Published on: 10 Dec 23:31

Matt asks

Every few months, I get a wave of phone calls from the local jail, from a guy that keeps getting himself arrested. I have no idea who this guy is, but apparently my phone number used to belong to his girlfriend. I tell him or the guard, whoever I speak to, that he's got the wrong number, but he (or the jail) keeps calling me every time he gets arrested.

What do?

My answer

Isn't it obvious?

One-up these bastards. Every single cop or guard in the entire jail. Drown each of them in counter-calls. Here's how:

Travel the world. Jump from city to city. Each time, locate the grimiest, toughest, wildest pub in the baddest part of town, saunter in the front doors, locate the toughest, gnarliest bastard on the premises, then spend the entire evening buying him drinks. Then other drugs, depending on availability. Ideally speedy-upper drugs. Coke, meth, anything and everything to make your latest pal feel he's the most invincible gladiator in the entire goddamn universe. Stroke his ego. Fan his ambitions. Bolster him up into the unstoppable warrior-king most men once fantasised being as wee lads and/or teens. It's not too late. He could totally be that one-man army. He could punch apart all who stand in his way. He could finally make his adolescent dreams come true. He could become the Gigachad.

But brawling his way to the top of society will take years and years. Hundreds of fights. Yeah? Does he accept that heavy price? That commitment? ... Here, have another line of coke. Answer me! Does he accept? 'Course he does, he's a a goddamn Gigachad. Attaboy!

Oh look out the bar window. A group of cops! There is no finer first step to Gigachad Heaven than to take them all on at once. Right? ... Here, have another line of coke. Good! Now kick their asses!

But first, here, please accept my business card, with my phone number, for when the world bows to him, and it shall, and when all quake in terror and submission, and they shall, and they plead for his mercy and his benevolence ... could he find it within his conscience to tell them his impoetus? His inspiration? His honorary next-of-kin, perhaps? His phone-a-friend? ... Here, have another E. Oh he accepts? Great!

This phone number will naturally belong to one of the staff at your local jail.

Repeat this cunning scheme dozens of times over, worldwide. Visit the roughest dive-bar you can find, butter-up the local hulking Neanderthal with every upper-drug in the universe, convince him that riches and glory will flow everlasting unto him via thousands of colossal fights and brawls and riots, for years, then slip him your contact deets with yet another local-jail-personnel phone number.

In this manner, your local jail's staff will be bombarded, submerged, with thousands and thousands of calls from cops worldwide, for years to come, seeking the next-of-kin of their arrested Hulkmeister. Forever. They'll never find the time to call you too, let alone re-arrest this original dickhead. Peace at last!

Source: https://www.facebook.com/groups/393804108644865/po...