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| PRISONER'S LOG #001:003 |  | Category: Work
Sunday, June 29th, 2003 @ 03:41 pm
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 After I voluntarily gave myself up for incarceration, I was airlifted to my new confinement. I arrived at my cell at somepoint in the night on Thursday, June 26th. I'm not quite sure when, time moves funny in this place.
My captors seem affable enough, and my cell even has a kitchenette -- It could be much worse, but it could be much better. Not soon after settling in, I began hatching my escape plan. That only lasted long enough for me to come to the realization that I was in Kansas City, a veritable Alcatraz. No man would dare escape, lest he risk death at the hand of mother nature's cruelest employee: boredom. My captors are cunning. They new no one would try to leave this godforsaken place simply because there is nothing to do anywhere else around here.
I needed to establish a connection to the outside world as soon as possible and I only had one means, the underground delivery system of theives and beggars: dial-up. This equipped me with a way to communicate with my contacts, but unfortunately getting real news from the outside is slow-going at best.
Sustanance is scarce, but when it comes, its usually barable fare. My rations last night consisted of grilled cattle meat, toobers with aged dairy products sprinkled on top, and a concoction of barley, hops and water allowed to fester. You can live off it, but trust me, no man in his right mind would choose to.
Well, that's about all I have time for right now, I opted for a work-release program that hopefully will get me back on the outside faster.
Viva La Resistance!
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