Oh! Before I forget, there IS one bit of news, or it might just be gossip or wishful thinking, you never can tell around here. Our wonderful Number One governor, he with the ego as big as Brighton Rock (ha ha), has departed, gone, left, moved to pastures new. Of course I asked about it and was told that he hadn't gone. So, as I say, gossip or wishful thinking - the fuel of prison life.
So, nothing to report at all really, but I did have an interesting conversation the other day with a kangaroo who clearly was as bored as me.
At this point I want to mention the art of asking stupid questions - and it is an art, well around here it is: "Are you reading that paper you are sitting on?" We all know the sort of thing I mean.
Right, to get back to the interesting conversation. During the course of it, the kanga asked me, "Frank," said he, clearly under the impression that we are related, "Frank, you can't have long to go now. You've been in a long time. How long?"
"Nearly twenty-four years," said I. "And thank you very much for reminding me."
He ignored that but went on. "You'll find things a bit different out there now. It's all changed now."
"Everything changes, in time," said I. "Even rivers change."
He ignored that too but went on to ask the question that started this whole thing off. "When you do go home," said he, "what will you do for a living?"
"Well," said I, "I've given that a bit of thought and to be quite frank about it I am torn between several possible careers."
"Oh yeah!" said he. "You mean with all the education you've done?"
"Not really," was my answer. "But I have got options."
"I wish I had options," said he. "What have you got lined up?"
"Well," said I, getting ready to deliver my normal plethora of idiotic abuse. "I can't make my mind up whether to be a film star or a drug dealer. Mind, I've also been thinking about lap-dancing for the over sixties with a little part time job doing favours for sailors down the docks. According to Blackadder there's good money in that. I considered being a model but I haven't got the legs for tights. I'm keeping my options open, I haven't decided yet."
I kept my face straight through all that too.
He looked at me and finally said, "You know something, some people think that you are just taking the piss half the time."
"Ah!" said I. "That's because I am taking the piss."
"It's no good talking to you," said he and went off to be bored elsewhere.
Why do people ask stupid questions? Maybe it's just me. Maybe I attract them. Maybe I have the face that cries out to the rest of the world and invites silly people to ask silly questions and I haven't got the decency or social grace NOT to take the opportunity to take the piss. This clearly makes me a bad person.
Mind, when you think about it, lap dancing for the over sixties isn't THAT bad an idea. I might get on the telly!
Yeah! Crime Watch!
Happy New Year.
The Voice In The Wilderness
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