I’m about to serve 18 months in FED prison here in Phoenix Arizona, has anyone here been locked up in DOC here in Arizona and if so how were the rules from CO’s and the rules from inmates, will I be able to serve my time in peace and not have to worry about my life constantly, how is the food compared to Maricopa county sheriffs office jail, I mean I’m not expecting the ritz carlton whatsoever but I just wanna be able to give and get respect keep to my self stay healthy and not starve for a year and a half is it vegan food like MCSO? Thank you to anyone that gives me some information I hope you all have a wonderful day.

This is one of those days I put my earbuds in and crank up the music. Balmy low barometer days are never fun for an old retired electrician.
I was thinking about grandmas house, Junior’s grandma. There was something in her backyard that interested the Indiana State Police shortly after their summer wading in shitty brown Wabash River water. There was some reason they were there in force digging through years of Coffee grounds, potato peelings Brown bananas, rotten peas, 10 Chunks of sour cottage cheese... I think someone tipped ISP investigators on grandma’s trash pit on the outskirts of town. They knew someone burned something in that large garbage/burn pit you can see from Google Earth.
There’s no mistaking who the tipster could have been. The one guy that knew what was thrown in the Wabash River below the Kelly Street Bridge. The guy seen in his bright orange Property of Miami County Jail jumpsuit. Wrists shackled at the waist and escorted by two plainclothes ISP detectives that logged him out of the county lockup for a brief jaunt around his hometown. This was no Warped Tour— these men were serious. They were being escorted to that site where Junior must have told the detectives his own dad threw that old hunting knife. A bloody murder weapon. He had to get rid of it somewhere— living in rural Indiana that muddy River was his safest bet. He could drive by it everyday on his way to work in Kokomo— the sick POS.
Junior told them where they’d find that murder weapon. Who else could have led them there last summer. Things started moving once they shook that tree. They let Junior know in no uncertainty they knew he used one of his electronic devices to look up the Marathon Gas Station in Delphi that morning. They had a 20 something year old man languishing away in a county jail paranoid that he’d get ALL the CSAM charges, including the 2 count first degree murder charges for killing two kids. I guarantee anyone reading my words that freaked the Junior out. It was a planted story to get him thinking— get him even more paranoid he’d get all the blame for that day in Delphi. He’s a manipulator and exploiter of vulnerable young girls— but he’s no killer. The killer is that other actor living in that shithole of a 2 story claptrap dirty white house on the banks of that impossibly muddy River. You ever seen that Tik Tok What’s Your Name? Me being Ezekiel— I’d love to yell across the Wabash River to that house… What’s your name? If you’ve seen the Tik Tok you know what I’m talking about.
The ISP found that knife. I don’t know that as fact, I know it as in I have faith they didn’t stop until they did find it. A literal needle hidden on that muddy River bottom. They found the knife and it allowed them to move to the next location. I suspect ISP investigators stealthily drove past grandma’s house that day with the big guy in the orange suit slouched down in his seat. I don’t doubt they have him on video pointing out exactly where his daddy burned his signature black ski mask, black jeans, black hoodie, and black boots. I have no doubts he threw in the purple PT Crusier floor mat(s), the cheap aftermarket car seat covers and the fuzzy purple steering wheel cover grandma so much cherished.
The very fact that ISP investigators were sifting through years of ashes in grandmas backyard burn pit makes me confident somebody snitched. You know the old saying Snitches get Stitches. Not this time, because there’s no way in hell they are going to let the daddy man anywhere near his only son. It was no easy task to get a search warrant to search a little old ladies backyard burn pit— trust me. This lady had nothing to do with what happened that day. Her only misfortune is the fact she gave birth to a monster.
The Indiana State Police had to have found that killers knife. I say that because I think it took them finding it where, and the way, it was described by Junior. I doubt it has any fingerprints on it, or traceable DNA. If it had the owner would be in the same predicament as his little buddy from Mexico right now. It was enough to allow the ISP investigators to go to the judge with Junior’s taped statement and the photos of that knife risen from that dirty water. It was enough evidence and just enough credibility to juniors statement to get the search warrant probable cause affidavit to search a little old ladies trash/ burn pit filled with ….
With bacon rinds and chicken bones
drippy ins of ice cream cones Prune pits, peach pits, orange peels Gluppy glumps of cold oat meal, pizza crust and withered greens And soggy beans and tangerines and crust of black burned buttered toast And gristly bits of beefy roast
Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout-
Shel Silverstein
I grew up listening to this guys poetry… my grandmother gave me his published poems when I was that age 13-14.
The three of them stole those two young girls lives. I know the men and women in law enforcement, that have worked on solving these horrific murders. They will not stop until all three are safely in a cold concrete and steel 6x9 cell, with a thin pad on a concrete bed
F___ You T___!
I had to quit Tik Tok btw. Too time consuming. I don’t miss it..
I

It’s a slow day. Thought I’d make it a two post day just because. I was reading some comments about the search warrants for Allen’s property, and just decided I have to throw my two cents in- again. I say again because I’m aware I tend to repeat myself. But alas I think the matter of the search warrants are critically important to understand what’s going on. And I don’t say that as a fact, rather I’m just giving my speculation what happened that October 13, 2022 at Richard Allen’s property on Whiteman Road in Delphi.
I just read a comment where someone suggested there was a lot of mess ups with the search warrant for Allen’s property. I disagree. I think the ISP investigators were able to secure a warrant for Allen’s property shortly after having left the two guys from Peru, Indiana’s mothegrandmothers backyard. We do know ISP investigators were in this little old ladies burn/trash pit just prior to looking in Allen’s burn pit. They were obviously looking in this little old ladies trash burn pit ashes because someone told investigators something was burned there. They could not have procured legal access to that little old ladies burnt trash on a whim. They had to have had someone say they knew something vital to the Delphi murder investigation was thrown in that pit and burned. This little old lady had absolutely nothing to do whatsoever with what happened in Delphi on Ron Logan’s land— as we all know. Who could have known something important was burned there— let alone snitched to the ISP something was in that pit?
So the ISP investigators were able to secure a search warrant probable cause affidavit to search her trash dump. There are published news stories that confirm the ISP investigators were there just one short week after the Wabash River search concluded on and early Monday afternoon. The published reports specifically say they were “sifting through ashes”.
No sooner were those ISP investigators done sifting through granny’s garbage/ashes, and the next thing we know they are seen in the PREDAWN hours sifting though a pile of ashes in Allen’s backyard behind a shed. So we can conclude the ISP investigators wrapped up in Peru and headed straight to Allen’s house. This is the kind of dramatic stuff movies are made of.
Just like granny’s backyard burn pit limited search warrant probable cause affidavit— Richard Allen is handed the same limited search warrant PCA to search his backyard for any signs of something burned. I suspect they banged on his door early that morning on October 13, 2022— long before the sun came up. They were in Allen’s backyard using “flashlights to sift through ashes” behind his shed. That’s a fact. There are numerous published eyewitness accounts from Allen’s neighbors stating that’s what the plain clothes investigators were doing.
So it is safe to assume there were TWO search warrant served on Richard Allen and his wife that day—- October 13, 2022. The first search warrant gave investigators a very limited scope of what they could look for in this guys backyard. A guy with a clean criminal record, and trusty worthy enough to have been a licensed pharmacy Technician in the State of Indiana. A guy nobody knew about until several weeks later when he was arrested for the murders of Abby and Libby.
We also know there was a lull in the search that day. Eyewitness reports tell of the Allen’s sitting outside their house along with an idle group of ISP investigators. I have to suspect they found exactly what they were looking for in the small pile of ashes behind his shed. There are published photos of that pile of ashes online and easy to find.
iSP Investigators waited patiently with the Allen’s outside the house while Tony Liggett was dispatched with the CC prosecutor (I would also assume) to go back to the judge for the SECOND search warrant PCA that day. The second search warrant PCA would include the right to search Allen’s house, and I think it’s safe to say— look for a large frame semiautomatic handgun and a box of .40 S&W bullets. As someone once pointed out to me— Richard Allen’s SIG Sauer P226 .40 S&W was on file in the Carroll County Courthouse file on Conceal Carry weapons, which Richard Allen had legally registered to carry his big gun. They knew he had the gun— they needed a witness to say he used it that day, and he burned bloody evidence in his backyard.
I could be wrong— but I speculate there were two search warrant PCA’s served on Richard Allen on that that date- October 13, 2022. It explains the “flashlights” in the early morning while sifting through ashes of all things. It also explains the Allen’s and the plainclothes investigators all standing around while seemingly waiting for something. It explains Richard Allen’s wife seen sitting the couples vehicle while I’m sure Ricky was nervously pacing around the driveway. It’s very possible he put that gun back up in his closet shelf never using it again— and never realizing he’d ejected a bullet on Logan’s land found 2’ from Libby. That second search warrant PCA is the reason he’s been sitting in jail the past 8 months with no bail, and now he’s even given up asking for bail at the present time.
I don’t know why but I think of that song by Drowning Pool when I think of Richard Allen. The song Let the Bodies Hit the Floor it’s that crazy little dance he does for his wife while playing pool and wearing that hat I swear is the hat BG was wearing that day. He’s got that nervous explosive energy thing going on with him— when he walks past his wife and does that crazy spasmodic mosh pit dance thing…
*Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floor
Beaten, why for Can't take much more (Here we go, here we go, here we go now)
One, nothing wrong with me Two, nothing wrong with me Three, nothing wrong with me Four, nothing wrong with me
One, something's got to give Two, something's got to give Three, something's got to give now
Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floor*
I think he’s perfectly capable of an explosive type of anger. I think somebody knew that about his little buddy from Mexico. I think he also knew he lived there right by the Monon High Bridge.
e/please don’t take offense to these lyrics. It’s a song about respecting one another in a mosh pit. Something I’ve never done— but I know my two 40 year old boy’s used to do to expend nervous energy. For some reason I have a habit of equating people to songs I know. Strange, but hey— I’m old.

Company Name	Title	City
United States Secret Service	Criminal Investigator	Dayton
The Meadows of Delphos	RN - Registered Nurse	Delphos
The Meadows of Delphos	RN - Registered Nurse - Weekend Only	Delphos
Cypress Pointe Health Campus	RN-Registered Nurse	Englewood
Valley View Healthcare Center	RN - Registered Nurse	Fremont
Norwich Springs Health Campus	RN- Registered Nurse	Hilliard
Empowerme Wellness	Physical Therapist (PT) *$3,000 Sign On Bonus	Loveland
Smiths Mill Health Campus	RN- Registered Nurse -Weekend Only	New Albany
Southern Health Partners	Correctional Nurse	Summit County Jail-
Epic Specialty Staffing (formerly known as Mission Search)	Radiation Therapist Troy OH	Troy
RTI International	Field Interviewer - NSFG	Akron
Astellas	Clinical Sales Professional, Community Specialties - Akron, OH	Akron
Professional Dynamics	Plant Maintenance Engineer	Alliance
RTI International	Experienced Electronic Field Mapping Lister - NSDUH	Athens
Pinstripes, Inc.	Front of House Manager	Beachwood
Robin Industries, Inc.	Tooling Engineer	Berlin
UniFirst	Route Service Representative - UniFirst	Blacklick
Zimmer Biomet	Business Intelligence Senior Analyst (721724)	Broadview Heights
AEG Vision	Patient Care Coordinator	Bryan
Michigan Milk Producers Assoc	Maintenance	Canton
Ohio Peterbilt	Truck Technician Canton Peterbilt $5,000.00 Signing Bonus	Canton
Best Point Education & Behavioral Health	YMCA Aide	Cincinnati
Core Crew LLC	Powder Coater	Cincinnati
Innova Solutions	Customer Service Representative	Cincinnati
Core Crew LLC	Press Break Operator	Cincinnati

Hey guys, here are some recent job openings in oh. Feel free to comment here or send me a private message if you have any questions, I'm at the community's disposal! If you encounter any problems with any of these job openings please let me know that I will modify the table accordingly. Thanks!

I appreciate everyone in this sub Reddit. I haven’t posted anything here yet but I have read a lot. I have been working on a book for the last several months and I have 28,200 words. I would like to share one of my chapters to get feedback.
This is chapter 8
My father was a chief of police and several other members of my family were in law enforcement. I had been raised around and amongst police officers since I was very young and the seeds had been planted in my heart to follow in my father’s footsteps. I dropped out of high school in my junior year because I was utterly failing in my academics and frankly had no interest. I was working at Marvin’s IGA grocery store for most of the time when I was 17. After I turned 18 however, I began to look for a more serious job. My dad had heard that the local jail was hiring and that they would hire at 18 years of age. He explained that the jail was typically the first step on the path on starting a career in law enforcement and that many cops he knew had spent a year or two working at the jail before becoming police officers. In February of 2008 I applied and in early March I began a pre-employment screening process. This consisted of a background check and a polygraph test. I had never been criminally in trouble so the background check went fine. I am sure some of them had heard about my UFO 911 call but it was never mentioned to me if they had. As I walked into the administration side of the Sheriff’s Office, I could feel my heart pounding against my chest. I knew what was waiting for me - a dreaded polygraph test. The room was small, and the only thing between me and the stern-looking lieutenant was a desk. But what caught my attention was the intimidating chair in front of the desk, with various sensors and attachments ready to measure my every physical response. The lieutenant welcomed me, but his tone was stern as he explained that this was a mandatory test for all recruits seeking employment at the facility. The silence in the room was deafening, and the air was thick with tension. I knew that this moment would determine my future, and I could not help but wonder, would I pass the test or fail? I had been previously told what sorts of questions would be on the test. Several of which I knew I would have to lie on. Especially if they asked if I had ever used illegal drugs as I had smoked marijuana with friends by this point. I had been quite a book reader at this point in my life all ready and at one point I had read about how to fool a polygraph test and it essentially went like this. To fool the polygraph sensors, you have to believe your own lies. The sensors are looking for physiological signs of deception, guilt, anticipation anything of that sort. So, you must not view your answers as lies. There has to be an agreement in my mind already that the entire thing is a farce. This man is not really trying to read me, this is simply a round about way of filling out a form in his possession and I am putting the answers as I want them to appear on the form. So, in my heart this is no a question of true or false. It is a question of what I want to appear on the paper. Therefor when a question is asked. I am not lying regardless of what I say, I am simply dictating to him what to put on the paper for me. Another tip I had read was to focus on a particular place on the wall in front of you and concentrate on it. I sat down and said I was ready. He then began by asking my name and what town we were in for a base reading. Next came the questions. Have you ever committed a serious crime that went undetected? A normal response to this question would be to begin to think back over one’s history and to question one’s self to make sure you weren’t missing anything. However, I stared at the wall and decided the answer to that question needed to be no, so I said no. The polygraph examination went on like this until the end. I can’t say I passed with flying colors however. Lieutenant Carter at the end looked at me and told me my lines were strange and did not indicate either deception or truthfulness but were what they would call inconclusive. Which is still passable for I passed my exam although I got a few odd looks from the lieutenant before I left. Not long after this I was being fitted for a jailer uniform and being distributed the equipment I would be using in my new role as Jail Deputy. I had a grand sense of embarking on a noble quest that would lead to untold adventures and a feeling of being a part of something much bigger than myself. Putting on the uniform for the first time went straight to my head as I could almost feel the new powers of authority emanating out from my being. The jail was connected to the main Sheriff's Office by a set of sturdy steel doors, which were operated remotely from a centralized command center. Once inside, there was no way out unless the command center authorized it. Although there were one or two physical keys, they were not kept on the premises and were reserved only for emergency situations where the controls at the command center were inaccessible. As I walked down the corridor towards the "Pod" where I was to begin my work, I couldn't help but notice the thick, grey concrete walls that lined the passageway. The Pod I would be working in for the first few months was known as D Pod. Essentially, a Pod was a hexagonal command center situated on a raised platform, encircled by remotely operated doors that led to various cell blocks. D-Pod comprised of 6 cell blocks and 2 recreational yards. When entering D-Pod, the two largest cell blocks, D-109 and D-130, were situated on the left-hand side. D-109 housed individuals jailed on misdemeanor charges, while D-130 was reserved for those facing felony charges who had not yet gone to trial. Essentially, it was the pre-trial felony block. On the right-hand side, there were four smaller blocks. One of these, D-150, hosted federal inmates who were predominantly Hispanic individuals with immigration-related holds. However, occasionally, unique inmates with charges related to federal crimes, such as crossing state borders to commit a crime, would also be held in D-150. The final two blocks were D-169 which hosted all inmates with sex related crimes and D-170 which held all inmates with Felony charges who had recently been convicted at trial but had not been sent to prison yet. Initially, my job at the jail was titled "Working D-Pod Direct," which involved spending time in the two largest cell blocks, D-109 and D-130, rather than simply standing in the command area of the Pod. As I began to acclimate myself to the environment and interact with the inmates, I noticed a variety of odors that were foreign to me. The persistent scent of sweat and human body odor was particularly revolting. I couldn't help but cringe at the thought of it. As I glanced around at the inmates, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disdain towards them. They had made choices that landed them in jail, and now they were paying the price. While I would be civil and courteous, I didn't feel as though I owed them anything. It was clear that breaking the rules on my watch was not an option. I quickly familiarized myself with the list of inmate infractions and their respective punishments. If an inmate broke certain rules, they could be subjected to lockdown. It became somewhat of a game to try and catch them in the act, and why not? They had committed a crime and their time in jail should not be pleasant or enjoyable. After all, what motivation would they have to not reoffend and come back? Thanks to constantly splitting wood, my arms had become rock-solid. In addition, I had been diligently honing my boxing skills and was eager for a potential altercation. The idea of an inmate attempting to intimidate me was thrilling, and I relished the possibility of a challenge. My father had earned a reputation as a formidable fighter, and now it was time for me to begin carving out my own legacy. As I searched through the bunks in D-109, my eyes caught sight of an inmate's thin, uncomfortable mat resting on top of his metal bunk. I couldn't help but wonder what could be hiding underneath it. My curiosity got the best of me, and I lifted the mat to find small, circular objects made of toothpaste. It was clear to me that the inmate had made these "mints" himself. I immediately located the inmate responsible and demanded an explanation for his actions. He fumbled through a feeble excuse, which did nothing to sway my judgement. As punishment, I stripped him of his privileges to have a mat and associate with other inmates. I then escorted him to E-Pod, on the opposite side of the jail, which served as the lockdown block. While I found the concept of lockdown amusing at the time, it was a truly awful experience for the inmates. They were stripped of all their belongings except for a Bible and confined to an empty cell for 23 hours a day, with only one hour of freedom to take a shower or read the newspaper in the main area of the cell block. I found myself getting a rush from catching inmates breaking the rules. It became a daily goal of mine to ensure that at least one person was placed in lockdown. At the time I thought that the rules were very simple for people who clearly cared little about society, simple dos and don’ts. There were big ones such as “Don’t assault any jail staff”, “No Fighting.”, “Attempts to escape.”, “No sexual activity.” Etc. Then there were the pettier issues, these were the ones I spent my time on. “Leaning on the wall.”, “Storing food after meals have been picked up.”, “Being unsanitary, failing to keep cell clean.”, “Possessing anything not authorized or issued directly to the inmate through jail staff.” The latter rule was very open to interpretation, and was used if inmates had extra of anything. Many an inmate met lockdown due to having an extra roll of toilet paper in those days. A typical portion of my day might go like this. I stride purposefully down the dimly-lit prison block, my boots echoing off the concrete walls. My chest swells with a sense of authority as I approach the inmate's cell. Without a word, I barge in, my hand firmly gripping my baton. "Face the wall!" I bark, my voice carrying the weight of my position. The inmate jumps, fear etched on his face as he turns to comply with my order. I begin to inspect his cell, my eyes scanning every inch for any signs of contraband. My nose wrinkles at the faint smell of sweat and mold, but I push on, determined to maintain control. And then, there it is. An extra roll of toilet paper, sitting innocuously on the shelf. I whirl around to face the inmate, my lip curling in disdain. "What is this?" I demand, my tone dripping with arrogance. The inmate stammers, fear and distress etched on his face. "I-I didn't know," he stutters. "I didn't know we couldn't have more than one roll." I snort in disbelief. "You expect me to believe that? You should have read the handbook more closely." I reach out and snatch the booklet from his hands, flipping through the pages with a sneer. "And here it is," I say triumphantly, jabbing my finger at the relevant section. "One roll per inmate. Did you even bother to read this?" I pull the inmate out of his cell, dragging him along behind me as I stride purposefully down the hallway. "Lockdown for five days," I snap, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Maybe you'll learn to follow the rules next time." I stride out of the prison gates, my uniform crisp and my badge shining in the sun. It's been a hard day, but I've managed to keep the inmates in line, as I always do. The weight of the day's events still heavy on my mind, I pull out a pack of Marlboro reds and light one up. The smoke fills my lungs and I let out a long exhale, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. Driving down the winding country roads, the sun beating down on my face, I can't help but feel a sense of peace. The green pastures and fields stretch out for miles on either side of the road, and I feel like I'm the only one in the world. When I finally get home, I grab a cold beer from the fridge and climb into the driver's seat of my truck. The sounds of the woods and insects fill the air as I crack open the can and start to read a book. The sun slowly begins to set, casting a warm orange glow over the trees. As the night deepens, I feel a restlessness stirring within me. I decide to take my truck out for a spin, driving through the small town I grew up in. The beer has been flowing freely for hours, but it doesn't even occur to me that I might be breaking the law. I revel in the feeling of being an adult, of having power and control over others. It doesn't matter that I've spent the day punishing inmates for petty offenses, because in this moment, I am invincible. The irony of my situation is lost on me, and I continue to drive around, the night stretching out before me like an open road. After I get home and as the night wears on, I continue to drink, the bottles piling up around me. The sounds of the woods outside provide a backdrop to my drunken stupor, and I stumble out into the darkness. The insects hum around me, and the night birds call out in the distance. I feel my stomach churning, and I lurch forward, retching onto the ground. The smell of beer and bile fills my nostrils, and I heave until there's nothing left. As I stumble into the woods, their darkness and isolation seem to envelop me completely. The only witnesses to my weakness are the insects and birds, their chirping and buzzing forming a constant, mocking chorus. No god, no divine presence to judge my actions or offer me solace. I know that I can’t linger here for long. I have to be at work again at 6 in the morning, ready to continue my reign of power.

GoFundMe: https://www.gofundme.com/f/trauma-relief-for-abduction-victim
Hi everyone. I have.. a big ask here. On the night of May 10th my brother’s good friend came home from work to find a man named Don Jones burglarizing her home. She was viciously assaulted in her home. Her ordeal did not end there when her abductorapist took her by gunpoint to her own vehicle and abducted her, where her assault continued in the car. She was forced to jump from the moving vehicle to save her own life and sustained serious injuries. Had she not, things would’ve likely been far worse. A GoFundMe has been started for her to cover costs of medical expenses, therapy, and a new vehicle which Don Jones crashed and destroyed. She lost her car and everything in it, her phone, and other personal items. Based on that description of the man, as well as information given by other residents in the area, the suspect was identified as 35-year-old Don Jones.
Jones had taken her vehicle, and warrants were obtained for his arrest, according to Sheriff Kemp (Carrol County Sheriff’s Office). Authorities began a manhunt for Don Jones. Deputies found Jones near the Bear Trail and Timber Road intersection and then took him into custody . Jones is now being held at the New River Valley Regional Jail without bond on the following charges: Grand larceny, Brandishing a firearm, Burglary of a dwelling at night with intent to commit a felony or larceny with a deadly weapon Simple assault of law enforcement/fire/medical personnel, Possession of weapons by a convicted felon, Assault, firearm use in the commission of a felony, Kidnapping/abduction, Sexual assault, intercourse with a victim by force, threat, or intimidation.
This has deeply effected my brother. And I cannot fathom what she is going through right now. I have to share this and ask any of you if you could possibly also share this. And if you’re able, please donate. Thank you.
GoFundMe: https://www.gofundme.com/f/trauma-relief-for-abduction-victim
News articles:
https://www.wsls.com/news/local/2023/05/11/carroll-county-man-charged-after-abduction-sexual-assault/
https://www.wdbj7.com/2023/05/11/deputies-searching-suspect-carroll-county/
https://wset.com/news/local/carroll-co-deputies-actively-searching-for-suspect-in-cana-area-may-2023

Booty Busta Bubba was a notorious prison rapist who was feared by all the inmates. He was known for widening people's anuses with his huge member and making them scream in agony.
He had been in and out of prisons since he was a young teenager, and had perfected the art of being a ruthless ass-widerer by the time he was an adult.
Every day, he would go around the prison, looking for people to victimize. He would find someone in a vulnerable position, such as sleeping, or showering, and then he would pounce. He would take off his pants and then thrust his huge penis into the victim's anus.
The victims would scream in pain as he widened their anus with his huge penis. He would then laugh and walk away, leaving them in tears and shock.
The other inmates in the prison were petrified of Booty Busta Bubba. They would do whatever they could to avoid him and his wrath.
However, one day, the prison guards got wind of what Booty Busta Bubba was up to. They set up a sting operation and were able to catch him in the act. He was arrested and sent to the county jail, where he finally faced justice for his crimes.
Booty Busta Bubba was sentenced to 10 years in prison for his heinous crimes. He was never able to repeat his actions again, and the other inmates were relieved that justice had been served

Most recent update: Forgive the extensive 'context':
And spoiler alert - this won't be satisfying in any medical or dx sense..
Context: big teaching hospital, and my coworkers & I are non-clinical safety attndnts (but office on-site) who were brought on at covid onset and hosp opted to keep the contract.
Because of the 3rd party thing & non-clinical, we're kind of the black sheep/RH stepchild and altho some of my coworkers earn the rep of 'what are they getting paid for??') many of us have a passion for mental health & are degreed people with prof backgrounds. Several have shared experiences and are willing to do whatever the nurse is willing to let us.
My jam lies in creating rapport w/struggler & making sure they know that MH crises/addiction is so much more common than they think & how closely tied it us w/trauma..& they often open up about that too and sometimes never have. Who wouldn't wanna numb that shit, you know? My pharmacology is decent and I suggest they ask future psyche provider about xyz. (Our psyche staff is so thin they're almost invisible.)
So the third-party thing makes advocating a delicate dance, as there's an unspoken 'who are you to be talking about xyz?' message - and it's not always unspoken. Oh, and we're not included in the report process, altho I make my own report happen 1:1 w/nurse.
Much later that same night that I posted, it dawned on me that the inmate hadn't even been listed as an SI pt/room but just 'safety' - and we rec'v almost no history on them. I added the 'oh! and he's not even SI!!' to my string of texts to my boss that night.
I get to work yesterday (following day) and inmate has been pulled from our list. :) That's not the first time that speaking up or more-than-normal # of questions about a pt has ended with next day's load doesn't include that pt..and it's reverted back to hosp staff tech.
My(new) pt yesterday was an all-consuming tbi in icu & I had no chance to check on him..& I'm off this wkend.
I did, on my own at home, discover his charges and sentencing info, and it ain't pretty at all and makes me understand the weird vibe I was getting from pt's 2nd shift guards and a nurse. One of the officers (we're all in tiny room together) kept kinda rolling his eyes during mine & pt's convo about his release date & seeking MH help & if he had a 'plan' for post-release life..
The behavioacts he's serving time for are abhorant but it changes nothing about how I'd interact with him. If the perps of past abhorant behavior aren't the ones who need to see what healthy humans act like..who does?? I haven't relayed any of the charges info to anyone else, as I don't see the point, even if we still had his room.
I'm hoping that as one commenting nurse suggested, pt's previous colostomy surgery(s)? may change the nature of what would've been a typical pt's belly. I have no idea. But I really, really appreciate your feedback and support. ♥️
‐----‐------‐
For 24 hours now..😳?
And nothing covering it but a hand towel. I think it's the towel that's bothering me most..
I'm not clinical - he has stab wound in low abdomen with about 2" of intestine protruding. I'm sure he's at the bottom of surg sched 24, and on floor to wait.
Npo for over 24 hrs now.
He's good natured but getting a little testy..
Update: He's scheduled for surgery in the am.
Happens to have a colostomy bag and has for several years. And that's a different part of his belly.
I don't know what he used to make the current opening - the guard who came from his facility said he 'stabbed' himself, so whether we wanna call it a knife or the 'shiv' - I guess that's up for debate.
He's been given colace for surg prep, and that's quite an affair...
I had my boss request someone from wound care to come in, and that has yet to happen..and they might not w/surg on the books.
I'm too tired to explain the other steps I've taken and how most of them were met with these big-eyed expressions and a look of 'please don't ask me this..' - but I'm not done..just tired..
Update #2 - still awake as I can't sleep.
Nurse's reply (when I asked why he hadn't yet had surgery) was - in a tone like she was giving me some really quality intel - "You know it was self-inflicted, right?"
Yup..knew it already and I don't care. She said that 'affects their treatment protocols'.
Now that I've had some time to process...I'm saying hell no. We treat self-inflicted trauma all the time. I'm with suicide survivors a LOT. Gunshots to head, stepping in front of every kind of moving object you can imagine, bridge jumps....we do it all the time. It was the prison factor and 2 armed guards.
My convo with him (and with most of my pts) was around his mental health, asking when his release date was, if he had kind of a mental 'plan' for outside life. He said he's been in for 15 yrs, which gave me a weird aha as to why I got the vibe that he wasn't just a county jail holdover. So I still don't have any awesome answers..and I hate that I've drug you all thru this shit show. But I appreciate your feedback..and affirmation that it isn't right.

Housekeeping:

• HOW TO SUPPORT: If you are in the position to support my work, I have a patreon, venmo, and a paypal set up. Just three dollars a month makes a huge difference! No pressure though, I will keep posting these pieces publicly no matter what - paywalls suck.
  
• NOTIFICATIONS: You can signup to receive a monthly email with links to my posts.
  

Florida

A 54-year-old Black man died after Florida jail officials refused to give him medication that kept his body from rejecting his heart transplant.
Dexter Barry was arrested for misdemeanor assault in November 2022 after allegedly threatening to beat up a neighbor during an argument over wifi access. No actual physical fight occurred. According to body camera footage reviewed by The Tributary, Barry advised an officer at least seven times that he needed his medication to survive. He was booked into Duval County jail, run by the Jacksonville Sheriff’s office.
The next day, Barry reiterated to a judge that he desperately needed his medication:

“I am on medication,” Barry told the judge. “I just had a heart transplant, and I haven’t taken my medicine all day since I have been locked up, and I take rejection medicines for my heart so my heart won’t reject it, and I’m almost two years out.”

Barry also told jail officials while in police custody; they made note of it, but never gave him the drugs.

The medical records, initially obtained by Jacksonville civil rights attorney Andrew Bonderud, show that Barry also told the jail’s healthcare providers about his medications. Barry only received his blood pressure medicine and a drug for cholesterol and his prostate, according to the medicine log.
Bonderud said he believes the jail not giving Barry his anti-rejection medicine “was entirely driven by profit and a profit motive.” Bonderud, who is representing Barry’s family, explained, “Generic cholesterol medication probably isn’t that expensive. But the heart transplant medicine is very expensive.”

Barry died at home three days after being released, having missed at least five doses of the anti-rejection medication.

Dr. Maya Guglin, an Indiana cardiologist on the board at the American College of Cardiology, said organ transplant recipients have to take anti-rejection medications because their bodies view the new organ as an invasion that must be fought off.
“If you just drop those medications, everyone is eventually going to reject that organ,” she said.
Even if medication is restarted, it will be too late, Guglin said.

South Carolina

A South Carolina man is suing the York County Sheriff’s Office after four deputies shot him nine times during a mental health emergency.
Trevor Mullinax was in his pickup truck on May 7, 2021, with a shotgun. His mother, Tammy Beason, was beside the truck talking to him. A family member called 911 to request a wellness check, reporting that Mullinax was suicidal.
Body camera footage shows the moment that deputies arrived on the scene, opening fire within seconds of leaving their vehicles.

“Prior to arriving at the Plaintiffs’ location, Sheriff’s deputies failed to plan, choosing instead to ride in like cowboys from a John Wayne movie, defaulting to using deadly force, immediately, without attempting to deescalate the situation, in complete disregard for State law/regulation, Sheriff’s policies, and/or County ordinances,” the lawsuit states.
According to court documents, the deputies fired almost 50 rounds at Mullinax, striking him approximately nine times, including in the head. The plaintiffs’ attorneys allege this happened despite Beason being in the line of fire and Mullinax having both his arms raised.

York County Sheriff Kevin Tolson has defended the deputies’ actions, claiming that Mullinax picked up the shotgun in his truck and the officers feared for their lives. Three of the deputies who shot Mullinax are still on duty.

“I tell all of my deputies that their goal is to serve the citizens of York County and then to go home safely to their families. Mr. Mullinax chose to put these men in danger by pulling a shotgun. These deputies responded appropriately to the threat as they were trained to do. Had Mr. Mullinax made different choices that day, deputies would not have been required to use force,” said Sheriff Kevin Tolson. “Our ultimate goal is to ensure the safety of the public and our deputies. Regardless of the outcome of this lawsuit, we want to reassure our residents that we will continue to provide high quality and professional law enforcement service.”

Mullinax survived numerous gunshot wounds, including three to his head. After shooting him, the department charged Mullinax with allegedly pointing a gun at them.

Plaintiff Mullinax, who somehow miraculously survived the horrific shooting, has maintained his innocence of the criminal charges brought by Sheriff’s deputies. Plaintiff Mullinax denies pointing, brandishing, or presenting a firearm in any threating manner at Sheriff’s deputies, and Plaintiff Beason, who was present and standing directly beside the vehicle in plain view of Plaintiff Mullinax, maintains Plaintiff Mullinax did not point, brandish, or present a firearm in any threating manner at Sheriff’s deputies.

Louisiana

The U.S. Justice Department filed a court statement accusing Louisiana officers of violating the civil rights of an autistic boy when deputies pinned him to the ground until he died.
Eric Parsa (referred to as E.P. in court documents), a “severely autistic” 16-year-old, was at a Louisiana laser tag event with his parents on January 19, 2020. As the family was leaving the venue, Parsa “began to experience a sudden sensory outburst” in the parking lot.

E.P. began to slap himself in the head, a behavior which is a common physical trait for many persons on the Severe Autistic Spectrum Disorder and is a readily observable manifestation of the person’s disability and anxiety.
Along with other repetitive motions, this repetitive head slapping is sometimes referred to as type of “stimming” and can be an attempt by the person with autism to calm themselves when confronted with frustration, anxiety and/or inability to communicate. It can also be used by the individual as a self-calming or self-soothing technique to try to avert or mitigate the severity of an outburst or as self-injurious behavior. It is a visible sign that the person may be experiencing or is about to experience an outburst.

During this outburst, Parsa began physically struggling with his dad. The manager of the laser tag venue called the police to report there was “a man with his autistic child…in a confrontation” in the parking lot.
Parsa then slapped the first officer to arrive on scene; he was taken to the ground and handcuffed. Deputies kept Parsa in a prone position on the ground, shackled, using their own body weight as a restraint.

The physical restraint of E.P. in JPSO custody began with a 6’3”, very large, over 300-pound deputy taking E.P. to the ground, striking him and then sitting on E.P.’s back, holding him face down, for approximately seven minutes. Eventually there were a total of seven JPSO deputies involved, sitting on, handcuffing, shackling, holding down, or standing by E.P. as he was restrained and held face down on his stomach against the hard surface of the parking lot. The final application of excessive force against E.P. involved a deputy using his forearm to place a choke/neck hold around E.P.’s head, shoulder and neck, as he lay in a prone position, with a deputy on his back, and other deputies holding down his arms and legs, while he was handcuffed and in leg shackles.

Jefferson Parish Sheriff’s deputies sat on Parsa for more than nine minutes, only releasing him after “his body had gone limp and he had urinated on himself.”

9 minutes and 6 seconds. This is how long this extremely dangerous, lifethreatening and forceful prone restraint, involving the use of the deputies’ body weight and holds, mechanical restraints, choke/neck hold, following a period of physical exertion, was applied to an unarmed, obese 16-year-old severely autistic child in the midst of a sensory outburst or meltdown.
During that 9 minutes and 6 seconds, there were several clear and distinct opportunities, when E.P. was secured, was calm, was not actively resisting, when the JPSO deputies failed to de-escalate, failed to appropriately reduce the use of force against E.P., and failed to intervene to prevent the use of excessive force by other deputies.
Once E.P. was handcuffed, they did not roll him onto his side. They did not sit him up or stand him up. They did not secure him in a vehicle. They did not continuously monitor him. Instead, they continued to hold him face down, on his belly, while applying unreasonable and excessive force, resulting in his death. It wasn’t until his body had gone limp and he had urinated on himself that the deputies rolled him into “recovery position.” By then it was too late

Parsa was taken to a hospital and pronounced dead. His parents filed a lawsuit against the Sheriff’s office, arguing that the deputies violated Parsa’s First, Fourth, Ninth, and Fourteenth Amendment rights, as well as the Americans with Disabilities Act.
Last week, the DOJ filed a statement of interest agreeing with Parsa’s parents:

Here, the record is replete with facts showing that several Defendants knew about E.P.'s disability before or on arrival to the scene and that others learned of his disability during the encounter…Plaintiffs have also put forth evidence that the deputies, who knew they were responding to a call for assistance with a child experiencing a behavioral health crisis, used force inappropriately to respond to a child’s known disability-related behavior…
Critically, nothing in the briefing suggests that E.P. had a weapon, that officers ever reasonably suspected he had a weapon, or that there was a threat to human life… because abundant facts show that Defendants were on notice of E.P.’s disability, a reasonable jury could conclude that Defendants should have reasonably modified their procedures in restraining E.P.

Others

An 11-year-old Mississippi boy was shot in the chest by a police officer after he called 911 for help for a domestic disturbance.
The family of a Georgia woman who died after she fell out of a moving police car is suing the department.
Three former Mississippi police officers were indicted last week for repeatedly using stun guns on a 41-year-old man, causing his death.
An independent autopsy released by family last week ruled that a schizophrenic man “eaten alive” by bed bugs in an Atlanta jail cell was homicide by neglect.
The FBI is investigating the fatal shooting of a tribal member in Arizona by U.S. Border Patrol after the man called agents for assistance.

Looking for advice for my wife. I have no experience near the medical field so I’m sorry if my lingo is off haha.
My wife is looking for a new job. She just had a phone interview for an RN position at a corrections facility and they basically offered her the job. It’s a county jail in upstate NY so there shouldn’t be any high profile prisoners or anything like that. We’re considering it but we’re worried about the safety aspect of it.
The interviewer (RN manager) said there would always be a guard with her, she’d never be only 1 on 1 and the job is mostly passing meds, assessments and sick calls. The job requirements and protection on the job aren’t really that much of a concern to us unless the manager is hiding what it’s really like there. Is that likely?
We’re both a little concerned about when the inmates get out of prison. What if they recognize her and are violent/creepy when in public? What if they stalk her? We know not everyone that goes to jail is like that but there’s always a few bad eggs no matter where you go. We also have a little one so that makes us both a little more anxious, protecting them is our biggest concern.
Are there any corrections nurses out there who’ve experienced something like this? How did you deal with it? Did it happen often? Did you also have these concerns?
Any and all advice is much appreciated!

Gangs run that jail and it's by far the worst in the state. All the blame to Sheriff Lott for allowing the jail to decline like this. (entire article at link)
https://www.wltx.com/article/news/crime/another-inmate-stabbed-at-alvin-s-glenn-detention-center-richland-county-jail-columbia-southcarolina/101-aa4f4702-f042-4f09-9c64-9fd447feb0f1
COLUMBIA, S.C. — The Richland County Sheriff's Department is investigating yet another stabbing incident at Alvin S. Glenn Detention Center.
Deputies were called to the county jail off Bluff Road in Columbia around 9:15 p.m. Tuesday, May 30. Upon arrival, the male victim had already been transported to a local hospital with multiple stab wounds to his upper and lower body.
This is just the latest incident where an inmate was injured at Alvin S. Glenn.

• On May 11, three inmates were stabbed in two separate instances
• On May 25, a 29-year-old make received cuts and lacerations to his body during a fight in one of the cells
• On May 26, a 25-year-old male was hospitalized after a fight with another inmate during recreation time
• On May 27, a 35-year-old man was hospitalized after a fight in the medical ward