December 18-20, 1998

"the telltale purloined art
letter to rue morgue"

We locked down at 9:30 last nite  (after watching Lethal  Weapon 4) in order for the swing shift to evacuate to an $800  catered Xmas party. Innarestin'  Ramsey item  (at last)  in Saterday's Camera.  Seems  the owners of the Rue Morgue bookstore received the 10th subpeona  issued by the grand jury.  (You  know)   I  couldn't help but RECALL that  in August 97  (or thereabouts)  that VERY bookstore was chosen from either the phonebook,  or,  from an ad in a newspaper,  to  be a RECIPIENT of a very ODD letter indeed.  What  I  can NOT recall  is whether I wrote it, or my then cell  neighbor, NICK LOWE, or if we both  might have put  a lil' something on it.   As  if to say,  "Who cares."  Freak out the random citizenry with unwanted truths.   One thing I  KNOW FOR   SURE, in a Nixonian  lockstep campaigning way, is that the RUE MORGUE bookstore was sent something from ONE OF US. Now Nick,  see,  he was  "the Boulder Burglar".. .proud of his 86 counts. And he started copying my "community outreach" methods,.......first tailored rightly to HIS thing.    That is to say he'd mention antics what went on inside the burgled businesses.   How hard or easy to find the safe etc. I  believe he was REAL FOND of a story about breaking in to the Jin Chan Chinese restaurant and urinatin  in/spraying fire extinguishers on the food, and then coming there with other burglars the next day and seeing the place had basically just scraped the MUCK outta the food but still  they served it to the unsuspecting public wearing thier fur dog coats, coughing out thier madcow disease, and drinking themselves  into stupors.   "It's natural . . .everyone does  it".  (Even people with  helaciouss  nodules.)  But I duress . So Nick copies my random letter   Nudge/Zen until  we start arguing cuz  he starts  tossing in too many JBR's.   I  know he once wrote,  "The ghost of JBR walks the tier at nite  lookin  for daddy."   Got so thAt  I was tearing my hair out since Nick didn't/wouldn't understand the  finer NUANCES of what I was doing my letters  for,  and what I would/wouldn't  include  in them.   Sure enough, along comes  Detective Gosage with a tape recorder.   He takes Nick's hair/saliva/handrwiting samples and asks  him specifcally about the denominations  asked for  in the as-yet-unpublished ransom note.   AND further, sure enough, bang,  I  got moved outta the comfortable quirky SMAN pod and over into  intake.   Later Detective Gosage called Nick's mother DEBBI  LOWE in Victoria, British Columbia where she'd just then recently moved.   Gosage wanted to know about Nicks whereabouts on Xmas 96...  he and his mother had both lived in the metro area at the time.   Also wanted to know if she knew if Nick knew ME on "the outs."   What a mess...  I  hear they argued.   Another place that I'm sure Nick wrote to  is COX LAWNMOWER REPAIR not far from the jail.   IN OTHER NEWS: DAVE RODRIGUEZ at 3O3-XXX-4X79 was a WITNESS to the lengthy neglectful  death,  so the story goes, of a drunken Mr. Carpenter in cell  26 in Intake.   I've never met this Dave but since we're all, OH SO INTERACTIVE THESE DAYS...  bang. ...there is his number. ...supplied happily by a guy named PAD HEGE  (believe it or not/from the South).   PAD said Dave heard Carpenter answering guards questions about his BAC by saying he'd blown a 3.7/...-and that he heard guards talking about "we NEVER should have accepted. him here."    AND that Carpenter was shakin like a  leaf all  day and reekin of DT's . . . and that a guard stood for "hours", they say, calling Carpenter from outside his cell  door but NEVER going in to CHECK why he wouldn't ANSWER. But in recognition of the fact that were all  gonna  DIE sometime lets move on to something else.    (I'll  end up in the Beijing County Jail  for sure when THAT one gets  posted.... don't MEDDLE  (interfere)  in COVER UPS.. will I never learn.?) Nothing new in Brennon's long Sun. Article except that balcony photos WERE taken at Charlevoix house. FOR XMAS I'd like not to get beaten,  to be alone, and MOST OF ALL to have 2 or 3 cups of PuertoRican coffee like they make on the Lower East Side. I  should also meditate on whether it's better to i LIVE or i GO TO JAIL. and IF it's better to go to jail  and restart life later I'd like to call that either 1). wanting to go to jail... .or 2).  "seeking attention." You sure Can DISTINGUISH the knock of a cop at the door especially when no one else is coming round.   But let's  FORGET about ALL the unwanted visits I endured from them and steam ahead to me getting a good Alli  Krupski  article in the Boulder Daily Camera for me to take in the shower and YANK with for TWO YEARS. "ATTENTION!!!!" "I'm all I wanna be." Me Me Me. Oh,  deary dear,  nopey, nope nope.....  I'm NOT gonna AFFECT 'the change' ... you  know,  the big BS "change"... .the "show"  people wanna see as one looks towards exiting jail.   So put some liqour in a baby bottle and hide it behind a bush across the street from the jail .   I'll  shriek,  "WAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH," as  I rummage for it next summer... .and more,  I'll  follow that up with  a triple retarded arm curl  and the lilting statement that "ALL PEOPLE ARE FREAKS." Onward: the fattest blowhardiest idiot here bailed out yesterday; only for Xmas.   He left his shampoo(& stuff) with my cellie   for when he gets back. Home sweet home.   He'll  rescind his  bond after Xmas in order to keep acruing time B4 sentencing.   Counting on it.   Me,  they clip off SEVEN MONTHS dead time. "Whaaaaaaaaares the complaint form????!! ! !"   Oh,  it's RELEVANTLY right HERE.   DEAD QUIET IN THE POD WHEN CLINTON GOT IMPEACHED SATURDAY. thats entertainment. Merry Xmas, J.T.Colfax [email protected]   current | 1999 | 1998 | colfax diaries