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The AfterEllen.com Huddle: What We’d Sneak into Prison

Orange is the New Black is back! (Like I have to tell you, right?) And in honor of our favorite women-behind-bars series, this week’s Huddle (as suggested by Grace Chu) is all about why we might find ourselves in prison and what we’d sneak in with us.

Marcie Bianco: My girlfriend? Umm….OK, she’s not a thing. How do you sneak something in? I don’t think my orifices are that….profound…..

Dana Piccoli: I don’t even jaywalk so this is tough for me. Maybe Disturbing the Peace with a drunken version of “Don’t Cry for me Argentina.” I’d bring sour Gummy worms. What? I’m a simple gal with simple needs.

Grace Chu: I’m in prison because I hacked into the bank accounts of anti-marriage equality groups and used the money to fund a bunch of gay weddings in The Hamptons. I was caught because the weddings were too fabulous. I would sneak in the dinkiest smartphone on the market (it’s probably the iPhone), because I need to update my Twitter.

Bridget McManus: I’d be arrested for trespassing and theft after I broke into a slaughterhouse and freed all the animals. Then I’d sneak my dog Francine into prison so she could cuddle me in my lumpy twin prison bed.

Ali Davis: I have concerns that this will turn out like the desert island Huddle: I’ll join a prison gang of shy nerds for the Jane Austen subtext reading group and start running Adderall in exchange for pens and journal pages and then find out that Dara has a complex international network of gourmet treat smugglers and another goddamned infinity pool.

Lucy Hallowell: f I had to guess why I ended up in the clink it would probably because my overprotective nature got the better of me. Someone probably asked one too many times “so, who is the REAL mom?” or threatened my kids or my wife and I clocked them (and subsequently got my ass handed to me). What would I sneak in? Nail clippers. Long nails drive me batty and not even prison could make me backslide into biting my nails again.

Dara Nai: I’m probably doing a nickel for beating a Westboro Baptist a-hole with their own picket sign and shoving it up their ass. In prison, I’m going to need a Soda Stream to make seltzer water. I can not go a single day without seltzer. Also, a big ass bottle of Tilex because I imagine prison will be gross, and the smallest hint of mold or mildew makes me want to barf. And a cell phone because in prison, cell phones are power.

Kim Hoffmann: I’d probably be arrested for refusing to put my camera away in the front row of a sold out farewell concert for Fleetwood Mac, made more emotional by the fact that one of them is dying, or did die, or dies as we witness them performing a triple encore. In my defense, I couldn’t see the security guard’s flashlight waving at me through the thick cloud of pot in the crowd, a nonstop river of tears, and the booze train I’d end up on to compartmentalize the anguish of this most heart-wrenching of curtain calls. It’s not my fault he took my camera, and my flask, and any other illegal matter that becomes uncovered in this process. I’m booked, and matters are made worse when I bad mouth the S.O.B. after he pokes some humor at my lesbian PDA. I’d actually be content without my phone in prison, and think some Aardvark hot sauce would do me some good with that food, plus a tourmaline for protection, and definitely some castor oil so that I could get on everyone’s good side and make them heating packs for their cramps. “Go see Hoffman, she’s got some oil packs for those bad periods. Plus (whispers) I heard she caused Mick Fleetwood to have a heart attack on stage.”

Karman Kregloe: I’d be arrested for my adventures as a modern pirate for justice with the Sea Shepherd Conservancy Organization, ramming whaling boats, thwarting dolphin and shark killers and operating on a charter “outside the petty cultural chauvinism of the human species.” Once incarcerated, I would need my iPod, or else!

Valerie Anne: Whatever I’m in prison for, it will definitely be alcohol-related. Booze makes me stupidly fearless. Whether I’m caught with more rum than soda in my Diet Coke bottle on the subway, starting a public argument with someone for being WRONG and disturbing the peace or getting so drunk that someone convinces me to break into a pet store to free the puppies. I have no idea what I’d sneak in. Maybe some black Henna ink so I could put a teardrop on my face to make myself seem more badass than I could ever hope to assert all on my own? My only hope for surviving prison would be to weasel my way under the wing of someone significantly tougher than me, so maybe I’d sneak in cookies? Cookies are usually a good way to get on someone’s good side.

Heather Hogan: I wouldn’t last a week in prison. I am the biggest germaphobe you have ever heard of in your life; I won’t even tell you how much hand sanitizer I go through on a monthly basis. And I’ve got the most obnoxious sensory issues and mad ADHD. Like, I can’t bear for stuff to touch my skin unless it’s practically made of clouds. I need white noise to sleep, I can’t concentrate when other people are talking. God, the idea of not being able to control my environment to accommodate my neuroses is terrifying. I would turn into some kind of monster. Or I would die. Probably the second thing. Seriously, thinking about communal showers right now makes me feel nauseous. I can’t go to prison. Please don’t send me to prison.

But if I did end up there, I’d sneak in my iPod and my SleepPhones. They’re pajamas for your ears! Maybe if I could just block out the NOISE NOISE NOISE NOISE I’d be OK. (I would not be OK.)

Trish Bendix: I’d probably be put in the clink for taking lewd photos with public statues or some kind of Lesbian Avengers-type shit. I’d want as many books, pen and paper as possible in prison, but I feel like I could have those sent to me pretty easily. So if I have to sneak something it, it’ll be a pair of earrings. Not only do I feel pretty naked without them, but I could use them for weapons as needed.

What would you bring to prison, and why are you there in the first place?

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