The terms of my parole are intended to make my parole successful. The terms of my parole were signed by five members of the state’s board of parole. The terms of my parole contain one typo and two mistakes of grammar. The terms of my parole forbid new tattoos above the collar. The terms of my parole disallow my patronage at any and all Pep Boys and AutoZones. The terms of my parole stipulate that I pay the Commonwealth a $90 per month parolee fee plus a service charge of $275 per month for my GPS ankle bracelet. The terms of my parole state that I may not patronize divebars, stripclubs, and poolhalls. The terms of my parole require me to sell my motorcycle because it is a magnet for trouble. The terms of my parole give me three months to get my IROC-Z off the blocks and on the road. The terms of my parole tell me to plan to be home and in bed every night before the eleven o’clock news comes on. The terms of my parole disallow me from dragging anything down into my mother’s basement that I cannot drag up out of the basement myself. The terms of my parole, it is clear to me, were written in part by my mother. The terms of my parole implore me to stop shaving my head because I have a wonderful head of hair, especially when I keep it cut above my ears. The terms of my parole suggest that I should begin dating a woman who has some self-respect, like Marie Lent down the street. The terms of my parole remind me to breathe through my nose, not my mouth. The terms of my parole prohibit my use of a glue gun. The terms of my parole bear evidence of my sister’s sense of humor. The terms of my parole state that I should stop smelling like a character out of William Faulkner’s Sanctuary. The terms of my parole suggest that I refrain from reading any more true crime books. The terms of my parole strongly suggest that I visualize my personal narrative of rehabilitation as the stuff of an animated Disney feature film.