Do inmates experience boredom in jail? Can you provide an example of something an inmate might do for fun if they were bored?

And that's where you've fucked right on up, since now you're inevitably going to nap, and nothing's more dangerous in jail than an intermittent sleep cycle.

That's where you typically shoot the shit with your fellow inmates.

See those stainless steel stools?

The Best Deals Today: Indiana Jones and the Great Circle, Nintendo Switch OLED, and More - IGN

They lash out under circumstances where they would normally just let things slide.

That's where you watch The Price is Right;

Time to break out the CS canisters.

6 million Chickens Dead and Counting - Daily Kos

Some eventually relent and escape to their cells and those welded sheet metal bunks…really no more comfortable than the day room furnishings, but at least you can get horizonal.

That's where you eat your meals;

That's where you play cards and board games;

Which screenshot of Hollywood can get 1002 upvotes?

Because it's hard enough to pass the nighttime lockdown in jail without having to deal with sleeplessness, what with the dusk-til-dawn florescent bulb over your burnished chrome shaving mirror shining in your eyes, and the CO’s slamming armored doors throughout the graveyard shift.

The perpetually tired don't think straight.

Take a bunch of prisoners, lock them in a pen, make them as uncomfortable as possible and feed them shitty food, and if you're VERY VERY lucky, they'll only manage to take it out on each other.

There’s a simple solution to the Shemar Stewart impasse with the Bengals - NBC Sports

Spartan circumstances only build character when you're allowed to maintain a certain level of self respect and esprit de corps.

And if you're not…well….

And a lot of this has to do with common comfort.

Why are European countries warning European travelers to be careful traveling to the United States?

You can only watch so many hours of basic cable on the shitty day room TV…play so many tricks of Spades…read so many chapters of Michael Crichton…listen to so much Top 40 radio over your earbuds, before it all just becomes too fucking much.

And as the seconds, minutes, and hours tick by, your ass starts to ache, your eyes cloud over, and your brain begins firing on one single cylinder.