A story of triumph in business and in life.

Oh boy here we go again everybody.

Hello, you may know me as Bcal but in jail I went by the name Triple P (You’ll know why eventually). This wasn’t no junior probation shit neither, this was a nickel at Sing Sing in ’97. Up the river and down to hell is what we used to call this epic dungeon built to deter all who dare break a federal law. I foolishly hit two different licks in the spring of ’96 and got caught that night in a motel 8 with two gay hookers and some horse tranquilizer. I thought that was going to be the worst night of my life. Brothers, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Nothing in life prepared me for prison. Not even jail (Don’t tee off on your neighbors dog’s face unless you want two weeks in Yaphank). The one thing I needed most, confidence, was nowhere to be found. Nor was my young soft body prepared for the old hardened gay gangsters that would “I’ve got a proposition for you” into a small room with no exit. It was never a legitimate business venture :/ it was always long black penis. Where the bitches at I would think to myself. SHIT! I was the bitch. It didn’t hit me until Lorenzo and Chump literally hit me until my mouth couldn’t stay closed. They used to call me “24 hour service” for the 3 weeks while I was recovering. When I would lay on my back my mouth looked like a swimming pool filled with white-out. Those were the worst days of my life.

Through great personal pain comes incredible glamorous fame. That’s the motto I tatted above my thigh with a pen and a toothbrush needle. It wasn’t until I found myself choking on the warden’s piece that all my problems seemed to disappear. I realized right then and there with the wardens balls literally in my hands, I could improve my situation. It was time to UNIONIZE. Yes yes yesssss it was time to get some motherfucking work place safety standards in this bitch. It only took a little nibble on the gonad to get the warden to agree. I took my first step to becoming a legitimate prison whore and boy was it empowering. No more are the days of 3 dicks at once. Ceased were the hours of jungle gym gambling (it wasn’t for money). I was to be in control. But here comes this fucking cliche, I needed power in numbers. This might have been the best day of my life.

Unions have always had good and bad stigmas associated with them, their benefits, and setbacks. But in prison the game is changed. With the right connections, a few dips into a past life of extortion and interrogation, I was up and running in 2 fortnights. That’s 28 days you idiot. At first, admission was cheap, just a handy for me. Then the warden started dipping in my pockets so each member paid 3 blowjobs and 2 salad tosses a month to me and him. By the time I reached 100 unionized workers we were in the clear. Measuring 7% of the prison population and hitting every demographic there was, we The Populous Prison Pussies were none to be trifled with. Plus I still had old Herb’s (warden) nuts on my mantle. We had numbers. We had safety. We had standards of practice. It was INCREDIBLE. Every BJ was perfect, because the men were happy to give them. Every butthole was greased because we could afford the lube now. Bill Marriott was right, a happy employee makes a happy customer. And I owned 99 very happy assholes those first few weeks. Add a carton of lucky’s per month as a bonus to each member and my numbers started exploding. 2 years in we had 1,500 members in 10 prisons spanning 4 States in the North East. Rhode Island doesn’t play that gay shit though so we lost a great expansion opportunity there. That was a very tough day in my life, dumb ass Rhode Island.

5th year came, senior year, and all was merry. The Populous Prison Pussies expanded nation wide with over 10,000 dues paying members (we started accepting cash dues for out of state members). I was fucking Scarface but my pile of coke was dwarfed by my piles of light skin black ass. The Wire even hit me up to see if I would play the roll of Proposition Joe. I told them I wasn’t skinny enough. Back to the point. With just a little determination and weeks of unsolicited oral sex, your dreams can come true. That’s literally all it takes, especially if you’re a dumb woman. I’m drifting off topic now and becoming misogynistic… shit let me end this before my life ends.

I successfully unionized the prison whore system in only a couple years. After I was released I swear on God I almost murdered someone to get back to the job I loved so much. In the end I didn’t. I decided to leave in silence and the ensuing power struggle saw many lives taken. But that’s fucking prison.

I’m not gay. Pce


About Bcal

They haven't made me leave yet...

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