Lady Bomb Escorts

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June 02, 2006


Marty Sherman’s
Jail Cell Diary (continued)...

Day Five

3:15 am
I’ve barely slept in this hell hole all weekend, but at least I finally have paper and a crayon to write with. They won’t give us pens or pencils because somebody could get stabbed.

I think I could still defend myself with the crayon though, as long as I aim for the eye. Unfortunately, my crayon is yellow and it’s real hard to read on white paper, but I’ll manage. Like my old man used to tell me: "Shermans always manage. Even in jail." Well, I’m hanging in there, Pop.

Things have been rough since last week, but I talked to my lawyer yesterday and she said I should be released in the morning. The judge finally reduced my bail at the arraignment and LadyBomb was able to come up with enough cash to get me out. Thank God, because orange jumpsuit is NOT my color.

The holiday weekend was full of surprises in here. First off, I ran into an old drinking buddy who was in on a D.U.I. and we had a few laughs. He looked bad, though. It made me think seriously about getting off the bottle myself, but I know as soon as I get out I’ll head straight for a bar and get loaded. On second thought, maybe I’ll get a nice, thick, juicy strip steak first. With a baked potato and some garlic bread. Oh, and a garden salad with lots of bleu cheese dressing. Yeah, that sounds good.

Damn. I also missed out on that Electronic Music Festival and all the kooky, loose chicks. It was all I could think about all weekend. I was really looking forward to tapping some new ass...maybe a Japanese girl or something.

That gets me to thinking...When I get out maybe I should score some poon before I eat. It’s tough banging on a full stomach. Nah. I definitely will have to eat something to get the shitty taste out of my mouth from this swill they’ve been feeding me.

I really do hate jail. I always have.

8:45 am
Man, I wonder if Angelina Jolie ever had that freaking baby. News is hard to come by in here. There’s no cable and the guys watch soap operas in the day and UPN at night. I wouldn’t even think of asking to change the channel, and the only magazine I found laying around had a cover story of Sony Bono skiing into a tree.

2:32 pm
The guard just came down and told me they were processing me out before the end of the day. Sweet freedom! It turns out Pat showed up with the bail money, not those cheap pricks at LadyBomb. Good old Pat. I should have known he wouldn’t let me down.

A.) Sajak came all the way from Hollywood to bail Marty out?
B.) Now that’s what I call a friend, my friends.
C.) Unless you call him a sap. That’s what I’d call him.


Interesting to say the least. I look forward to your future posts.
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