"Damn Eye-Twitch Has Reappeared" or "My Time In Juevy"

Recently I have been working ungodly hours. No, really. We're talking 20 hour days at work for 5 days straight taking only 4 hours a night to myself to crash underneath my desk on-top of two sleeping bags and using my leather jacket as a blanket kind of rough.... for 5 weeks straight. Yeah, see?

I'm proud to think that there are few people on this earth that could undertake such a fool-hearty endeavor, at least for the five weeks straight that I have done it. Unfortunately, this is beginning to take a hell of a tole on me. In an attempt to balance these 4 hour nights and to save as much money as possible during this process, I have been fueling my body on leftover bagels, powdered soup, bathing in the company bathroom with hand-soap, and consuming around 60 OZs of coffee per day... but the side-effects of this life are beginning to shine through.... enter the eye twitch.

Unfortunately this isn't the first time that my eye has been subjected to this phenomenon, and this feeling takes me directly back to a story that I would like to subject you to.... and boy oh boy is this a long story.

The last time I felt my eye doing this I was 16 years old at Madison High School in Middletown Ohio, as I was being violently pushed against a wall and handcuffed by an over-zealous pig of a cop (who I will address in here as deputy Dick-Weed) and aggressively escorted into his patrol car. What were the charges you ask? Hacking. Hacking the school mainframe, changing grades, changing roster-sheets, and eventually deleting a teachers computer logs.

Let me first begin this section by saying, yeah, I did it. I hacked my asshole teachers computer, and after getting bored changing my grades and continually reversing his screen, talking to him, and restarting his computer from the next room (which was HILARIOUS to listen to), I ended up going a step further. See, I was in a class in which the idea was to teach you an instrument you had not yet learned, a class of which I was SUPER excited to attend, but alas, the cocksucker did not teach the entire 4 people that took the class anything, he instead turned us into his servants. We carried stuff from his car, we took stock of the inventory of instruments, we sold candy in his class to younger students (which was supposed to be going toward the band, and it was NOT) in short, he was using us, using the system, and not performing the one task he was getting paid to do.

This is all dealable until you factor in that the guy was an ENORMOUS dick to us. On good days he was short and shitty, on bad days he would spit-fire and slam doors. Now, I had an eye and an ear on the schools mainframe for a while, but after one particular day of the guy going off on me about how I didn't assemble a fucking gong stand right, I logged into his computer as he was using it, clicked on the C drive, and drug it into the trashcan and clicked "delete". You know why? Fuck him, that's why.

To give you a bit of backstory on the situation, I'm not by nature a hacker. A few friends of mine who fancied themselves as "hackers" discovered a back-door trojan program entitled Sub-7. Using this program, it allowed you complete and total control of another computer as long as you had installed the "back door" which was CAKE to do. There was a group of 6 kids (not including myself) who were doing this at the time, I was the LEAST offensive user of this program. I used this program aggressively just once to exact revenge on one fucker who was a cock-sucker.

Eventually, as I eventually came to learn as a result of this story, you should never trust anyone... ever. One of the kids in this group was trusted by teachers and was asked to consult about the possibility of this being a hack (of which there was NO evidence). Instead of being smart and dismissing such a notion, he then agreed with them and began to ask ALOT of questions to this group... of which I had trusted two of them with my story. Unfortunately those two told the group of 6, and every single one of them rolled on me immediately and without hesitation. For a group of "hackers", they were VERY frightened of authority... pussies.

So the whole damn thing got investigated and the full and frightening extent of the records that the group had altered and had access to was revealed by proper cops, and due to the fact that everyone of them ratted on me, I was made to be the example of why crime doesn't pay... even though I hadn't done 10% of the crimes that were put on my shoulders.

So I was arrested, booked, and released. Charged with conspiracy to deface federal property and a host of other bullshit charges that were not even close to the reality of the crime I had committed. I was trying to explain this to the judge when he told me "if you are so sure you haven't commited these hosts of crimes, take a polygraph test and prove it". I GLADLY agreed to as I had nothing to hide and was being forthcoming about my actions (even though I refused to rat on those fuckers who turned on me).

Enter the polygraph. I sit down, meet the guy who was to administer it, and we get along well. I tell him the whole story and he actually seems sympathetic as he had a kid my age. It was at this time he asked me off the books if I did it to which I responded "yes, I did parts of it, but not what they are accusing me of, nor to the extent they are accusing me of it". He then explained to me how it would be impossible to polygraph me with the fact that I would effectively be admitting guilt while simultaneously describing the intricacies of what I did, and did not do to the system. So the guy did a noble thing, he stepped up to the bat and called Deputy Dick-Weed and asked him if we could reach an agreement. Deputy Dick-Weed told him that if I would confess on record RIGHT THEN to what I had done, he would not push for me to serve time in Juevy, only fines and public service would be a result. I agreed. Quickly.

Here's the problem though, I gave my statement in writing based off of the word of a crooked cop that promised he would not fuck me. He spoke to my father on the phone and assured him thrice that no time would be spent in corrections, I know because he was on speaker. I even got my lawyer on the phone and after HE talked to the cop, he agreed to this course of action. Here's the moral of the story boys and girls: Don't trust anyone, and if you are backed into a position where you must trust someone, get it in fucking writing. I showed up to court, the charges hadn't been lessened, and now the prosecutors were unwilling to meet my attorney ANYWHERE in the middle. They wanted a hard-core example to the community, and now they had a confession in writing.In short, they threw the book at me and the judge was about to sentence me to 3 weeks in Juvenile Detention.

Unfortunately for me, as I soon came to realize, my attorney happened to be a crooked son of a bitch and was on a first name basis with the cop. Furthermore, he was a member of a family that had there roots based in both the police (2 brothers were lawyers) and the cops (the third brother eventually replaced Deputy Dick-Weed as the cop on our school grounds... two years later that cop would knock up a 16 year old girl... you can't make this shit up). So my lawyer reapproaches me and tells me he has came to an agreement for a plea of guilty that would land me three weeks in juevy... thankfully for me I am smarter than anyone else in the damn room and I immediately begin to beg them, informing them that this will force me to lose my job.... what I neglected to tell them is that my job was working for my father and there was not a snowballs chance in hell I would lose it.

So the powers that be, which evidentally all had a vendetta toward me settled on me spending the unsual amount of time of 4 weekends in juevy. Now, my eye had been sporadically twitching as this situation began to get worse and worse from the time of my being collared, but now it was in full Michael J Fox twitch mode as they cuffed me and drug me to jail, no passing go, no collecting $200.

Whilst in there, I encountered a group of skinny, dirty, skinhead racists. They immediatly approached me and asked me to joing their little click so we could go and "beat some niggers" as they put it. I laughed in their faces, picked up my pack of cards, and walked over to the much bigger and scarier group of African-americans and asked if they'd like to play some poker. While playing they all told me of why they were in there, some battery, some larceny, all scary, all dangerous. So eventually the topic came around to me and the head of the gang inquired "I like you little white boy, what'd you do to get in here?". This was sink or swim as I needed protection in there and wasn't lowering myself to the racist cocksuckers. Either I lie and make a big grand story, or I play it straight and deal with laughter. So I told them.... hacking. I went with honesty. Their responce? "No way!!!! Can you teach me how to do that too????" Whew... close one, so I informed them and gave them my contact info, telling them Id be happy to instruct them anytime, anywhere.

Now, in retrospect I'm not sure whether I impressed them with my technical knowledge, or I genuinely frightened the group of big, angry black men with my non-caring, direct presence and my twitching eye... either way, I'm totally fine with the outcome and i endured a minimum amount of violence save for having to punch my neighboring cellmate for attacking me because I accidentally woke him up while having the guard deliver my inhaler one night while he was sleeping. But fuck him, he deserved the black eye i gave him and it furthered my reputation in there.