I can totally make shit up too – Arizona
Today’s episode of the Stabby Diaries is brought to you by Gravol.
Special Thanks to Stabby’s Pencil for being such a trooper, Stabby’s diary for having to contain all this nonsense, Stabby’s bangs for giving us a good laugh, Nurmi’s Chair for not spontaneously combusting, and Juan Martinez just because I love the little pit bull.
When we left off, it was Halloween 2008 and Stabby was going trick or treating pod to pod dressed as Norman Bates.
June 23, 2009 – Dear Diary, OH.MY.GOD. 48 hours set up an interview with me. I did it today. I was sooooo fucking awesome. And pretty. So hot. Since I have had so much time to think, I came up with a much better version of the “truth.” NINJAS. I know right, everybody loves a story with ninjas in it. This one may get me that Emmy I so richly deserve. So anyway, Home invading ninjas broke into Travis’ house to kill him, they were totally dressed in black with knit ski masks. I chose the ski masks so they were more ninja like. They had a knife and a gun, because that covers the knife and gun I brought with me, and I only lived because god reached down because I am such a good Mormon and misfired the gun. Holy shit this stuff is gold. They totally bought it. And the part where I told them I bulldogged the woman so I could get to poor mortally wounded Travis, I almost cried I was so convincing. Anyway, that explains why I’m not dead, how the knife and gun got there, and I look like a hero. Yay me. That should get me out of here.
Gonna go pack. Later Diary.
December 2010 – Hey Diary. Well, obviously that dumbass judge didn’t like my Ninja story because I am still here. Whatevs, I am having a great time. Everyone here really likes me. They also realize that I am not only their intellectual superior, I am just superior. I won Prison Idol today, much to the surprise of no one because I am just that good. My pod mates and I all got a turkey dinner because I won. I still haven’t figured out why I have to share my turkey. Pffft, it’s Christmas, I guess I can be nice to these peons for at least one day. Gotta go Diary, Mary just said something about carving that bitch up. Turkey must be ready. Later.
August 8, 2011. You know what Diary? I’m smarter than any lawyer I’ve ever met, so I’ve decided to represent myself. I know I can do a better job than that asshole Nurmi. Maybe if he fawned all over me like I’m used to, I’d let him still be my lawyer, but he won’t so he can suck it. I will show him what no years of law school can do. Judge Stephens says I can, but I have to keep Nurmi as advisory Council. Fuck, I was hoping for a cuter and maybe more mailable assistant, but whatever. I will just pretend he doesn’t exist.
August 16, 2011. Dear Diary. I am so pissed off I could refuse Anal right now. How in the fuck am I supposed to defend myself when that stupid judge won’t let me admit evidence I fabricated. I mean it’s not like it was a bad forgery. Cripes it could totally be Travis’ hand writing. This is all that nasty little prosecutors fault. Hand writing experts. Can he even DO that? He’s just pissed because he knows he will never, ever get with this. Yeah, that’s what it is. And so what if this is story number three. Nurmi assures me that self defense of nothing is a perfectly good defense as long as I can make enough shit up, and we both know I totally can. God, that prosecutor is a dick. Gotta go Diary, apparently my other advisory council is trying to bail. Better write a motion or something. Later.