Editor’s note: This article is the third by Mr. Tankatrucks and it is our recommendation to read the first two for background info. Hello America, Dearest Officials of Immigrations…

Hello, It has been many months since I last write to you. I spend much time in confines of Attica prisons. Little does simple man know that to get pensions from government under many name is crime. And to think walking home from bar after losing trousers to Matilda in poker would prompt officer of law to take me to precinct for processing. At local holding camp many indignities I was suffered. First, many dark men with tribal tattoo play football with head, as guards take betting on my life. Next, high judge accuse me of fraudulenting state of money from pensions. Skinny man at my table tell me not worry. Next thing I am in orange suit strapped to very angry black man on bus. I am very scared now. I thought they take me to Africa to search diamonds.
Now my story take nice turn. Two hours later I arrive not in Congo but Attica prison to serve 18 month for misunderstandings with officials of socialist services. America prison not like work camps in old country. No dentist to take gold teeth and no prison brand was left on neck. As I walk to cell new comrades cheer my coming with whistles and promise of brother like love. My cell comrade very friendly man offering share of body heat in cold cage but soon move to own bunk from smell of old Romanian man. Next day I find very promising job in prison. Guards no care about old man like me, Mr. Kunty Tankatrucks, so I carry bags of powder under man sack for bald man with iron cross and sign of Hitler on his arm. Soon I carry much respect in prison. Very angry little man from Mexico push me down stair one day is found with 47 holes in belly next day. All this enjoyment and at same time government pay for food and bunk. Sad to say I am back after only nine month because I act well.

So please enjoy writings of old man while you can. I try very hard soon to go back to see friends at prison.