[mburbank]

I wish you could to. Then your cellmate wouldn't have needed to waste valuable ink tattooing that woman on your back.

Vincey. Honestly. We're all friends here. You're Rough Trade. Anyone could see it. Nothing oozes transgressive gay pheramones like a good "Kill 'em all let God sort 'em out" faux attitude like yours. Mmmmm-mmm! THAT's officer material.

Either that or your kind of pasty faced and stringy and with a nice gray green monitor tan. Bark for me baby. Your I-mockery's own angry little tea cup poddle. Put your dog sweater on. It's COLD in here.

Now write me an essay on what it feels like to be taken less seriously than Ronnie Reagan, tough guy.