Tinky Winky

I've finally sobered up a bit.

It's good to be feeling like a writer again, after all I've sufferred. I have such a gift with words, a talent with sentances a gift with paragraphs that incorperating me in Hollyway was a crime against literature, not just an unjust and illegal and malicious crime against myself. Look for yourself, there are no style errors in my blog! Each word is a carefully chosen gem and each sentance is like a string of pearls.

All the women in there loved me. Many cried when they saw me leave, even the cold-hearted Govenor let out a long sigh as I left their office for the final time., indeed the Govenor seemed secretly happy that I had regained my freedom and that they wouldn't be seeng me in their prison any longer.

But the CPS and the prison system have a horror of writers like myself, humble servants of truth who blog their innocence and publicise secret history and the inner machinations of their persecution of the innocent - ie me - and they don't half show it.

Their tentacles go far and wide and have even poisoned Special Branch and MI5 - who were supposed to come to my rescue. Many a night I gazed longingly at my cell bars waiting for a highly trained SAS team to 'blow the gaff' and rescue me and take me away to my deserved freedom. But they never came. This is another sign of just how powerful the conspiracy against me is.

All the prisoners loved me and they would queue up outside my cell, imploring me to read their letters. I couldn't refuse so many pleading, imploring, desperate looks so I meekly aquiesed.

My favourite prisoner, Rosemary West (doesn't mind being mentioned) hasn't offended for years and it's a sign of the sickness at the heart of our prison system that this grieving widow is locked in a dingy cell instead of breathing the free and innocent air. I told her I would set up a blog for her where she could tell the world about her innocence and the injustice she has sufferred.

Like 'Rosy" - as I used to call her in our more intimate moments - I am innocent, I am not guilty. Because of a retrial I am not guilty. Just because you've been 'convicted' and 'imprisoned' doesn't mean that, legally speaking you are guilty. It just doesn't.

My other friend is Jesus who talks to me all the time. sometimes I wish he'd just 'give it a rest' and let me deal with more important matters. 'where were you when I was in the dock?' I shout at him as I hurl my slippers at his irritatingly beatific head.

Honestly, the guy just won't leave me alone. If he doesn't stop stalking me I'll get my brand new super ace legal team, who I am legally adopting, to get an injunction out against him.

It's the price of my genius I suppose, but why won't these people give me some peace? They're jelous, and it consumes them so. I'm glad I have balance in my life.

It's not easy being me, but the rewards are there. You little people wouldn't understand that though. I pity you, but in a nice way. A caring way.