He was panicking when he called. “I’m really scared,” he said. “I’m the only one not taking part in the hunger strike”. I don’t know if the three episodes of OZ he’s watched in his lifetime are stuck in his head, but god only knows what he thought was going to happen to him if he ate what could arguably be considered the worst chicken parm in existance.
“Make sure you eat,” he told me via the prison visitor phone. “Don’t forget to eat.” “I had yogurt for lunch,” I replied. “Real food, I mean.” “Yogurt is real food. And I had oatmeal for dinner.” “Real food,” he said again, rolling his eyes.
It’s Sunday, and it’s groundhog day. This is the one day every year when a group of weird old men can harass a rodent and not only is it broadcast live, but the headline doesn’t include the phrase “Florida man…”. There’s also some sort of game on tonight. Yay sports! We went to the Warhammer…