Something hit me like a ton of bricks today. And that something is … I’ve suddenly gotten old. October the 18th, 2008, is my birthday. I just hit “The Big 5-0″. Don’t really “feel” fifty. If the truth were to be told, I still “feel” 18. I would loved to have been able to celebrate with a full catered affair. You know, a big ass party, strippers from Baby Doll’s and lots and lots of booze.Instead, I’ll just lie here on my cold steel bunk, reminiscing and day­dreaming of better days passed.

I was born before the age of color TV, compact discs and certainly before the invent of PC’s and the Internet. All we had was black and white, record players and one of those old fashioned dial telephones to communicate with friends from across the United States. With all the new technology in the world today, I guess I really do feel a little bit old. Bunnies were small rabbits Grandpa had out back in a pen, not the Playboy variety. Grass was mowed, not smoked and gas for daddy’s lawnmower wasn’t an issue. Because it was one of those kind you pushed by hand.

Some of my earliest memories as a young boy was my mother teaching me to tie my shoes, buying sodas at the barber shop for a dime and watching JFK’s funeral on TV. Oh how everyone in the Mansell family cried the day President Kennedy was assassinated. I’d just barely turned 5 years old. At age 6, the Beatles came to the U.S. and appeared on the Ed Sullivan show. At 7 there was a huge anti-Vietnam war march On Washington D.C. and a couple of months before I turned 11, an astronaut named Neil Armstrong set foot on the face of the moon. And yeah, I’m old enough that I remember it all.

At 12 I got my first pair of bell bottom jeans, I discovered the Edgar Winter group on 8-track and I french kissed my first girl. It was 1970 and I was starting to realize my body was changing; I was definitely well on my way to becoming a man. Even though I loved my family, I remember thinking to myself … man I can’t wait to grow up so I can get a job and move out on my own! I made good grades in school, I loved my country and I dreamed of buying my very first motorcycle. Peter Fonda in “Easy Rider” was my idol and I had a crush on Sally Struthers after sneaking into the movie theater to see “Five Easy Pieces,” rated R.

Yeah, I miss being a little kid. What’s the big attraction in being a grown up anyway? When I was young, I wanted to be an adult. And now that I’m an adult, all I want to do is be a kid again. Another thing, I used to wonder why all old guys chased young girls. Hell, when I was young, I always wanted an older woman. But now that I’m old, I see why old men want young girls for mates because they make them “feel” young again. I just wish I could go back to age 12, knowing what I know now, and start all over again. I guarantee you one thing. I would not be where I am today. I’d be free, have a job and be happily married for real!

As it stands today, my knees are starting to buckle and my pants won’t zip. I’m set in my ways and “good morning” is an oxymoron. My eyesight is going, my hearing sucks and a rocking chair is starting to look pretty darn good. Where women are concerned, well I just hope I’ll still remember how to have sex when I get out. Because I have exactly six more birthdays to serve in federal prison before they let me leave. All I can say is … thank God for industrial strength Viagra and women who like to ride reverse cowgirl! And surely the girls will still want me. Right? Who the hell knows!

Wish I’d never started drinking, smoking weed and doing drugs. All which led to my present situation of course. My kidneys have suffered and so have my lungs, and even my back from doing all that time in the state joint hoeing in the fields. Should have stayed in school, studied hard and went to college instead of choosing to attend the school of hard knocks. I should have listened to my grandma and pursued a career in music or became a doctor, lawyer or joined the military. Well, maybe not a lawyer. All those guys are crooked as hell. After age 12, shit just seemed to go downhill. Know what I mean?

Despite all my shortcomings however, I really don’t feel too bad about the way I lived my life. Sure, there are some regrets. But all in all, I had a hell of a lot of fun. I did stuff a lot of people will never get to do and I’ve met people I might never have met hadn’t I lived the lifestyle I chose to live.Like you for instance. All my friends and readers here on MySpace. With tears in my eyes I can honestly say to you all … turning the big 5-0 hasn’t been that bad after all, thanks to real friends! That is one thing I’m just fully understanding in life now, and I’m the big 5-0. I’m Tripper! Better Days and upcoming birthdays to all!

So in the end, was it worth it? Jesus Christ. How irreparably changed my life has become. It’s always the last day of summer and I’ve been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I’ll grant you I’ve had more than my share of poignant moments. Life passes most people by while they’re making grand plans for it. Throughout my lifetime, I’ve left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there’s almost not enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses or pretty ladies at my door..

George Jung

** Wanted to let you all know I talked with Tripper on the phone early this evening. He was utterly floored with all the cards. He got 45 cards on Friday. There are another 15 on the way from a few late stragglers. He said he is going to get a sweatshirt and stock his locker with food and hygiene, and get that new pair of reading glasses he’s been needing for so long. None of it possible without ALL of you. This turned out absolutely fantastic. I’m so proud of all of you readers and friends who took the time out of your day to send a card, a gift, a better days. Tripper very emotionally told me that this was the best birthday he’s ever had, and asked me to thank all of you that send cards. He will be doing a thank you blog very soon he says. He spent all day yesterday from mail call until he fell asleep looking through the cards, and then today re-reading them all. You did good guys, you really really did! Thank you from the bottom of my heart, it has meant a lot to me as well that you would all come together like this. Incredible!!

One more thing to ask of you. Tripper has never had a blog hit the number one spot in the life category (or any other category for that matter). Please pass this around, read it twice, tell your friends, let’s get this to number 1!! We have a hard act to beat with Miss Stephanie; she is usually always number 1. Thanks guys, thank you all! Be Good and Be Well………Tripper’s Rep, Nic

There was a particular Chinese restaurant in my area I use to eat at all the time. They had great food and a buffet that was simply out of this world! I loved to have lunch there. And every time I met a new chick, that’s where I’d take her to dine. The owner of the restaurant acknowledged that I came in with numerous pretty girls. Sometimes she’d wink at me letting me know she knew. Never was one to date Asian women. But this old gal was different. She had long, beautiful hair and I swear she must have had breast implants. Because most of the Chinese women I knew didn’t have 38-double D’s like hers. When paying my bill, I always told her to keep the change. Smiling at me, I wondered if it was me she liked or my money clip full of fifty and hundred dollar bills. Sure was a pretty little lady. Never thought of having sex with her, although I couldn’t help but to ogle at her tits from time to time.

One day, Brenda and I had just finished our chicken fried rice and egg rolls (not to be confused with yummy-yummy egg rolls in a previous blog titled the same), when my date announced she was going to the lady’s room. While she was gone, Sushi Sue came and started taking our dishes away. “How are you today?” I smiled and asked the hot little fox as she bent down to wipe my area showing me her less than ample cleavage. “Me fine. You know me mother, she like you. She think you coolest American she ever seen. You should talk to her sometime. Ask her out on date. She single you know.” Surprised at how bold this young geisha girl was in attempting to fix me up with her mama-sahn, but wanting to be nice, I replied, “Oh cool. Tell her I’ll give her a call. My name’s Trip, if you didn’t know.” Smiling, the young Chinese girl, every bit as pretty as her mother, turned and sashayed away.

“She’s cute, huh?” said Brenda when returning from the lady’s room. “Yeah, she’s okay. But you know me. I’m not really into Asian women. I like blondes. Now let’s me and you go do a couple of lines of coke and get naked! What do ya say?” I laughed and teased. I then took a five dollar bill and three ones out of my shirt pocket and left them under the fortune cookie tray as a tip. “Here! Wait!” said Brenda. “Aren’t you going to read your fortune?” “Nah, you know I don’t believe in that kind of stuff. Pick one for both of us and you read it to me.” I said. After paying for lunch and on the way out the door, Brenda snapped the fortune cookie in half and read. “Your love life is about to change for the better.” “Yeah, right” I said. “I believe that like I believe there’s a man in the moon! Now, get in the car. You like candy? Cause I got an all day sucker here with your name written all over it,” I teased.

Two weeks later, I returned to my favorite restaurant. But this time, with a different girl and her two kids. At 9 years old, my girlfriend Kim’s son Cameron was a mean little fucker. He was totally off the chain and out of control, saying words that would make the meanest teenagers blush. “Cameron, I’ll give you five bucks if you eat some of that red hot sauce in that bottle with the rooster and Chinese writing on the side.” I told him. “Is it real hot Uncle Allen?” he inquired. “Nah, even the wimpiest could turn the bottle up and drink that stuff!” I said. “Don’t tell him that Allen!” said his mom knowing that particular hot sauce would light a mother fucker up to no end. Shaking his head “no,” he smiled at me, his four front teeth missing, knowing he wanted that five bucks like crazy. “Ten bucks,” I said. Again, Cameron the terror shook his head “no.” “Okay, fifteen is my final offer. And look!” I said when squirting a little of the sauce on my fried rice. “I’ll even try some of it myself. I’m not a wimp!”

The waitress came and asked if everything was alright—did we need anything. And I asked her to bring us another round of Cokes. When she left, I laid three five-dollar bills on the table and squirted a big bunch of killer red hot sauce on Cameron’s rice. “What’ll it be? Just tell me you’re weak. Just tell me you’re a wimp and it’ll all be okay. I’m sure your little sister Jessie would like to have that fifteen. Let me find out you’re a real wimp.” Challenging this little terror, knowing his mother was going to be pissed, but perhaps even getting a little revenge after the 15 minute sailor mouth session he gave his mother on the ride over where she just took it and did not punish him at all, not even to tell him to be quiet! Grabbing the three Abe Lincolns, Cameron shoved a mouthful of hot saturated rice in his craw and began to chew.”Gotta swallow it all or it’s no deal!” I said. He did Then all of a sudden, his face turned beet red, eyes started bulging out of their sockets and he started gasping for air. “Damnit Tripper!” his mom screamed while hitting me on the shoulder. “Cameron! Take a drink of your soda before you pass the fuck out!” she said. I gave him a glass of milk that the pretty little waitress brought with the cokes, and told him to drink it up, it would go away and next time to think about that burn when he spoke to his momma. Yeah, old Cameron baby’s mouth was literally on fire there for a while. As a souvenir, I bought him a bottle of the Chinese hot sauce to take home with him when we left.

Time now to leave, I tipped my favorite waitress and walked toward the front. “Kim, take the kids and go on out to-the car. I’ll be there in a minute. I want to get a bottle of this hot sauce to go.” “Hi!” I said to the little Asian lady who owned the restaurant and always flirted with me. “That’ll be twenty-dowwa. Everything okay?” she asked. “Just fine,” I said when pulling out a wad of bills from my jacket pocket. Peeling off a twenty and an extra five for the sauce, I didn’t notice it at first, but apparently I’d dropped a quarter paper of cocaine on the counter. “Shit!” I said grabbing for the ziplock baggy full of powder at the same time as the hostess who said, “This my tip? This for me?” “If you say so,” I replied still in shock and really not knowing what to do. Embarrassed and a bit shaken I hurried on out to my Cadillac.

From that day forth, that lady never would leave me alone. She even invited me to the back one time where we shared a couple of lines snorted from a chopping block in the kitchen. She was cute and all. But as I mentioned before. I wasn’t into Asian chicks. I’d only dated one before. And she was a hooker and way, way too skinny for me. “You sure are handsome man. Sure you wouldn’t like to take me out on date some time?” she asked grabbing me by the forearm, running her hands up to my biceps adding, “Ooh! You so big and strong!” “Maybe later,” I said and smiled, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Leaving the back and heading out the front door, I thought to myself … think maybe she’s like one of those chicks in the movies— me love you long time? Who knows. All I know is, I got the hell out of there and after that and stopped eating Chinese buffet. Take it easy everyone. I’m Tripper, Better Days!

The Red Rose
Category: Life

Among the best loved and most well known flowers in the world is the red rose. Its deep crimson color, often rich in fragrance, and the beauty of its form, have made the red rose the ultimate symbol of love since ancient times. Personally, I’ve loved red roses ever since I was a little boy. My grandmother use to have rose bushes in her yard and I’d sometimes pick red roses and take them to my mother. My mother loved roses. And so does about every woman I know. Some roses are so breathtakingly beautiful that they command intense intimate interest and bring out the best in the recipients of their love. Out of all the women I’ve ever dated, I’ve bought every single one of them either bouquets of red roses or a single, long stemmed red rose. And for the guys who are reading this blog, you should try it. Because red roses got me laid many, many times.

Females are well known for being creatures of emotion. I once saw legitimate emotion in the eyes of my lover when I gave her a dozen red roses complete with baby’s breath in a fine crystal vase of colorless, transparent glass. She was so beautiful, glowing and attractive the moment I handed her the long stemmed roses. With charm, grace and dignity she happily accepted my amorous offering of devotion, endearment and tenderness. I loved the way she smiled and the innocent way she blushed and crinkled her nose - the look of which said a thousand words. And you know what? I enjoyed making her feel good that day. The vision of which is permanently imbedded in my heart and mind to this day. Such a lovely, pleasurable, elegant woman she was. Sitting here in prison, I wonder if she still remembers those red roses and the unconditional love given to her that day.

One of my favorite things to do is to leave a single, long stemmed, red rose under the wiper blade of a love interest’s car. However, that did get me in trouble one time when the husband of the woman I was having an affair with came to his wife’s work place and found the red rose. Then there was the time I ran into an old girlfriend in a bar. She said she was single, still worked at the same place and gave me her phone number on a card. So, I sent a dozen red roses to Furr’s Cafeteria where she worked as a hostess. Only later to call and hear her say, “My boyfriend got mad when he found out you sent me roses. He’s looking for you and pissed off like hell.” But … this chick had just told me she wasn’t seeing anyone! And even gave me her number and told me to call! What a wasted fifty spot that was. For the life of me, I’ve still yet to figure out why she lied.

I once left a red rose in the office of a hotel where I was staying with instructions to the desk clerk to give it and a note to a lady friend I was expecting to call. The note which read, “For a good time, see the guy in room 222.” Needless to say, I had a great time that night. Such a simple yet erotically stimulating flower the red rose. Did you know the attar of rose, a rich fragrant essential oil, is sometimes used in making perfume? And come to think about it, I think I read somewhere that rosehips are used in certain Wiccan love spells and other culture’s rituals and potions. Can a rose be considered voluptuous? As in suggesting sensual pleasure by fullness and beauty of form? All I know is, roses are startlingly beautiful and every woman I’ve ever given them to fell head over heels in love. They just fell and fell and fell!

After having spent numerous years behind bars and growing increasingly old, I often wonder if I can still get anywhere by giving a woman a dozen red roses. Surely they’re still considered elegant, vivid, colorful and the ultimate symbol of love. Tenacious of life and erotically stimulating, if I can’t do it on my own any more, maybe I can be assisted with the delicate intimacy projected by the rose. And believe it or not everyone, I’m still a romantic at heart. On Valentine’s Day I give red roses to the one I love and adore. And on her birthday she always receives the same. In closing, just want to let all my female readers know … I’ll love pretty women and red roses until the day I die! The red rose - the ultimate symbol of love! I’m Tripper. Better days full of love!