Immunity Challenge 8: Cellblock Scribes
You are in prison for a heinous crime. Write a prison penpal ad that will have hapless folks sending you porn, marriage proposals, magazines, stamps, and money for the canteen, as well as smuggling contraband in their undies when they visit.

As a part of my therapy, I've been encouraged by the doctors here to seek out penpals from the outside world and to be as honest as I am able to be, detailing the things that I've learned and the reasons for my little episode.

I'm currently residing at TineyBite Hospital for the Criminally Insane and have been here since my psychotic break, when learning that Angeline was the winner of Diaryland Survivor 4 back in 2003.

Apparently all the infighting and snarkiness involved in that contest caused me to lose touch with reality and mentally lock myself away in a deluded dreamworld, merging the Diaryland life of online with reality. The complete and total mindfuck about all this is that apparently I attempted to commit the heinous crime of kidnapping for ransom all the DS4 judges and some of the contestants - demanding a recount of the votes and insisting that the chads be checked as a condition of their release. The doctors tell me that even though I had it all planned brilliantly I failed to accomplish my mission because I became distracted by a bright, shiny object.

I thought that all of this was real, but the doctors have been telling me that it's not and that communication from the outside world will be very therapeutic in my recovery. So please, dear penpal, I implore you, help a poor confused ... ok, seriously deranged person out here.

Since the time of my "illness" I've believed I was a 37 year old southern female with two kids, a gassy dog and a shitty Ex husband. I even went so far as to keep an online diary at Diaryland using this persona -- detailing pretty much a day to day life, including anecdotes and rants.

Imagine my shock to learn that I'm a 49 year old Nebraskan man, named Bob who used to enjoy surfing the net for porn, playing in chat rooms, and making anatomically correct snowpeople. They tell me that Bisa, my moniker on Diaryland, is really an acronym which stands for Bob Is Still Alive, which is my true identity struggling to re-emerge. The doctors tell me I'm suffering from a dual persona, but the good news is that I'm feeling much better.

Me too!

Shut up Bisa, you're not real.

Those graphics that I thought I did on the computer in Photo Shop and posted on the diary? They were actually made in Art Therapy with paper and crayons then scanned in by the nice lady therapist. They tell me if I'm a good patient they will promote me to clay sculpting next spring, but that there's no chance in hell that I'm getting into the Wood Working program.

I'm still a bit confused. We get computer time each day. I thought that I had entered a contest set up on the premise of some reality (HA!) show from tv. The show is about people being abandoned in strange locations and having to compete in challenges. Geeze, WHERE do I come up with these insane ideas? Anyway, I thought I was entered in a diary contest based on that show and that I've been regularly competing in it and also updating in my Bisa diary. The doctors keep trying to tell me that all I do during my allotted computer time is play Bejewelled at MSN games and spend an inordinate amount of time at peoplefinder.com.

I stubbornly claimed to hear voices from "the Trinity" and that we spoke regularly, enjoying a close friendship. I thought for a while that I was talking to the Holy Trinity, but then began to believe this was a real person who ran off with a key grip from the beginning of DS5, but of course I now know that DS5 isn't real, so sadly this "unholy Trinity" is also a figment of my warped imagination.

Gomez and Kimo are actually the names of the interns who drag me off escort me to shock therapy. To deal with this I go to a happy place and pretend that they are my two sons and that I'm actually taking them to school each day instead of going off to be zapped.

Jasper, Bisa's beloved pet dog, is actually the drug sniffing dog that searches the rooms here twice a day. Oh and the flatulence I've written about is real. It stinks too bad to be otherwise.

The Ex-hubby I've written about is really my lawyer, who failed miserably at keeping me out of this hell hole wonderfully caring environment. The best the doctors can tell, I was so upset by his incompetence I went ahead and decided "what the hell if I'm going to be screwed by a guy, I ought to at least create a scenario in which I enjoy it" and that's when my gender confusion began.

I've been told that a penpal would help me make great strides in my recovery, by relieving the confusion that seems to have taken over. It would really help me break through if I had a real live person to correspond with, as opposed to the Diaryland Survivor people I've dreamt up in my delusional haze.

You should be willing to send me stamps so I can correspond with you on a regular basis to help keep me in touch with the real world. They've also suggested that if someone could send me various coins from around the world I can touch, hold and feel them to help me get a grip on reality - but while you're at it why not throw in a few twenties so I can rent some new videos to watch during recreation time. They keep showing me A Beautiful Mind for some damn reason and I�m getting real tired of it.

Magazines would be nice - the therapist suggested issues that highlight world events, current culture, and fashion, but hey, why not toss in a few porn mags while you're at it? In fact, the doctors tell me that I created some perverse fantasies involving the janitors here, Jon and "Uncle" Bob because of my flaming sexual addiction, and that the content of real porn is actually less dangerous to my psyche than the stuff I'm dreaming up. So could you please do me a favor and send some real porn in?

They say to ask you to please send me boxers to help me come to grips with the fact that I'm really man (and I'm all for trying to get a grip on that) ... but truth be told I'm still kinda partial to pretty pink lacy panties, so could you maybe tuck some into the box? Sorry, that was the Bisa part of me trying to re-emerge.

No! Bob likes wearing 'em too!

Shut UP Bisa!

I've learned that I'd be allowed daily off-site trips if I had a spouse, so any marriage-minded females, (No guys please, you'll just confuse me more) should definitely contact me. Visits would be allowed during our "dating" period and I'd highly suggest wearing baggy clothing so you could bring me treats. They won't let me have Pringles and Mtn Dew in here, something about nitrates and caffeine causing excitability or something. Interested individuals should send me a personal picture, email address, home address and phone number, vital statistics, a list of your online ID's and passwords and excerpts from your diary.

I was supposed to be honest in this ad, but the real honesty is that for every truth I've told here, I've told one lie. But don't expect me to point out which is which, I'm criminally insane.

Anxiously (but they have pills here for that) awaiting your reply,
Bisa
Bob

Words and Images � bisa-pet