Leave me alone, and don’t talk to me about it
http://www.tygrrrrexpress.com/2008/05/leave-me-alone-and-dont-talk-to-me-about-it/
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THE TYGRRRR EXPRESS 
micky2 said,
May 3, 2008 at 12:36 pm
I wish the same sentiments were applied to the media.
It never fails. I sit down to eat dinner and watch the news and all the commercials during dinner have to do with some bodily function, or lack of.
No offense, but a lot of your feelings reflect the rules in the pen.
Dont say anything that doesnt need to be said. Dont volunteer anything that is not necessary. Keeping the peace is a very high priority in the slammer.
Then again, maybe I didnt need to say all that.
Gayle said,
May 3, 2008 at 1:12 pm
Micky brings up the same thing I was going to bring up, Eric. The Media advertises everything. Is nothing sacred anymore. Some of those commercials are not only embarrassing, they are disgusting and have the power to spoil my appetite. I don’t watch tv while I eat, but I do watch it in the evening while I’m preparing dinner, something I’m going to have to quit doing if I want to eat and actually enjoy my meal! There is no good old-fashioned respect anymore. I don’t know about the slammer, but I sure would hate to go there just to get peace and quiet! LOL!
Jersey McJones said,
May 3, 2008 at 3:07 pm
What a fascinating point Micky has injected into this. In jail, there is a code of conduct probably quite similar to the most upper-class snooty protocol. I’ll never forget the time I coincidentally mentioned a guys name in front of the brother of a girl who died in a DWI that was the fault of the mentioned guy. This burly, angry young guy suddenly puts his cards on the table (yes, that’s what we do in jail – play endless, ENDLESS cards) looks at me and demands I tell him everything I know about this unfortunate dude. Now, here we had one mistake being compounded by another. So I lied. I said I didn’t know much about the guy or the accident. After that, I shut the … up. It’s best to be careful for the sake of polite conversation. However, when we have a lot in common, when we are close friends or kin, then have fun, say whatever you want. Otherwise, new, good ideas will never see daylight. And have as much fun as you can on the net. It might not always be there.
JMJ
charly martel said,
May 3, 2008 at 3:14 pm
Jersey,
Just what would you know about upper-class protocol?
Jersey McJones said,
May 3, 2008 at 3:18 pm
Charlie, you’d be very surprised if you knew to whom I am related.
JMJ
chris naron said,
May 3, 2008 at 3:34 pm
Wow. I must come from a very different world. In the rural South where the scatalogical is so ubiquitous, one has to make fun of it in order to cope. Plus, working construction will strip off any veneer of decorum. You can’t spend fifteen minutes looking for a Port-a-Potty no one knows about. 🙂
It sucks at school because there’s only one men’s room in our building, and we all have to wait between classes. If you have any business of the sit down variety, you’re going to get razzed through the door.
Maybe that’s why public schools are a mess.
micky2 said,
May 3, 2008 at 4:43 pm
Yeah Chris !
I worked rebar for 3 years. What a bunch of booze guzzling ass grabbing foul mouthed characters.
(but really good people)
Its a far cry from being head waiter and dining room manager at Fraunces Tavern on Broad and Pearl about a block from the NYSE.
I guess the point is that we as humans are capable of adapting our conduct if its deemed necessary
charly martel said,
May 3, 2008 at 5:17 pm
Jersey,
Please, oh please, surprise me.
Jersey McJones said,
May 3, 2008 at 5:18 pm
Remember Charlie, there are things we shouldn’t talk about. 😉
JMJ
micky2 said,
May 3, 2008 at 6:40 pm
Jersey is real tight with Hoffa
Eagle 6 said,
May 3, 2008 at 9:07 pm
Eric, I remember I was about 16 years old – blond and young – and used to go to Jackson State Pen to spar with some of the inmates. there wasn’t a third floor, or a sixth – just an open commode…I was very private, but some of the guys made me really nervous and kept staring while I tried to do my business. I was so naive, I didn’t know about butt pirates. Heck, I didn’t even know about girls… but the tension caused me to develop something you don’t want to talk about but that salve they put on it didn’t work, so it was cut out, but here’s the good news: once you spend some time in jail, in the military eating C rats or plug-em for a month MREs, in the South with the aforementioned construction crews, in the north with a bunch of tire builders, and get married and spend an hour or so in the delivery room, then help your wife with the babies for tthe next couple years, all this will pass…and hopefully it will pass as gas…
charly martel said,
May 3, 2008 at 11:57 pm
Micky,
😀
Skul said,
May 4, 2008 at 9:23 am
OK, Eric. Did you put the sports section back?
Bald-Headed Geek said,
May 4, 2008 at 5:25 pm
Hope that all is well, Eric, sorry about the low level of posting. I’ve been immersed in the Stanley Cup playoffs, and am now sitting Shivah for my beloved Habs…….
BHG
Dave the Infidel Sage said,
May 5, 2008 at 9:38 pm
That fact that I can relate to so much of this post is both scary and amusing. Well stated, in an understated way.
Joshua Godinez said,
May 7, 2008 at 11:52 am
I agree for the most part. That’s why I was so horrified when they removed the doors in school reading rooms. In a building with few rooms and no expectation of privacy one gets used to sharing the room. However, I was still shocked the first time someone spoke to me while conducting business. I mumbled something and got out of there as quickly as possible.
I’ll have to admit, though, that in very personal conversations the subject has been discussed in detail as a source of amusement. Eric won’t be invited and will be delighted in his absence.
My most recent quandry was last week making the packing list for my Girl Scout troop to go camping. As the camping advisor I have to ensure the girls know what to pack. Some of it is easy. Some of it is more difficult because they’re young enough to forget things like spare underclothes, especially ones that they’re only now beginning to wear. And now some of them are old enough that they need personal items that had to be listed because they wouldn’t think to bring them if I didn’t point out that there might be a necessity. I bungled it terribly and have now learned some new terms that can be used in the future so that I sound less crass and yet still present a complete personal items list. Guiding your kids through puberty is one of God’s practical jokes, I think.