Prisonprocess.tumblr.com Website Review

I admit it—the closer I got to that enormous pile of brick, the more I got worried in the other way. When the door opened, was this gonna be totally creepy and di*ty and sickening?  I mean, as bad as a frat house after the big party?  Which is pretty bad. But not so.  It was like opening a pineapple: the outside was mean and ugly, the way it’s supposed to be, but the inside had everything you wanted.  In this case: five tiers of cells, numbered so you couldn’t get lost, each with a bunk and a toilet, so that every bro had his own room and his own equipment and none of the bros got any special treatment.  Nobody could get all shy—like me!—and hide out in his room, and nobody could have a little private party and keep all the nerds and geeks—like me!–away. Everybody was locked And hey, there I am: second tier, bro on the far right.  Definitely the best room in the best house on Fraternity Row. Who cared about getting into the country club?  I wanted to get into Prison.  So I was really stoked when the little garden path went through a gate and another gate, and there it was—the cellblock where I was gonna be living.  You wouldn’t call it a country club, that’s for sure.  You wouldn’t call it a frat house, either, although it was more like the second than the first.  And although A country club tries to look casual, because it’s at the end of the process.  A frat house tries to show that it’s heavy and threatening and hard to get into, because that’s where they weed you out.  If you get in, you’re supposed to be really impressed and grateful and so on, because now you’ll go on and end up at the country club and play tennis and golf with rich people for the rest of The building ahead of me had all the qualifications of the frat house, and more.  Heavy, hard, threatening …  And yeah, I was impressed and grateful.  I was especially impressed that the crowd of convicts fenced in front of it were totally dwarfed by the bricks and bars and