#new fish

[prisonprocess]

The Adventure Begins

1.

Brendan M. says:

These days, everything happens online.  After I sold my company and took the profit, I lived at the lake house and basically didn’t need to go anyplace or see anybody.  After 12 years of corporate meetings, that was fine with me.  And there were plenty of online buddies to chat with.

My favorite was Blake.  He was into all the hot prison photos, sites, and stories.  We’d spend hours late at night, talking about how great it would be to “do prison,” as he put it, actually instead of virtually.  “No more role play.  Just real steel—the real deal.”  Nothing but uniforms, restraints, cellblocks, and being transported in big ugly buses (“diesel therapy”).  “Nothin but a number, Jack!  And you know what?  There’s an outfit that can put you there.  Just saw it online.”

That’s when he told me about Your Prison Profile.  A hot idea, of course—expensive, but they’d find a place for you in prison, and nobody would know how it happened.  When I contacted them, they put me through to Cody, a chill young guy who made everything easy.  I didn’t mind that he kept telling me to think about this or that, and we could talk about it tomorrow.  I really got off on thinking about my “requirements”: “which level of security is necessary for you,” “are you looking for hard labor,” “single cell, double cell, pod, or dorm,” and so on.  We did it all by online video, and I liked the look of Cody sitting at his desk and talking in a calm, level voice about what I wanted to “get out of” my “prison adventure.”  Blake and I spent every night imagining our way through the various options.  Next day I’d talk it over with Cody and click on the one I wanted.

Then in a couple of weeks Cody came online and told me, “Hey, based on the data you’re giving me, I found you a prison.  It’s the same security you wanted, same labor options, the whole nine yards.”  I was excited; I wanted to hit Blake up right away and tell him.  The problem was—this looked like my last visit with Cody.  He needed to know if I’d click on the box that said, yeah, I accept the offer.  Which I’d never intended to do.  I’d just wanted the fantasy.

I made up an excuse to go offline, and I got back to Blake.  “What do you mean?” he said.  “You don’t want to go through with it?”

I was ashamed to admit that I didn’t.  But I was so excited, I couldn’t let it go.  “Maybe for six months,” I said.

“Don’t be a wimp!” he replied.  “Besides, you can’t go to a real prison for six months.  They won’t let you in.  It has to be for at least a year.  You know that.  And what else are you doing that’s so important?”

“All right,” I said.  “I’ll tell him a year.”  By that time, I barely knew what I was saying, I was so turned on.

But when I got back to Cody, he said, “I’m sorry.  This is a serious facility.  They don’t do one-year sentences.  Try three.”

“Three?” I answered, like a dumb ass.

“Three years.  Or you can sign up for five or ten or fifteen or twenty.  But listen, if you’re having trouble making up your mind, you can do two to life.  That’s for first offenders who, like, did something pretty bad, but they’re still first offenders.  So if you’ve got a good record in the facility, they’ll let you out in two.  Otherwise, they can keep you.  You understand how that goes?”

“Right.  I understand.  I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks.  But I gotta tell you, this offer won’t last long.”

“What do you mean?” Blake said.  “You’re not gonna turn that down, are you?  Two years from now, you’ll still be sittin on your deck, growin your fat ass, wishin you’d had enough stones to click that box.”

I spent a worried, sleepless, and very excited night, and the next day I got with Cody online and clicked the box that said Two Years to Life. 

After that it was easy.  I sent a check for 50K, and 5K more as a tip for Cody.  I made arrangements with my lawyer.  I leased my house.  I put my stuff in storage.  I waited for my order to report to prison.  When I got it, there were two weeks to go.  I spent them chatting with Blake and alternating between excitement and fear.  But I couldn’t deny what he said: “In fourteen days you’ll be livin the dream.”  Then it was ten, then five, then one, and I went online to say so long for the next two years.  For some reason, Blake wasn’t on.

Next morning I left the hotel where I’d been staying and took a taxi the 50 miles to the Regional Headquarters of the Department of Corrections, where I was supposed to turn myself in.  I don’t know what I was expecting, but all I saw was a dumpy little building with a walk-up window and a sign saying REPORT FOR IMPRISONMENT.  OK, that was straightforward.  I wished I’d seen that sign years before.  A twenty-year-old with ear rings was sitting on the other side of the glass.  “Driver’s license-Order to Report-cellphone.”  I’d never thought about that, but yes, I’d lose my phone.  I slid everything through the little slot in the window.  The young man tossed my phone to one side of the counter, where I could see it land on a pile of other cell phones.  Then he compared my license with my Order, pushed the Order back through the slot, and said, “Give this to the officer at the gate.  Next!”  I turned and saw that I was part of a line of other men, there to REPORT FOR IMPRISONMENT.

The officer at the gate, a fifty-something with a big gut, took my Order and beckoned me through.  “Face to the wall,” he said.  There was a brick wall on the left, and I put my face to it.  “Hands on your head.”  I put my hands on my head.  Then I heard the double click of the shackles being attached to my legs.  This was the moment I’d been waiting for, and I almost lost it right there.  Even more when he turned me around and cuffed my hands together.

“Transport cage over there.  Get in and line up.”  A younger officer who might have been hot but wasn’t opened the second steel gate and let me in silently.  It was a cage, all right—concrete floor, and steel fencing all around.  It looked like they’d spent twenty bucks on it.  There were about 40 guys in the cage, lined up in their go-to-prison clothes, which must have cost then about ten bucks.  So these were my fellow convicts . . . .

Note: All stories by prisonprocess are purely fictional and have no relation to real persons or institutions.

[seeshelter]

Candy enjoying the new 3 tunnel configuration!

[cantakelife]

You don't know me, but I got a fish.

I have a few ideas on names, so I'm leaving it up to Tumblr

[omatoxin]

strange happenings -

[feelingautistic]

Exciting news for the cute shark lovers of the world! We finally have a recorded sighting of a baby great white shark, likely only a few hours old.

The question of where great white sharks give birth still remains a mystery to this day but this footage may suggest the coasts of California, where the footage was taken, are a site where these sharks give birth.

[retrogamingblog2]

[adehl]

fish being fed peas in the giant ocean tank at new england aquarium in boston, ma

[lowpolyanimals]

Fish from Monument Valley

[tiktoks-repost]

snolonely on instagram

[prisonprocess]

The Adventure Begins

7.

Brendan M. continues:

After my hair was removed, the rest of it happened—take off your clothes, show your pits, pull your cheeks, into the showers, grab a jumpsuit, stand for your mugs, this way to the cells. 

When they locked me in my cage I just sat on my bunk, stunned.  Then I did what you do when there’s nothing else to do—you stand at the bars and talk to the other specimens in the zoo.  Everybody was talking about the jolt he got.  “Ten years.”  “Five years.”  “Eight years.”  I said, “Two years to life,” and they all started laughing.  “Other words,” one of them said, “you got yourself LIFE!”  “Two to life!” another one said.  “That how they get the rich boys inta tha joint.  They think they gittin OUT on that two!”  “Shoulda tole you, two TIMES life!  They be lettin you out when they wanta let you out—which is never, bruv!”

It was a good thing I was in a cage, and they couldn’t see me huddled in the corner, crying.

Note: All stories by prisonprocess are purely fictional and have no relation to real persons or institutions.

[seeshelter]

The time has finally come for the SeeShelter Mini/Nano Hospital Tunnel to come to fruition!

They are the same width and height as the SeeShelter betta tunnel, but only 3.5" long.

The SeeShelter Mini/Nano Hospital Tunnel is perfect for a fish in recovery. Place it near the top for a betta with swim bladder disease so he can relax and reach the air for breath with ease.

The SeeShelter Mini/Nano Hospital Tunnel is also great for a quarantine aquarium for new fish friends!

An empty tank can be stressful for a fish that's in a new home. The Mini/Nano tunnel can provide shelter, exercise, and relaxation so your friend adjusts with ease.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1293614399/seeshelter-mininano-hospital-tunnel-fish

[jay-birds-fly]

A candid image of me cleverly tricking my unsuspecting friends into sharing an interest with me so I have someone to infodump to

[omatoxin]

coelacanth my truest friend <3

[queenoftheantz]

!!WIZARDS!!

I drew these last year and made them stickers that I sell at cons, but I forgot to post them online! (If you happen to go to Dokomi this year I'll have these with me there) (the two cats at the top are based on my friends' cats, who are perfect and special)

[ejsuperstar]

Imagine you live in pelican town. The new farmer has been here a couple weeks now and seems to be settling in, except... He's picking the weirdest friend choices. Like sure it's not weird to befriend the local fisherman, especially when he has an interest in fishing himself, but you're pretty sure you've seen him rooting through the Saloon's garbage with the local homeless man. As well, he keeps harassing the poor guy who works at Joja even though you KNOW he doesn't want to be friends with him.

And since you're on the topic of weirdness, isn't it odd he seemingly runs everywhere at a full sprint? Or just... Eats entire raw fish while fishing for "energy reasons"...

...

Despite all that, it's too early to call him off putting or anything... He has been engaging in town traditions, and he's started helping out with the old community centre. He's probably like the rest of you. Someone with a few quirks, that will fit in with the valley great!

Surely he can't get any weirder... Right?

[retrogamingblog2]