Leaving Dallas, I’d sometimes be in a hurry to get back home so I could do more cocaine. Wherefore, I’d drive my ass off those last desolate 25 miles! Such a lonely highway 101 turning east off of 59. No one out on the road at 3:00am in the morning. Once I passed the last little convenience store on the left, a place where the only cop around was sometimes known to sit, I’d stop. Take one last hit of weed. Set the timer on my trusty Timex Ironman wristwatch, and run through the gears like a bat out of hell just to see how fast I could make it home!

Topping a hill, a deer ran out in front of me and I slammed on my brakes, while at the same time gripping my steering wheel for dear life jerking it to the right. Temporarily leaving the road, I drove off into a field, through a barbed wire fence, yard farming for at least a city block before managing to navigate back onto the blacktop. Major rush! But no time to cry over spilled milk and a few scratches to the paint job. I had to beat my previous time and get back to my place and the glass free-base pipe I loved so dear!

Downshifting into third at the onset of a curve, I let off the turbo for a brief second, then nailed the accelerator to the floor. At 7000 rpm, I shifted into fourth and hit 110 on the straight away. I could see the streetlight in front of my house and I knew Melinda Ann would be waiting for me at the door. Downshifting again, third, then second, never bothering to hit first, I coasted into my driveway, shut off my engine and listened to it tick as I walked away. Opening the hatchback to retrieve my dope, I heard my neighbor’s pickup fire up as he slowly came roll in’ my way.

Many a day and night I drove the hell out of my Nissan 300ZX Turbo back and forth to Dallas. I always did love to drive fast. I was used to driving my hot rods through the quarter mile, but this was the first time I ever had an oppor­tunity to roadrace my entire driving career. The curves were plentiful and the straight-aways few on highway 101 into Short Oklahoma where I lived. And there was nothing like the roar of a turbo charger when you kicked it in. So cool to watch that turbo guage on the up and down side as the powerful sports car engine accelerated and decelerated into a hairy ass curve. Loved the way that aviation gas smelled too. Fuck some regular unleaded, I bought my fuel at the local airport. High octane for a “high” performance driver with the gas pedal jammed to the floor!

Loved the way my Z-car would squat in the rear when I dumped the clutch at 5500 rpm. And man would that fucker ever leave some cool ass dual black marks! Reminded me of my first GTO when I test drove it on Lincoln and Main. Yeah, I might have been a little hard on my sports and import. But hey, that’s what fast 2-seater sports cars are for, right? Pop the clutch, burn rubber and mash the gas! See if you can bury that speedo so deep to the right you couldn’t see the needle any more! Yeah, never thought I’d like an import. But I sure as hell did. Dying to get my hands on one of those twin turbo 350’s or maybe a Toyota Supra twin turbo when I get out, or maybe something even more exotic if I could so afford.

Like the old song goes, “Mario Andretti would have been proud”. Nigel Mansell, the British Grand Prix racecar driver and distant relative of mine, didn’t have shit on me! I was one hell raising mother fucker when I was behind the wheel of my little red Z. Scared the shit out of some that rode with me. Melinda especially so when I drove it off the road one night drunk as a dog. Managed to ramp back up onto the pavement though. Just like the night I damn hear hit that doe. Tore the shit out of my front end. And my poor old ZX Turbo never drove right again. Finally slamned it into the back of a Dodge Daytona. On purpose of course. Insurance job. One I can talk about now. Statute of limitations you know. Hen! Heh!

Yeah, those Japanese sure know how to build a sports car! Can’t wait to get out of prison so I can one day get another to dog the shit out of! Anybody that knows me, knows I’m a true-blue maniac behind the wheel. Which one of you girls out there has a fast, exotic sports car that needs broken in? Because who­ever it is, you’re the one I want to come home to baby! I’ll not only teach you how to make love. I’ll also teach you how to drive like hell as well! Any takers, please send pics of you and your ride to Tripper, c/o Tales From The Cells! As I remain the biggest speed demon from hell you’ll ever meet in your life! Speed on brother! Hell ain’t half full yet! I’m Tripper! Better Days!

Hello guys and girls!! This is Tripper’s Rep, Nicole. I have a few things to let you all know and I wanted to make sure everybody got to read this. Sometimes bulletins come and go and people don’t have the time or miss them. So bare with me. I’m not the writer Tripper is. ….

Tripper is being prepped to be taken back out to an outside hospital. Complications, lost blood work, and a plethora of little things all added together has created quite the scare in Tripper. He dosen’t know what is going on, and of course with all the time on his hands, he is thinking the worst. They do not tell him when he’s being taken out, however, they’ve drawn blood, they did an EKG (to show his heart can handle the anesthesia), and they’ve done a physical. It’s a bit scary considering the health care is so subpar there. Are they just catching up with something, or is this the one case they are following through and up with? Hopefully so! I am betting he will be taken out before Christmas. I will not know until Christmas Day what is going on with him, as the phone minutes have run out for this monthly period. So please keep your thoughts with Tripper.

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I want to thank everyone that sent a card for the card package!! We got a total of 16 cards with 2 days to go! I know Christmas is a much busier time for people. For his birthday we gathered 67. He will be happy to get a nice bundle of cards, and all the cards sent were so full of love! There will be a “late” package, as a few people have said they are sending one from overseas, so please, still drop a card in the mail. Gifts are always welcome too. Click the Santa in prison banner at the top for all the information on that. Or just send here..

Tales From The Cells

P.O. Box 430

O’Neill, NE  68763

Also, I’ve fallen behind on the page. I will get a new blog posted tomorrow night. Things have been a little crazy with my family and I. A traffic accident occurred, and several other small but annoying inconveniences. Things will be running smooth again soon, please hang out!! Tripper lives for your comments, your witty remarks, your opinions, and your ideas and general thoughts. YOU, each and every one of you, are what make the difference in his life. Please don’t forget that! I know with the holidays, everybody is busy. MySpace takes a back burner I am sure, but as I’ve said before, please don’t forget ol’ Tripper!!

Everyone have a safe and fun holiday! Hug your family and friends. Let them know you love them. You never really know what tomorrow might bring, so it’s important to give even the crabbiest person a squeeze or hell, even a handshake!! Everybody buckle up and drive safe!! Have a Crown for Tripper!! Happy Holidays! Cheers!

Tripper’s Representative

Anytime someone comes off with something stupid, you’ll hear my neighbor Bill Archer say, “Who’s in charge of rumor control today?” Because he knows the crap he’s just heard is just that. Straight up bullshit. Don’t believe any­thing you hear and only half of what you see in these places is what I say, because there’s always some idiot running around telling lies and starting rumors. I for one, don’t like to look stupid when duped by a prankster simply out to have a little fun. In closing, you know President elect Barack Obama is going to cut all non-violent drug offenders prison sentences in half. Don’t you? Not likely. Yet there are a bunch of these assholes running around here thinking just that. My release date is in late 2014. I’ll see you then. I’m Tripper! Better Days!