DICK RETALITORY MOVES

WHEN RETALIATION BACKFIRES: MY ARREST WAS THEIR POWER MOVE—BUT I SHOWED UP ANYWAY

Let me tell you a little story about power, control, and what happens when you refuse to bow down to bullshit.

For those of you following the saga with Anamosa State Penitentiary, you know my husband Joseph has been the target of relentless staff retaliation, harassment, and unconstitutional treatment behind bars. We filed a civil suit that outlines just some of the many violations:

• Inhumane and uninhabitable conditions, including black mold in the showers, lack of access to clean water, and denial of basic medical needs.

• Violation of due process, including being kept in solitary confinement for more than twice the duration he was sanctioned for.

• Failure to follow their own policies and procedures, from mishandling grievances to denying lawful communication between spouses.

• And of course, retaliation and ongoing targeting, simply for exercising constitutional rights.

  
  

My hearing in that civil case was set for just days after July 14th. Funny how timing works, right? Because on July 14, I discovered—by sheer chance—that I had a warrant out for my arrest.

What for, you ask?

According to the state, I allegedly brought “contraband” into the prison… back in March. That’s right. They claim something happened nearly five months ago, but the charges conveniently show up right before my court date.

Now let me make this clear: Video surveillance doesn’t evolve or change over time. Whatever they think they saw in March, they saw back then. And if there was actually something there, wouldn’t they have arrested me then? Wouldn’t that have been the legal and logical move?

Instead, they waited. Sat on it. And then pulled what several lawyers I’ve spoken to have described as a classic cop dick move:They overcharged me—slapped on a Class C felony—knowing that comes with a no-bond hold until you see a judge. Translation: they wanted me locked up just long enough to miss my own civil hearing. If I missed it, it would’ve been dismissed.

That was the plan. But it didn’t work.

Here’s what I did instead:

I called Jones County Jail myself, found out how to turn myself in quickly and correctly, and rolled up there the very next morning. I brought my teenage boys, lined up my bail bondsman in advance, and showed up prepared with the $1,000 I thought I might need for bail. (Plot twist: I’m not broke. Sucks to be them.)

I turned myself in on a Wednesday, because that’s the day the judge comes to the jail. (Call that strategic brilliance or just being fed up—I call it both.)

After being processed like a criminal—orange jumpsuit and all—I sat in a holding cell until I saw the judge about three hours later. She originally set my bond at $10,000 cash CRD, but after I calmly explained that I’m a homeowner, have no criminal history, and posed zero flight risk, she brought it down to $5,000 CRD. That meant I posted just $500 and walked out a free woman by the afternoon.

And guess what? I made it to my hearing.

And let me just say: it went well. Like, really well. Scary well. And that’s probably why this retaliatory arrest happened in the first place. Because they knew we were making progress. Because they knew their time of operating unchecked was ending.

Now I’m more convinced than ever: this whole arrest wasn’t about justice. It wasn’t about law. It wasn’t about safety or rules or procedure.

It was about revenge.

It was about scaring me off. About keeping me quiet. About keeping Joe isolated and in fear. But if that was their goal, they seriously miscalculated. Because I’m louder now. Smarter now. Fired up and fearless.

All we’ve asked for from day one is simple: Transfer Joe to a facility where he isn’t being retaliated against. Where he can serve his time without fear, without abuse, without harassment.

Instead, they doubled down. Now the spotlight’s brighter than ever.

And I’ll keep showing up—courtroom, jail cell, wherever—because justice doesn’t get handed to you. Sometimes you have to put on an orange jumpsuit, walk through the fire, and demand it.

Stay Tuned… and Let Me Tell You About the "Dick Move" of the Year

Oh, and let’s not forget the cherry on top of this shit sundae.

The sheriff who issued the warrant? Yeah—he’s tight with the staff at Anamosa State Penitentiary. No surprise there. It’s a small town, and in small towns, justice gets twisted into favors and vendettas faster than you can say 'retaliation.'

This very sheriff—same one who’s all buddy-buddy with Anamosa staff—was the one who served my husband legal documents for our civil suit. And, like the true professional he is (insert eye roll here), he made sure to verbally inform Joe of the warrant for my arrest while doing it. Classy, right?

Not only that, but he made sure to specifically include in the warrant paperwork that I should be strip searched before being booked and processed. Very kind of him. So thoughtful.

So there I was—doing five squats, butt-naked, in front of a female correctional officer like I was trying out for a prison-themed OnlyFans audition. Apparently, they needed to make absolutely sure I wasn’t smuggling some invisible contraband in my twat, or asshole, or God knows where else. Because that’s how dangerous I am.

Honestly? It was the most action I’ve had in a long time.

So thank you, Sheriff. For your dedication to public safety. For reminding me how deeply the system is willing to dig—literally—when a woman stands up and fights back.

Stay tuned for how the charges pan out.

My attorney is already working on getting them dismissed entirely. There is no evidence, and quite frankly, there’s not even probable cause to justify the arrest—just politics, power trips, and petty revenge.

But if I have to go to trial? I will. I’ll go in swinging—with facts, with truth, and with a voice that’s only getting louder.

Because when systems try to bury you, you’ve got two choices:Lay down, or dig them up with you.

I chose the latter.

JONES COUNTY JAIL- ANAMOSA IOWA