I Just Thought You Got Anally Raped

The Boy describes prison to me.

The Boy: I want to go to prison.

Me: Uh....

TB: There's food in prison.

Me: Yeah, but...

TB: They have pepperoni, and sausages, hot dogs, and chicken of course.

Me: They might, but I really don't...

TB: Yeah. It's like a restaurant. In Canada. Prison.

Me: I don't think you want to go to prison.

TB: Yes I do. Everyone likes me there. They all cheer for me and give me high-fives.

Me: Probably for the wrong reasons, but prison isn't a good place.

TB: And pizza. They always have pizza, and hamburgers. Lots to eat.

Me: Okay, so you'll be well fed. Still...

TB: And everyone gets dessert.

With all this eating, it's surprising the prisoners have any time left over to make license plates and telemarket.