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Early Release

BudLite

‘I’m Baa-aack!’ Since an appointed bed time was not part of my parole, I decided to take advantage of my park custodian position here at TackyToo to open up the Rec Room to do my daily post. The requirement is I post every day, there was nothing said about what time of day.

Before we discuss the events behind why I’m now a blogger, I probably should discuss the result that I, my family, and the court system, wants my blog to achieve. Apparently I have what is referred to as “anger management issues”, coupled with a “contempt for authority”. The judge, and a couple of shrinks, felt that by forcing me to release a little steam daily, I would avoid the seismic eruptions of the past. We’ll see.

Judge Baldwin Rood decided to give me one last chance, even after me snickering “Bald and Rude” when he was introduced to the court. Judge Rood chose to be the bigger man and didn’t add a contempt charge to my laundry list of crimes. Good for me.

In exchange for daily entries in a diary, more often if needed, regular AA meetings, and wearing an awkward piece of jewelry that beeps when I get more than 100 feet from my house, I avoid 2-5 years in the custody of the state of Georgia. Sweet. For all of those of you who think that three hots and a cot is an easy row to hoe, let me share with you what my public defender told me. “In twenty two years I’ve never defended anyone who didn’t prefer freedom to jail”. In spite of the fact that Mulva and I clearly needed some quality time apart, house arrest was definitely the way to go.

Now, almost eight months after the incident, I can see how releasing my feelings to the cosmos and getting the resulting feedback could help me gain perspective on my life, my family, and even my assorted addictions. I sense that breaking my pattern of behavior is necessary to keeping this old man from spending his final days in jail. Maybe this high IQ these shrinks say I’ve got will get used for something better than figuring point spreads, who knows?

¬†Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, it’s 2AM. Guess I’ll head back over to Number Two and see what kind of reaction I get from Mrs. Lite seeing me come back in after midnight sober. Could be a hoot.

Speaking of the lovely Mrs. Lite, I know it ain’t been easy, so I’m going to let Willie do my speaking for me:


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