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A Scene From the Crow's Nest

In the preceding few months, a few of our residents living in Texas prisons have been found with cell phones. Having a call while seated on Death Row is strictly forbidden since these criminals are not alleged to suffer the exemption to "give out and meet someone" any more. These inmates need to be counting down the transactions to their performance instead of vocation for the time and temperature.

I don't recognize how these jailbirds are obtaining their phones, but I do know they weren't standing in air at some kiosk at the mall pondering over various call plans. Nope, they must have some pal on the outside sneaking it in to their cell. Back in the old days, you'd find hacksaws hidden inside fruitcakes; now you find iPhones.

There's one lad who was recently caught with his cell phone hidden up in his lower intestines. This is one desperate guy who must be grateful that the new cell phones aren't the size of the first models that appeared 15 days ago. I remember seeing phones the sizing of shoeboxes with an antenna that extends out two feet. I doubt any inmate would be hiding one of those babies up where the sun don't shine.

This brings up several questions in my slightly warped mind. What ringtone do you think that fella chose before placing his ring into his orifice? "Bad Moon Rising"? Maybe "Shake Your Booty" or M.C. Hammer's "Can't Touch This" would be the strain of choice. Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" would likewise be appropriate. Personally, if I were to play my bowels into a telephone booth, I'd select Johnny Paycheck's "Take This Job and Thrust It". I think an appropriate ringtone for winning the promenade to Old Sparky with a concealed Nokia in one's innards could be Aerosmith's "Walk This Way".

Can you think the heart of this guy? I already own a pet peeve when someone takes a song while I'm talking to him. Imagine this inmate standing in face of the parole board and suddenly the theme song to "Green Acres" starts playing from his buttocks. "Excuse me, folks, while I miss my pants and fill this call".
Another interview that arose from that dark realm of my judgment is "How does this jailbird recharge his phone?" Does he get to abide in the throne and get a digit in the light socket? Perhaps he has extra batteries stored in each ear.

Does this guy have call forwarding? If so, where does the name go after leaving his call? To his spleen?
What alibi do you believe this convict gave to the warden when his hidden phone was discovered? "Honest, Warden, I don't recognize how it got there". "Dang! I've been looking for that since 1998". If he was smart, he'd say it was a camera phone and he required a colonoscopy.

If I was in point of the prisoners on Death Row, I'd make them all cell phones, and leave their telephone numbers to all the telemarketers. Or would that be considered inhumane?

Maybe I'm being a little rough on these incarcerated members of society. There may be a fair explanation for having a phone wedged between one's sphincter muscles. Maybe the guy was going to visit his momma after his performance to recite her that he made it safely to his new home, and ask, " Ma, would you mind sending me some deodorant because it's hotter than hell down here". Perhaps these prisoners weren't even aware phones aren't permitted in jail. After all, they're called "cell" phones, aren't they?