POLICE sucking on MM’s

Hi again. Life has a habit of coming back and biting you right on the arse.

I really don’t know what to say. So, here goes sweet fuck all….

My car tyres were all stabbed. $300 each. Window wipers, mirrors… All broken. Etc etc.

After telling all the neighbours that I would walk up and down the street stabbing everyones tyres until someone could tell me whom the alleged perpetrator was.

I ring the police.

“Hullo, hullo hullo, whadayahaveherethen?”

[Police don’t really talk like that, but they may as well]

Hi, my name is ……. and my car has been trashed. Mirrors, tyres, wipers… All smashed, stabbed or ripped off”

“Really sir, that is no good, no good at all. Did anyone see anything?”

“Well, not yet, only just started asking. May go let tyres down all over Wellington until something turns up though. Sounds reasonable…”

“Uhm, you best leave that to us sir…”

Not wanting to argue the slack nature of NZ Police work, I count my lucky stars this guy on the phone has not heard my name and he appears to be actually proactively approaching this predicament. Just as I am thinking it is quite neat having police whom don’t just look at me and try to find an excuse, any excuse, even a planted excuse, to tazer, shoot or break bones in my foot, a guy on the second floor about ten metres (thirty foot) from my car leant out and gave me a very good description of two females.

“4am. Two slutty dressed females, one brunette with huge tits, other small blonde. Brunette plain or ugly even, blonde fuckable”

“Ahah, I know exactly whom that is. The well known, but still alive and kicking, paid police informant and all round tell tale borderline personality disorder drug ho, MM.”

So as not to be seen jumping to any conclusions, I get neighbour to talk to police. He gives excellent description of major mental fat whore and her entirely more cash warranting blonde friend.

“Brunnette, BIG TITS. I know this. I thought they pissing on my car. They crouch down between cars. I see stab motion. She stands up and her top too tight. BIG TITTIES all squish out and flap around. I see this. If I see again, I know her.” etc etc etc

The police guy sends around a fingerprint forensics guy.

Who recognises me. Doesn’t take any photos. Tells me there are no prints even though if it was a murder he would find plenty of evidence. He leaves with discouraging shakes of the head when I ask him who the hell does he use to get his van warrant of fitnessed. “It is a wreck. If the police pulled you over, you’d be fucked. “

So, now more than a week has passed. The police have not even come to interview the neighbour. The original guy handing the call was ten kilometres away. There is a closer police station. Wellington Central. And they all know me.

And, more importantly for once, they know MM.

MM has been “star witness” in getting a lot of people in a lot of trouble. Some of whom are still in jail today.

I email the “INDEPENDENT” (yeah right) POLICE COMPLAINTS AUTHORITY with copies of emails sent to me. This is quite interesting. I did not give the police my GMAIL account. They told me they would TEXT me a copy of the FILE NUMBER. Twenty minutes later there was email with my full name (did not tell them that either now I remember – I just said my first name and phone number.) Interesting.


I email, I call, I get stonewalled. I get “we have sent the file to someone else” from two different sources. I ask whom now has it “Wellington, it is not for me to say what they do”

I copy all this and send to complaints people. They ring back within hours. I tell them that previously my complaints have been dealt with along the lines of “look you stupid fuck, we’re not investigating that” even though they were investigating me for supposedly harassing the people who stole from me. Dickheads.

I get a letter in the mail saying that I am due for SENTENCING in the DISTRICT COURT on charges of assaulting MM. WHAT THE FUCK? Are you serious? How the hell did you make that load of shit stick? Jeeeezus christ. This MM bitch has either just found out I got “guilty” or her kid is away on school holidays and she is on the gear having a bender. Or, both.



So now my car is fucked. There is no money to sort it. MM got the ward meetings stopped. She has spread word to all and sundry all about it.

Turns out she has done the same to other people. When her mate Donna left her, she rung the police claiming Donna was scoring drugs from SO-AND-SO and beat her up etc.

All I can say is that unless someone high up in the police gets a handle on all these bullshit paid informants, one of them will likely end up worse for wear. It’s not on…

I am getting t-shirts made.





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