Dear Kat Timpf (A Read-Along)

Chapter One

August 1st, 2026

To Ms. Timpf:

I'm in this prison in Central Kentucky reading I Used To Like You Until... and it's crazy because should you look around my charming little dump here you see we are SO on the same page! Nonpartisan, libertarian, libertine, and trapped in a prison with a high concentration of sex offenders (I'm not) about to graduate with a Bachelor's in Sociology from an Historically Black College.

Plus I'm a gay fella, out 40+ years in flyover America. Living around 1200 guys - sleeping with (largely figuratively) Black Muslims, Appalachian meth-makers, multicolored gangsters, bearded Amish felons, Christians, Satanists, Wiccans (virtually the same yet 'dem pagans wince if anybody points out one trans gal led both latter two services one week), a contingent of trans-folk: legit and not-so-much since it became a hate crime to whip up on one.

Again we got lots of sex criminals - suddenly an uptick in sports bras and makeup from the upper middle class Honky set with that legal triumph. Opinions fly on everything here yet because language is largely unhindered, we do better than "the streets" with relations, race and otherwise. Whiteness is nothing we're ashamed of. Cracker pride and supremacy aren't the same. We get that a White person can treasure their global family without loathing Blacks or Mexicans nor denounce those groups for doing the same.

Being criminal I've learned is deeply political, ergo this population understands that dimension keener than most. My post-release goals include a Master's in journalism. Teaching it to inmates is a dream for the reason I gave already PLUS true crime is America's genre. Who better with more time to write it? Journalism's Introduction as a major would, I think, get these guys stoked. Plus who better to reform our broken news agencies than reformed criminals?

Like I said time availability is a huge factor. You know as I'm saying it a detestable feature of "freedom" is the inability to utilize it with all the constraints of an average day. Before lockdown I never wrote. Now I do 4-10 hours a day. Working on me, the person I usually neglected until literally I went straight nuts is a great thing about prison. Perhaps you'll get lucky and go some time! After the kiddie's older, natch. Teenager time you'll maybe be thrilled for a 12-year break like I'm about done with. I am very refreshed.

Onto the book, I'm a third through and picking out inmates to share it with. Left of center all, and one hardcore right guy who dove at my copy the day it arrived spying a Fox fixture on its hardcover. Naturally after expressing love added "I wish she wasn't so lefty sometimes - that pisses Greg off, you know". He sleeps beside a Black gym worker, and the two go round often about the ways of the world. Sometimes the result is a day's silence after old dude is declared racist for introducing race into a political discussion first, and despite my leanings Mr. Black (we're watching " Reservoir Dogs" on our prison channel today if that means something to you) is usually not completely wrong, but not ultimately right because the coot's presumptuous but no Nazi. Clearly both need this book.

Days after its arrival, old boy asked for me to enter a (sorta) discussion about sexuality and gender(s). Hell-fire, you came to the right place! Ready for robust discourse about the nuances of Men-2-Gurlz, I dropped an intro re: I'm no lady trapped in a dude-bod but a dude what digs on dudes. Some of my friends have sexual dysphoria and are transgender. A few have been on hormones for decades, even before prison. Maddie, one of them has made news fighting to reclaim lost gender-affirming care. Losing their hormones has been nightmarish for this person with "third puberty", a wretched experience I'm told that can prove suicidal. Then there's malingering like what I expressed with the cowardly convicts, and the fashion set who think trans is a designer drug: "I tried it but it wasn't for me" was a quote, shitting you not.

According to my wild friend Maisie who got shipped to a tougher prison over being my wild friend Maisie, pointing to their body top-down proclaimed "this ain't something to try to be, it's because I have PROBLEMS". They were a whip-smart Trump supporter and Civil War buff who could make the topic exciting and alive. This world needs that vitality teaching, not doing time. Make no mistake either, this was a very unashamed individual if anybody read something as such in their statement.

Back to me, as a kid I felt like a girl but adulthood and the workforce mainly diminished that. Being around lots of men and developing my work ethic balanced me into a more masculine and confident gay guy. Prison (yeah, big gap, read like 20 blog posts to catch up) is a different animal you'd imagine. Not quite all gay porn promised through the 80s-90s, still I was surrounded with a variety and virility not before.

My first five were dummied-down on Risperdal, one evil drug a young cat here showed me the tits he grew from as a kid outside by the workout equipment today. Immediately after I hipped him to "Class Action Lawsuit" mechanics. Coming off that junk, I thought MY junk was broke but nope it was those godawful pills. For about a year I went on a "trampage" and got busy as Stormy Daniels until my disgust showed up. Since, I've tried settling down with a partner to enough crap results for five seasons of a streaming series off a popular book and web series coming soon.

End of Chapter One