Or so the joke goes, from folk who have clearly never set foot inside a correctional facility.

While I'm talking about our new jail, there is not the time nor the space available here to debate the perceived benefits and failings of this nation's penal reform code.

There are generally two camps on the matter, with varying degrees of self-righteousness on both sides. There are those that believe one is sent to prison as punishment and not for punishment and others, in the antediluvian camp, who would happily see one thrown in the slammer for some hard time regardless of trifling matters such as the charter of human rights, etc.

And the latter group were huffing and puffing aplenty last week when it was revealed conjugal visits are on offer for the better behaved members of the Alexander McHoliday Centre (oh, the wit). Gives ''At her Majesty's pleasure'' a new ring, doesn't it?

Can we really find nothing else that heats the underside of the collar?

As with all things bureaucratic, there is a long list of boxes that need to be ticked before the prisoner can even begin to hope.

Including a strict carrot and stick arrangement (a green light for good behaviour, bad behaviour and you're on your own) and the rather churlish restriction of visits only every second month.

Six times in the sack a year is a slow batting average on anyone's scorecard. On the other hand, given the nature of the long time between drinks, one can assume the visits might be rather, er, robust and repetitive, tipping the number into double digits.

Perhaps the gnashing and wailing comes from a green-eyed section of society.

Maybe from those whose side of the queen ensemble is a little woefully cold of late? Not your regular Not-In-My-Backyarders, per se, rather the Yes-Yes-In-My-Bed set.

Meanwhile, pause for thought can be found in California, the very birthplace of free love (oh, pipe down Londoners). The government is seriously no, really considering releasing up to 10,000 of their jailbirds much earlier than anyone not least the prisoners had hoped. Why? Because the size of its budget deficit threatens to swallow all state services into a giant Arnie-size black hole.

Fixes the conjugal question.

Scores of ex-cons racing through the front gate, off to sow their wild oats with abandon.

You can almost feel the frustration seeping from behind the walls of the Pleasure Prison, can't you?

jessica.wright@canberratimes.c om.au