Springfest/WWHD Part 3: Cystic Fibrosis

Let's just say jail sucks!

As soon as I got into Holding Cell 3 a bunch of annoying freshmen and sophomores from various state schools greeted me. Some were even from Westfield! (My home area). I made a point to not identify themselves because they were so annoying.

I was in that stinkin' cell for 14 hours! I was booked around 6 p.m., and didn't get released until around 8:30 a.m. Not fun at all, especially when you only blow a .08, which might be the legal limit for driving, but trust me when I say it's not drunk at all.

So, for the first two hours, one annoying kid from Tech banged on the windows. He wanted the guards to know that he had CYSTIC FIBROSIS. I've never been a vengeful person in my life, but I now hope that anyone I dislike strongly gets a strong case of CYSTIC FIBROSIS. This dumbass banged on the window for two hours, making Cs and Fs with his hands to signal CYSTIC FIBROSIS. He would often get confused on whether his letters were backwards. The dumbass never got his medicine he was clamoring for, but for two hours! -- FUCK YOU GUARDS! I HAVE CYSTIC FIBROSIS! CYSTIC FIBROSIS! CYSTIC FIBROSIS! CYSTIC FIBROSIS!

I am not even exaggerating. I felt a lot better today when I saw this kid getting arrested in a video, which has since been taken down. Haha. I bet his friends and many people pressured him to remove it because many are paranoid of getting identified in the next few days.

Other highlights of my night in the slammer included seeing a whole cell of dudes from Chantilly, who don't go to college. Hahaha. Poor guys were totally being scrutinized because of the color of their skin. Not cool.

There was a crazy old drunk in the other cell next to me, who had to be strapped down to a chair. At 3 a.m. he was still yelling at the correction officers, particularly one blond co-ed.

"BITCH, BITCH," he would yell. It really wasn't funny because I couldn't get any sleep on the cold floor in my T-shirt. He kept at it though. "GOD DAMN. GOD DAMN. BITCH. GET ME OUT HERE. DAMN IT, THIS HURTS. BITCH. BITCH."

I finally got out in the morning after almost no sleep. Jail really sucks. I was worried at 6:30 a.m., that I would never get out because one of my dumb cellmates from Westfield! was talking shit to the guards.

"You can s my d," he said. (I cleansed that quote for the younger readers like Lovings.) I'm thinking to myself, "What the hell are you doing? That is not going to get any of us out of here quicker."

I was released at about 8:30 a.m., and was excited to hear that the dumbass I just mentioned was going to have to stay a couple of extra hours. Sadly, they let him go at the same time as me. DAMN! I really wanted his annoying ass to stay.

I almost forgot about the shitty breakfast they tried to serve us. Disgusting.

Long story short, don't ever go to jail. If you have friends who are police, don't approach them while they're in SWAT gear. They're probably jacked up on Red Bull or Jooze and don't have time for anyone.

Thanks Humphrey for letting me out of your sight.