Hello one and all! I want to thank ALL of you for continuing to stop in and check for new content! It is on the way, bigger and better than ever! Tales From The Cells is in a transition phase and we are working on all new features, an all new layout, all new reading material from a brand new writer! Approximate re-launch date is April 1st, 2009. Keep checking back though; there will be new “My Story” ads posted, as well as pen pal ads! Each has a story in their own right, a tale to tell. The ... Read Full Story

My made in Taiwan alarm clock is set to go off at 4:20am, as 4:20 once has a special significance to me. I sit up, stretch, put on my slippers, grab my see-through correctional friendly shaving bag and head for the bathroom. Standing in front of the fun house mirror (made of stainless steel), I begin to shave using my prison issue single edge disposable razor. After a bit of razor burn and a nick or two here and there, I begin to brush my teeth when the Jew comes in the bathroom wreaking of r... Read Full Story

Standing in the inmate restroom yesterday morning brushing my grill, I could hear one of the showers running from behind. Half awake and sleepy, looking in the mirror, I sensed something strange. Looking down toward the bottom of the shower curtain, I saw not one set of feet but two! That’s when I heard heaving breathing and light moaning and I looked at the guy next to me shaving who I saw noticed it too. Not wanting to stare but seeing what was going on from the corner of one eye,... Read Full Story

GET THE MESSAGE TO HIM TO CALL ME ASAP Read Full Story

Is it true, ladies love outlaws? Or is it just a popular myth we as convicts choose to believe? All I know is, I love the ladies and I hope they all still love me. Yes, it’s true. I’m an outcast from society and I do have a nasty reputation for things that are sometimes considered obscene. But does that make me a bad person? Does it mean that I have totally lost my ability to love? I say not. I’m just another outlaw with my gun belt slung way down low hoping and waiting for... Read Full Story

This is a story about a dude we all called, “Cutter”. Not as in the kind of cutter that likes to slice their wrists. Another kind of cutter. The kind of cutter that cuts people who fucks them over. Cutter’s real name is Kyle. Last I heard, he’d been transferred back to USP Leavenworth. A born and raised Okie like myself, Cutter did a lot of state time behind the walls at McAlester. He’d murdered a man and got a life sentence. When I met him, he was doing a 30 pi... Read Full Story

  At some low security federal prisons inmates live and sleep in open barracks. FCI Big Spring is one of those institutions. Men sleep only a few feet apart on cold steel bunks with shitty mattresses and worn out pillows. Lights are turned out at 10:30 pm seven days a week. Some inmates fall right to sleep with no trouble at all. Others lie awake thinking about their loved ones, their future and some lie awake struggling with their time. I normally don’t have trouble falling asleep. I ... Read Full Story

Serving a nickel at Calico Rock in late ‘93, I use to notice the warden’s daughter cruising around the fence on her ATV. Blonde, buxom and beautiful, all the convicts knew who the pretty little girl was. She’d sometimes smile and wave as she passed. Rumor had it she was still only 17. Guys couldn’t wait for yard call so maybe they could catch a glimpse of her ample breasts and tiny tight looking thighs. No one really cared she was still under the age of 18. Fantasies o... Read Full Story

It seems as if I can always tell when I really and truly, without a shadow of a doubt, unequivocally fall in love. Love, for me, just doesn’t miraculously appear overnight. It doesn’t come to me on a whim. It takes a while. Kind of like when I first started taking Prozac. At the onset, I really didn’t know if anything was happening or not. Then one day, all of a sudden like, it just hit me and I knew! The depth of feeling hit me like a ton of bricks falling from a scaffoldi... Read Full Story

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 b... Read Full Story