Apr 07, 2017, 09:32AM

Notes From a Canadian Jail

Rooster writes from the can after a border misunderstanding.

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Enough of the claptrap, Rooster. Just show us your papers, please. We really don’t want to have to keep you all day. I don’t suppose you’d want to spend the night in the lobby? No, of course not. Just show us your papers and we’ll let you in. We’re not trying to be the bad guy, it’s just procedure, you know? Standard protocol. Please show us your papers and you may reenter the country. Just… Rooster, please. Rooster. Stop. Don’t be so… Hey. Hey! No need to get personal. We’re all friends here… oh, you’re nasty. You’re nasty. You’re such a fucking asshole, Rooster. Stay in Canada, for all I care. Languish in the lobby. We’re not legally obligated to get you Tim Horton’s after tonight. Fine, if you’re going to be like that, I guess I can take your order… BLT? With chicken? Heh… oh no oh my god oh my god oh no oh my god STOP ROO.

So get this. I traipse up to Canada under a false name last weekend, just to clear my head a bit, you know? I was feeling a bit flustered after finding those letters in my attic last week, and I just had to get away. Monica was worried furious—what could I say? It was something that took hold of me, no conscious impulse at all. As if I were blown by the wind to Buffalo to cross the border. I didn’t need those fake papers anyway, I just crawled right under the fence in the snow.

Those stupid fucking Canadians—yeah, they’re actually not as nice as you might think. Real assholes. Real pricks. I won’t use any gendered insults even though I’m steamed. I just need to get this out. They’re allowing me one letter a week until my sentence is up, but I’ll probably be out by the time you read this. Bennington, I want you to seriously think about what kind of an influence you’re having on the country. Nobody knows about Bannon’s brainstem, his empty vessel. They had Michael Flynn Jr. piloting the thing robo-style, but God, he looks horrible. How is a rooster going to match biologically with a blotchy wino?

Push for peace in the Middle East. I guess I’m getting big and political because I’m not 100 percent sure I’m going to make it out of here alive. Prison break and all. It’s kind of a big deal. But if the Quibbitses are anything, they’re resilient, and the universe seems to smile brightly upon us despite this world throwing so much shit in our way. Give my regards to Mr. Boehner. I’m not sure if you see him regularly anymore but tell him he needs to quit smoking. I worry. And I worry about him! Why? He nearly had me killed… but Bennington, please, as soon as you read this, get the President a copy of an Elie Wiesel novel. Er, I guess get the audiobook. I’ll be back in the States soon hopefully, I know a guy on the inside here that seems like he can get me out, but he has tattoos and does a lot of meth. So it’s sort of a toss-up. Tell my wife I love her if this is the last you hear of me. I have to go now. Lunchtime. Thin gruel. Nothing I haven’t been forced to bear before.

—Follow Rooster Quibbits on Twitter: @RoosterQuibbits


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