagain, and then busy with the
(18:26):
end of day arrivals.
We finished at seven tonight, sonot late.
Treats and relaxation arecoffee, three digestives, read
my mail and then writing for anhour.
It's less than a month toChristmas and less than two and
I'll have been here for a year.
Day by day, I'm edging closer toit being over, although I still
(18:52):
turn over every morning lookingfor T and then realise I'm in a
prison cell, on top bunk.
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