The Slammer
Wanna fight? Then you need to find some rough characters, some tough customers, some jailbirds and delinquents. Two or three times I have picked up the local police gazette and guilty pleasure The Slammer (sold only at gas stations) just to peruse the thugs generously on display. About one out of every 30 of these bad boys looks like he needs to be in speedos and stuck in a steel cage. Probably the magazine's editors don't intend their product to be read as softcore porn, but they take my dollar anyway. Of course, as porn The Slammer is the softest of the soft--mug shots without even a hint of provocative posing in handcuffs. But as Bard recently reminded us, the imagination is our biggest sex organ ... or it ought to be.
Somewhere in Pensacola there's a mugshot of me from twenty years ago (long story). Probably not me at my best. Not everybody looks good in front of the jailhouse camera, but there's something about the circumstance and the time (usually between 1:00 and 4:00 a.m.) that encourages at least a halfway decent fight face. If you're searching for real fighters, keep in mind that the charge in North Carolina is called "affray"--but the real cuties tend be druggies and drivers who fail to use their seatbelts. For the handsome, the mugshot presents the opportunity to shine in all their flesh-and-blood glory, minus makeup, flattering sidelights, and digitized airbrushing, all the better for picturing them underneath you on a dirty mattress in the stretch of skunk grass back behind the trailer park. Here are eighteen of the busted I found on the magazine's Internet site--I've omitted the names because I just can't go there. (Yeah, not much for scruples ... looks like I am going to hell.)
Somewhere in Pensacola there's a mugshot of me from twenty years ago (long story). Probably not me at my best. Not everybody looks good in front of the jailhouse camera, but there's something about the circumstance and the time (usually between 1:00 and 4:00 a.m.) that encourages at least a halfway decent fight face. If you're searching for real fighters, keep in mind that the charge in North Carolina is called "affray"--but the real cuties tend be druggies and drivers who fail to use their seatbelts. For the handsome, the mugshot presents the opportunity to shine in all their flesh-and-blood glory, minus makeup, flattering sidelights, and digitized airbrushing, all the better for picturing them underneath you on a dirty mattress in the stretch of skunk grass back behind the trailer park. Here are eighteen of the busted I found on the magazine's Internet site--I've omitted the names because I just can't go there. (Yeah, not much for scruples ... looks like I am going to hell.)
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