When Paul Manafort had his bail revoked in June and was forced to leave the comforts of house arrest for prison on account of having the balls to engage in alleged witness tampering while awaiting trial (a charge he denies), most people probably thought his accommodations were about to take a turn for the worse. But most people were wrong! In fact, by the former Trump campaign manager’s own estimation, he’s basically being treated like a king while incarcerated in Northern Neck Regional Jail. In a court filing on Wednesday, prosecutors argued that Manafort should not have his July 25 trial on bank and fraud charges delayed because his lush setup has more than allowed for him to fully prepare for the case. “Among the unique privileges Manafort enjoys,” prosecutors wrote, are a “private, self-contained living unit, which is larger than other inmates’ units, his own bathroom and shower facility, his own personal telephone,” and an extension cord that allows him to use his laptop “in his unit and not just the workroom,” the latter of which he can access between the hours of 8:30 A.M. and 10 P.M.

But what about the e-mail situation? Has the ban on inmates sending or receiving electronic communications cramped his style? Not so much!

Manafort has even “developed a workaround” to send e-mails, which prisoners normally would not be allowed to do, according to prosecutors: “In order to exchange e-mails, he reads and composes e-mails on a second laptop that is shuttled in and out of the facility by his team. When the team takes the laptop from the jail, it re-connects to the Internet and Manafort’s e-mails are transmitted.”

(Manafort’s lawyers noted in another filing that “any communication is . . . sent by counsel in a manner that is consistent with the rules of the detention facility.”)

When it comes to conducting business over the phone, Manafort—who has been charged with, among other things, conspiracy against the United States—is apparently able to make unlimited calls, allowing him to speak with his attorneys multiple times a day; in fact, it was during one of his monitored chats that he reportedly noted he’s being treated like a “V.I.P.” In addition to his private suite and C.E.O. setup, the disgraced lobbyist is not required to wear a prison uniform, which, for a guy who spent $1.3 million of of his foreign-lobbying cash on suits, is huge. It’s not clear whether Manafort has sported any of his Brionis around the the yard, but the odds seem high!

For weeks, Manafort’s defense team pushed for the former Trump campaign chairman to be moved to a prison closer to Washington, to ensure he was given ample time to meet with his lawyers—in a motion filed last week, Manafort argued that his trial in Alexandria, Virginia, should be moved to the fall, because the distance between Northern Neck and his legal teams’ headquarters made it impossible to prep. But then, in a Tuesday court filing, Manafort reversed that ask. “After further reflection, issues of distance and inconvenience must yield to concerns about his safety and, more importantly, the challenges he will face in adjusting to a new place of confinement and the changing circumstances of detention two weeks before trial,” his lawyers wrote. “With these considerations in mind, Mr. Manafort respectfully asks the Court to permit him to remain in his current place of detention.” And honestly, who can blame him?