The Chronicles of Jess

🌪️ THE CHRONICLES OF JESS

EPISODE 2: THE BENDER THAT BAPTISED ME

✨ Written with no sleep, airborne cleavage, and a vape pen possessed by spirits ✨

FRIDAY – MANDURAH MAYHEM 💧

Me and Rhys* decided to walk from mine into town like two unsupervised toddlers on parole. Halfway there the sky cracked open like it heard my court charges and started rinsing us. Full drowned rat aesthetic. Hair ruined. Dignity left at home.

We got to the pub soaked to the bone and spiritually leaking. Cue: two mop-headed baby men who’d clearly just turned 18 and already thought they were doing women a favour by existing.

They leaned on the pool table like testosterone was a personality trait and said shit like, “You’re fun for someone older.”

Sorry? Babe, your balls just dropped and you’re already condescending?

They genuinely acted like if they breathed near you long enough you’d ovulate.

We left before I committed another offence 💅

On foot. In the rain. Back to mine. Because chaos is cardio.

Later that night, My Boy Blue made a quiet little cameo 💙 No dramatics. No “deep and meaningful.” Just turned up, chilled, left. As he does.

And did me or Rhys* sleep? Absolutely not 😵‍💫 We sat up chain-vaping and laughing at the wall like two Victorian ghosts. Then, because we clearly hate stability, we booked a suite at Crown Towers. At 7am. Like we were royalty fleeing a crime scene.

⸻

SATURDAY – CROWN CHAOS 👑

We rocked up looking like off-brand Kardashians who’d just survived a mild electrocution. Rhys looked like he’d been dragged backwards through his past decisions. I looked like a Bond girl who’d just escaped a hostage situation at a bottle-o.

And yes…I forgot the boob tape 🙃

So the silicone sisters took centre stage - bold, bougie, and bouncing like they’d just been granted bail 🔥🔥🔥

Enter: Jet and Raven** my spiritual siblings in delusion. They showed up armed with drinks, chaos, and zero questions. Legends 🍸

That suite? Turned into a crime scene 🚨 Glitter in places glitter should never be. Rhys tried to seduce the mini bar. I gave life advice to the towel rack. We were feral. Glorious. Unpackaged.

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SUNDAY – BENDER COMA ☠️

We passed out at 3am. Woke up at 8 like we’d been briefly possessed.

I sat up like someone had hit CTRL+ALT+DEL on my soul 💻

Makeup: Missing in action.

Hair: Snatched by the devil himself.

The suite? Looked like it survived both a rave and an exorcism.

We packed in slow motion, like survivors 🧟‍♀️ No eye contact. No regrets. Just vibes.

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MONDAY – PSYCHIC DAD 📞

My dad rings with the confidence of a man who hasn’t read a charge sheet.

“I spoke to the retired cop next door. You’re not going to jail.”

Oh cool, Mystic Meg 🔮 Should I cancel court then?

Me: “Well then I’ll fire my lawyer.”

Him: “Don’t be silly.”

Sorry, you can’t make prison predictions based on backyard gossip and then expect me to keep paying legal fees. It’s giving Facebook comment section logic 💬

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TUESDAY – THE GREAT FIRING 💅

I sacked my lawyer Brianna. Bright hair. Dim communication 💸

$4,000 for what, babe? She had me plead guilty to everything…including oxygen and optimism. Never explained it meant I agreed to the entire police summary. Like a clown signing her own circus permit 🎪

She’s now floating in the same bin I throw my exes in 🗑️ Good luck to her and her silent email server.

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WEDNESDAY – VOID VIBES 🛏️

Didn’t pack. Didn’t blink. Just laid in bed vaping like I was sending smoke signals to the universe 💨

Stared at the ceiling like it owed me rent. That’s it. Full shutdown mode.

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THURSDAY – WHOLESOME, UNTOUCHED, AND OVERLY LOTIONED 🫧

No feral pre-court fling. No getting twisted like a pretzel 🥨

Just me and Snow* curled up in bed. She kept whispering “Good luck” like I was off to war 💔

It hit different.

I was clean, calm… and unintentionally hairless. Honestly, unsettling.

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FRIDAY – LASHPUNCHED & LAWYERLESS 💄

Penny* showed up as backup 💪 I rocked up with no suitcase, no lawyer - just a lash lift, some gloss, and the kind of internal panic you can’t contour over 💅

I stood up solo to request an adjournment due to “inadequate representation” - aka pastel ghost lawyer didn’t explain I was pleading guilty to breathing.

My stomach? In my throat the whole time. This was meant to be sentencing day. The judge could’ve blinked and made me state property ⛓️‍💥

But by some miracle, I got the adjournment 🙏

Until the 27th.

Sentencing is locked in - like a wax appointment, but with more trauma.

I’m looking at 1–2 years. Serve half.

No pastel bitch in sight 👻

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EPILOGUE 🔥

Mandurah drowned me 🌧️

Crown baptised me 👑

Court tried to break me ⚖️

I walked out unchained - temporarily.

🔥 COMING NEXT: THE WATCHHOUSE WRECKING BALL 🔥

Walked out of court with bail in hand, lashes still lifted, thinking I’d bought myself two weeks of peace before sentencing.

6 hours later? ✨Arrested✨

Slapped with 5 new (completely unrelated, thank you very much) charges, denied bail faster than you can say “Section 2 breach,” and chauffeured straight to the Perth Watchhouse - in what can only be described as a luxury-free Uber ride with flashing lights and aircon as cold at my ex’s heart.

🚨 Cue:

• Strip search #1 ✅

• Strip search #2 ✅✅

• Legal Aid lawyer who thought my name was “Janet”

• Screaming cellmate who had full conversations with the plumbing

• Women whose brains had been marinated in glue fumes

• And the unhinged, unstoppable birth of…

💅 Karen from Cell 9 - prisoner, prophet, and spiritual menace.

Stay tuned for Episode 3: BUSTED, BRALESS & BARELY HUMAN

This one comes with concrete beds, stolen dignity, and more chaos than Centrelink at tax time 💥🩸🧃