CAPITOL NOTEBOOK: PRISON GUARDS MISS TARGET WITH MISSIVE.

Byline: Terri Hardy and Dorothy Korber

THE California Correctional Peace Officers Association - most people call them prison guards - are feeling abused lately over media reports of unsavory conditions and brutality in the state's cellblocks.

For months, the association has been fighting back with a series of ``Assault Alerts,'' which document the dangers of guarding California's inmates.

``On average,'' according to Assault Alert No. 99-0034, ``five officers a day are assaulted in California prisons.''

The association's aim is to drum up public support for the officers. But many of the alerts - grimly worded missives full of correctional system jargon about inmate attacks on guards - are more likely to drum up guffaws. Most of the assaults involve spitting or spewing an ``unknown liquid substance from a paper cup.''

One Assault Alert sketched this scene: ``The incident occurred while an officer was escorting an inmate to the Law Library Cell. The inmate, who has a prosthetic leg, was handcuffed by one hand to his medical walker.''

This ruffian swung around on his walker, striking the correctional officer's hip and wrist. The inmate grabbed the officer's right leg and struggled to grab his left leg, then ``made numerous attempts to grab the officer's state-issued PR-24 side handle baton.'' Finally, a sergeant arrived on the scene, handcuffed the prisoner behind his back, put him in a wheelchair, and pushed him back to his cell.

The governor's revenge

Wednesday evening. More than 100 bills wait for final consideration by the Assembly and Senate. The clock is ticking with only two days left before the constitutional deadline. What's the Legislature to do?

Go to a party, of course!

From 6 p.m. until midnight, Democrats celebrated at the annual ``End-of-Session Bash'' at the Radisson Hotel Ballroom. The well-attended event, including lawmakers and their aides, was publicized using a poster of Assembly Speaker Antonio Villaraigosa, D-Los Angeles, and Senate President Pro Tem John Burton, D-San Francisco. A real-life odd couple, the men are posing as the fictional duo.

The always dapper Villaraigosa, posing as Felix Unger and dressed immaculately in an Armani suit and holding an umbrella, grimaces at the irascible Burton, who does his best Oscar Madison, appearing slobbishly dressed and devouring a submarine sandwich.

Hosted by comedian Paul Rodriguez, the party was billed as ``an evening of dancing, entertainment and outrageous fun.'' It was the least they could do for the $100-per-person ticket. (Republicans held a much smaller do at Simon's Cafe, a small neighborhood joint six blocks from the Capitol.)

The surprise highlight of the Democratic bash, party-goers said, was Gov. Gray Davis.

``He stole the show, he was hilarious - people were rolling in the aisles,'' according to one Senate aide.

The skit began with Davis' ever-present entourage scuttling onstage with a podium. Davis emerged and began to direct them again and again to move the podium first to the right, then the left - poking fun at his own efforts to maintain a centrist policy, and at his legendary micromanaging.

In deadpan delivery, Davis explained to the crowd why he and Lt. Gov. Cruz Bustamante never travel together. The reason, the governor said, is that Burton is only two heartbeats away from the Governor's Office.

In that scenario, Davis said, the state motto under the notoriously profane Burton would change from ``Eureka'' to ``Eat (expletive) and Die''.

Typo Alert

In a column item last week, the Sherrice Iverson Child Protection Act - which was amended out of existence - was incorrectly identified as SB 90. Its correct number was SB 80.