As avid readers will be aware, I have faced many trial and tribulation this annual cycle of Fiendshit (a year is to most people what is about equal to one annual cycle of Fiendshit – Or maybe six point six six dog years…… God not being the reverse of goD. Far from it. Ahem….)

Thus, having told the background story to those whom have just joined us and full-filling contractual obligations to sponsors we may progress to the main event…

Tonight’s  fixture ;

In the blue corner we have NZFIEND, himself having represented himself in court many times and even won a few “not guilty” verdicts from Judges… Almost a fifty percent success record with no silly plea bargains.

In the red corner we have NZLAW, represented by such oddities as KELVIN CAMPBELL (yes, a real name, seriously…!) and a judge (nameless sonsofbitches at the best of times….)

The  blue corner has with him today a mental health worker advocate and support person…

** advocate and support agency as enforced by probation – probation as it happens falls into the category of Switzerland in this bout – pussies, sitting on the fence, undecided whom to support or wave flags for. Unlike Phoenix supporters, the Probation Service will not support a sinking ship as they simply refuse to support anything… Until any event has been completed, Probation will do nothing, be seen to do nothing, and just make sure their I’s have dots and their T’s have dashes in the meantime. Professional fence sitters. Pity the fence isn’t made of second hand dildos….. Hmmm… Pretty. I may have to go for a little lie down…….. Just saying….

The support worker shows up at 8:25am as NZFIEND is not allowed to drive (loss of license) and his current bail conditions do not allow him to enter the town where the courthouse is.

The road from NZFIENDs house only goes to the town. There is no other road. No other route. Just one path to travel – And it goes straight to the town he is not allowed to enter. Therefore, legally, NZFIEND is confined to a place with no shop, no support, no friends, nor family. Boo hoo for poor old me. I am not applying for permission to hold a pity party. Nor do I want one. Just the ability to be treated fairly and justly in a government organisation would be a good outcome!

I must be one really bad person to deserve all this.

You would think an assigned lawyer would work for you. You would think KELVIN CAMPBELL (yes, a real name FFS) would work for the person whom is employing him. Yet, this is not the case. He was clearly in the opposition corner before even so much as appearing in court.

He, Kelvin Campbell, was late to court and had not rung or contacted me despite my effort in the last three weeks. My support worker was astounded at the way KELVIN pointed his pen and used lines such “you need to shut up and listen to me” when Kelvin was repeating the Police version of events as though they are factual. The Police have exaggerated and lied numerously over the last year, but they are currently making a new baking dish to support the huge amounts of baking they are using to make their cakes, eat them too, and be left with cake to share with court staff…. For us to get a fairer legal system, we just need take away the Polices ability to bake these amazingly self serving cakes. Main ingredients are BULLSHIT, INNUENDO and SMUG. Topped with icing sugar and presented to the judge with a cherry on top. No one has yet told the judge the Police cakes look a lot like a large penis, but the criminals have noticed.

The criminals also talk, and ALL laugh about KELVIN CAMPBELL (yes, yes, a real name… I know, I know)… When in the holding cells with a bunch of local gang members three weeks ago, I showed them his card. They all rolled on the floor laughing. One pulled out some drugs and shared them with me.

POOR FUCKEN ME they said between chortles…

I stood up for KELVIN.

For he was in my corner.

But, no longer. What a tosser.

My support worker was astounded at the way KELVIN treated me. KELVIN lambasted me at every oppurtunity, would not listen and had the cheek to tell me I had agreed to enter a guilty plea when I had actually said “that may be an acceptable avenue, given a complementary sentencing indication”. What this means, and I am not a lawyer so could have this wrong, is “that may be okay if the judge gives a indication of an acceptable sentence”. I don’t know how else to put it. The Queens good English is lost on these one eyed professors of law.

Remember the LAW and JUSTICE are probably two opposing forces in the realms of this small town system.

So, after KELVIN telling me “I am not acting for you” and leaving the room, I am acting for myself. KELVIN then tells the judge that I refused to work with him (completely untrue) and then had to be told to sit down by NZFIEND and the JUDGE if he was not acting. He tried saying yet more drivel, before the JUDGE told him to sit down.

This is where things went very badly.

The JUDGE refused to listen to NZFIEND (even though NZFIEND is now representing himself) and threatened NZFIEND with remand in custody if NZFIEND opened his mouth.

However, the judge then DEMANDED NZFIEND enter a plea on charges that the Police had admitted were wrong and were going to reduce… The JUDGE then told NZFIEND he would only discuss this with a lawyer and further, the JUDGE would not listen to NZFIEND representing himself.

NZFIEND is representing himself, and therefore the JUDGE is handing down advice (orders) that are illegal.

NZFIEND heard quite clearly that he was remanded with “BAIL TO CONTINUE, PLEASE STAND DOWN” when NZFIEND almost shouted to be heard.

NZFIEND was heard saying “Your honour, I will fail bail, I have no license, no legal way of doing shopping, have to be in a large city over night for surgery and medical issues which will mean I will fail bail. There is no question of this your honour. Not to enter [this town] but to reside at home 7pm-7pm is impossible given my circumstance

Although the judge had already said “stand down” he actually fucken listened and gave bail for ONE WEEK for these issues to be raised. They were meant to be raised today. That is one of the things the judge at hearing THREE WEEKS ago said.

So, I have to find a new lawyer and have a lawyer represent me. 

This is not NZ LAW.

My Butterflies were correct. Just knew this was going to be a shity day. The judge is giving me unjust and highly unlawful directives whilst telling me “if you open your mouth I will hold you in custody until the very last case of the day” and the like. Just how is a man able to represent himself with his mouth sewn shut? Since KELVIN COOPER had walked out for no just reason just five minutes earlier I had attempted to enlist other legal counsel, but was never going to be successful in the time frame offered.

And the scoreboard at HALF TIME is

We will return with the conclusion of this bout as appropriate.

In the meantime, do not ever employ KELVIN CAMPBELL from COOPER CAMPBELL LAW incorporating HOROWHENUA PROPERTY LAW.

At least not for criminal cases.

He may be able to hold your hand through some very expensive and amazingly drawn out property issue, but any other court is not for him.

KELVIN CAMPBELL from COOPER CAMPBELL LAW incorporating HOROWHENUA PROPERTY LAW should never act for you in a serious criminal matter. EVER. Not even for free. And he was getting paid for representing me.

He told NZFIEND that NZFIEND would not get bail and that NZFIEND needed ELECTRONIC BAIL (ankle bracelet).

NZFIEND told him “NO, I will get bail, if you won’t do it, then I was do it myself”. KELVIN then simply read some statements from the writing NZFIEND lovingly created the weekend before in his jail cell (thanks to having a copy of the BAIL ACT 2000 in his cell) and now clains to have done NZFIEND a great service.

Like I say, his demeanour and attitude towards NZFIEND was apparent for all to see. Others have commented on KELVIN COOPER  of COOPER CAMPBELL LAW incorporating HOROWHENUA PROPERTY LAW being a complete arse in his dealings with me. He will lose work because of it. Maybe even have to answer to higher powers than his Mum one enlightened day. Until then, his good Mum can be Judge and Jury on his pathetic little criminal career. http://www.stuff.co.nz/manawatu-standard/news/10464060/Death-sends-a-message-victims-mother Campbell, acting on instructions for another lawyer, stated “it came as a surprise” his client was arrested… OMG. Seriously, this is the best you have done as a criminal lawyer? Fuck off Kelvin. Your “aid” is not wanted here.KELVIN COOPER CAMPBELL LAW

Unfortunately, the POLICE rumour mill, the innuendo and the lies seemingly work.

KELVIN and the LAW people have all bought into it. Hook line and stinker…

He asked me why I should not enter a guilty plea, and then repeatedly told me to shut up and listen to him as he read the Police version of events. The Police version of events is DESIGNED TO MAKE THE ACCUSED LOOK BAD. To have your own lawyer trust the Police cake baking over his own employers answers to questions is downright unjust (me, EMPLOYER – you, SUBSERVIENT)..

Unfortunately, for little old KELVIN and his property law, what really happened that night and what the lawyer expected to hear were not reciprocal to Police version, or Police “nudge nudge, wink wink” capabilities at its demonstrably finest.

Nor should it be. NZ COURTS are an ADVERSARIAL place. He said, she said. I say, they say. They lie, I get fucked. That kind of an environment.

Someone should tell KELVIN that is how it works. The accused gets to face his accuser. That does NOT make him a criminal and them the victim. If admit to wrongdoing, and I do, I am only the criminal in the capacity of that wrong doing. I am not legally required to agree to the Police version, nor should I.

Then security people at court –

My name was called out and I stood to enter the dock. As per custom in NZ Courts, based on the British system of centuries standing, you are required to enter a little box of humiliation called “the Dock”. The court security people told me to sit down back in my seat and got quite grumpy about it, even trying to grab me as I sidestepped them and made it to the dock.

The other parties in this incident were due in court today charged with violent offences against each other.

The court system changed their days of appearance, or kept them in “victims” areas and added security measures as I was appearing this day also.

All this equates nicely with WITCH HUNTING – The other old time British sport which was still active in 1950’s… http://www.theguardian.com/uk/2007/jan/13/secondworldwar.world … I am being whispered about, innuendoed over and shat upon by these people. I have yet to hear what these lies and problems are, but have been forced to retire from football coaching children, have lost access to my own children, have been warned by others that Police and social agencies are warning them about me and the police have been “painting alarming and sinister pictures” off me to all and sundry. “Pictures” can represent any manner of lie or fearful irrational thought. Yet the police admit to painting pictures of sinister content.

Then the JUDGE.

Demanding I not speak, yet have no legal represtation and expressed a wish to represent myself. As such, you are entitled to utter words in your own support, and / or, defence. The judge ordered wrong legal advise and should have to go re-sit his judges license. I have re-sit my license when I do something outrageous in a car. So should this judges whose whim can fuck your life.

A note to new readers — EVERYTHING I say here is true. I can prove the Police intend to paint this sort of picture, they even used the exact term in their own unsuccessful opposition to bail documents. I am more than willing to back up all everything I say on these pages.

So, fuck you NZ JUSTICE. You take the cake. Eat it. And shit it out to be recycled.

Sadly this does myself, the country and, most importantly,  the complainants no real good at all. For I have done wrong, I admit that. Yes, I do. The level of wrong should not be TEN YEARS in jail.

The level of wrong should be put right via reparations or other methods that allows those harmed to move on and maybe benefit from it.

The “justice” system will not allow this.

And the Police have stopped it. NZ POLICE

For, even though the other parties were contacting me and I was making some efforts at putting things right, the Police have got them play victims. This, in itself, is the wrong thing to do long term.

These people would benefit more from meeting me, knowing that I intended no harm, knowing I was sincere in my efforts to fix things and knowing I was not a threat.

By being forced to break contact and being told how dangerous NZFIEND is (he isn’t, by the way) and told a bunch of other shit like NZFIEND is a kiddy fucking rapist (he isn’t that either, thankyouverymuch)…

The court staff, the lawyers, the probation officers… They all treat NZFIEND with badly tarnished brush.

Before he even gets to open his mouth.


My place….


How on earth can you not be happy after half hour in scalding hot bath?


my photos on wall…. Yuhp, wasted as most of the time, didn’t stop creative


Emac letterbox. Eletter box?


beach 100metres away


Some of my plants… Knew all that misspent time growing cannabis would be good for something

When someone is struggling…

If someone is struggling, don’t hand them a gun with a bullet in it. They might shoot you before working out it was meant for themselves….

My year has sucked arse with exceedingly hot chilly in it.

Cannot see kid, powerless and unable to make my own decisions on anything, getting fucken grief off everyone I know when I even try to do something half decent and every cunt out there remembers one little shitty thing, not a hundred good ones.

And, at the end of the day, we all struggle.

I admit to struggling more than ever this year. Age is a part of it, sore back, thinning hair, overwhelming sense of having missed life and love.

Have been saying this a lot lately… “I am fucked..”

And I am. 


Bless me father, for I have sinned. Has been a whole life since my last confession… So here goes fuckall…

Started smoking again after seven years of non smokerville. Have a huge hole in me that am trying to fill with unhealthy doomed relationships… Can totally understand sex addicts… Put it that way…

Having moved out of the “big smoke” to a little place in the country ten kilometres from the nearest shoppe’s, loneliness set in, just like being stuck in a small flat by myself for three months. My only “friend” up this way soon turned into a stress. I only had her, and she knew it. Soon I did not want to see her any more as she was only showing up once a week to work on her car and then would not eat or drink water in the sun and refused to listen to any help offered. I met a friendly lady at the supermarket and found myself in a confusing old fashioned love triangle that should not have been. She swore black and blue she was not seeing the father of her kids. I don’t mind if she was just using me for attention from him. If only she would have been honest about it.

Having been just released from custody and being on twelve month intensive supervision through the probation service having a fight and ending up in jail again was not the best course of action.

But it is what happened. I am back home now, but with no friends or support within a 100km. The young girl has found someone else (not hard for a damn pretty and energetic young girl, let’s face it) and me, being me, is truly happy for her. Honestly, for so many reasons….

Conversely it makes me unhappy. She could be doing so many things. Creative and thoughtful things. But appears to be still too interwoven into “gangsta” land….. Never mind… Her life… Not mine….

So, father, I did some damage to someone. I don’t ask their forgiveness, but would like to apologise and try putting things right. The system (Police) just want me in jail. But how does that help the victim? I cannot do anything for them from jail.

So, life. Has gone WORSE to WORSE.

Am lost. Do not know who I am any more. If one person appreciates my efforts it astounds. One hundred good things are outweighed by one bad.

The scales of justice and human perception are truly fucked.

Therefore, so am I.

AFTER coming up here to escape drama and trouble, Narcotics Anonymous “re-acquaintanced” itself with my goodself. Have been to a camp out, and was really enthusiastic about a few of the smaller meetings in places like Palmerston North and Foxton. These have proven very useful to me, and me to them in some instances.

My higher power sometimes works well. There are multiple instances, but here is one…

A lady whom I really appreciate in her efforts with me and other struggling addicts fronted up when she heard the judge had confined me to my home, NOT to enter the local township (the only road from my place goes to the town, btw!) and that there was no provision for attending N.A or other supports. The judge, the police and the lying informants are setting me up to fail. This lady, same age as me (just saying) sends me a text saying she is at the Palmy North Christmas Majic show. Having nothing better to do for my happiness deficit that is life, I drove there. The very long way around so as to only skirt the local town by a few hundred metres, of course…

I get to the show and park right at the entrance, not knowing if it costs or anything. It costs $5 to get in, which I pay with a twenty.

I am thanking my higher power for cheering me the fuck up a little and show the couple running the stall my neck tattoo… My signature… For, fuck me and my higher power, the first stall I see at the show is this….
Yuhp. Go tell that to the grandkids.

But wait, there’s more…

Waasigns not contemplating buying one of these things, but was interested enough to take the photo…  The man behind me at the gate comes running with a new $10 note grasped in an outreached hand…

“Sir, sir – You dropped this $10 note”. 


Enough said……

So, thanks to the lady who runs the candy floss truck, there was some good to come of the day out the house. Upon my return to put the little shrooms next to some plants on my porch, the chickens ran out to great me.

“Food, food” they screamed in the annoying  Gallus domesticus fashion….

I, for the first time in a month, found a nest full of eggs. 11 of them. Hidden between house and flowers – the dark patch in the picture…

Thank you for the Candy Floss and Foxton Fizz. You made my day.

Pink Truck

The Wall


Maybe this wall of my kids stuff should be thrown away. Fucken well burnt. Publicly.

Doesn’t give me any happiness seeing it. And…. I don’t know. I thought where I am would be far enough. Don’t think so. It is small town NZ and not knowing anyone…

Am missing being a Dad, don’t know what my life is any more. Am struggling with what to do.

At least life is okay in one sense — it’s not having to deal with family court and lying shit heads. Is that even positive? It is compared to April and May (June, July too come to think of it…)

NZ POLICESo, the Police are still pursuing more charges against me, even though TWO judges have said interesting things… First judge said something along the lines of ..

“No matter how much I would like to remand NZFIEND in custody, I simply cannot remand a person in custody on a charge that has no merit…”

The second judge said something along the lines of…

“As it stands this case is hardly worth the effort, I urge you (Police prosecutors) to have a long look at this and do something about it. (Prosecutor squirms, Judge notices). I realise you are getting orders from further up on this one, but I will set down a trial for HALF AN HOUR since you are pursuing it.”

This really means the Judge is telling them to piss off and try varying the charge again. They have had two attempts at putting forward a case that would stick, and the Judges have told them “no merit” and “have a long look at it and do something about it”.

Meanwhile the tax payer and myself lose money, time and trust in the silly system and the vindictive Police managing it.


I post tweets, they get instantly deleted. I can see them on my account, but on other accounts they simple never appear.

I had the police show up at 4am demanding to talk to me about a bloody tweet I sent that was supposed to be stupid humour. I was told a well respected journalist had complained about me. She, whom happens to be very well followed on TV – much of her stories are inclined with investigating Police and CCDHB fuck ups) totally did not complain. Someone did, but not her.

The Police (at 4am) knocked on my door. I opened it a little bit, keeping foot behind it.

Police “Hey NZFIEND, step outside, we need to talk”

“About what?”

“These tweet and public media writings of yours”

“what the fuck?”

I open the door so they can see me better. One man with suit and tie and clip board (at 4 fucken AM for godsakes!) and one uniformed officer, looking a little bemused. Who knows how many others were hiding around the corner. 

“We have had complaints”

“I have a complaint too –

The police, facebook and twitter are censoring my writing illegally.”

“Oh, well, we aren’t here about that.”

“Of course you fucken ain’t”

“We are here about this tweet reading … __________________________”

“Oh piss off, you are kidding…”

“No, we are not kidding.”

“Are you telling me that
Miss ____ _________
complained about THAT?”

“Why else would we be here?”

“Surely she would have seen it in context of other communications and realised it is intended as humour?”

“Obviously she did not”

“Are you telling me she complained?”

“Why else would we be here.”

I slam the door and tell them to fuck off. A little respect each way would be nice. I left it a week or two and contacted Miss _____ _________ myself and she replied within hours stating she had not complained (probably had not even seen the tweet in the first place!) but her company does have a policy of alerting authorities to such matters.

Even then, I doubt the Police would go to everyone whom made a obvious sarcastic tweet at 4am.

The Police have been looking at my cellphone and my cellphone had told them I was coming home at that time, having been away elsewhere. I was sending texts to someone whom was concerned I was a little too tired to drive etc etc etc…. Ten minutes after getting home, POLICE knock. Interesting maybe.



And this young lady has learnt to drive a manual (stick shift) pretty well. My car is not easy. It is complicated, moody and horrible.  Yet it quite likes this young lady.

As do I.

I am proud of me sometimes.

Just need to remember it on a daily basis.

My gratitude list still only ever gets to “being able to walk”.

She is always telling me to make lists.

She is twenty yet considers herself to be my mentor.

I may yet take her advice on lists.

Gratitude list…

  1. “Being able to walk, piss and poo by myself.”
  2. … Who cares….


Cats Trump Depression

Can hardly blame myself. Realistically, that is a bunch of shit. Of course I can blame myself.

Should blaming yourself be a thing for your own depression and lack of progress on a new path, then that path may seem further away than ever. Out of reach even.

If there is no viable point of light at the end of the tunnel, then what is the point?

You lose the light, become heavy. Weighed down with the armour of the past.

Did not use a lot of drugs last night. Did not use any. Should I be happy or proud about that? N.A would suggest yes. They can piss right off. I don’t want to use. I feel like it. But… fuckit….

And now that it is 11am, Saturday 15th August 2015 it is an hour past the time where all the local junkies have done their deals and quietened down for the day.

 Of course there are other avenues. But… fuckit…

Due in court for sentencing on the heinous crime of sending text messages to the mother of my child in a few days

(breach of protection order is what they call that – for fucksakes these laws….. Don’t get me started…. Oh, was I starting myself? Sorry….)

Am sick of saying sorry. Am sick of stuffing up. Am sick of feeling really bad. Am sickly.

They say you shouldn’t put all your eggs in one basket. My eggs were all in one basket. The basket was MOVING A FEW HUNDRED KILOMETRES AWAY FROM MY KIDS MUM, MY KID and THE TEMPTATIONS THAT CONSTANTLY SURROUND ME.

This would have worked well for me. And others involved with me. There are projects and paths that really really really would be so much easier and more successful and fulfilling with two people on similar journeys helping each other.

I put my name down with a rental management lady to get a house on Tuesday. Am worried to bits that it is not working. They have not contacted my references at all. The Housing New Zealand people I rent from currently have not returned two phone calls and three emails over the last week.

And the Judge is going to look unfavourably at me living within 5km of my kids mother. They may want to keep me on a ankle bracelet as my kids Mum says she is so scared of me. I have never once threatened her, hit or injured her. She has punched me in front of the kids and been found guilty of assaulting me. Yet I lose the kid and have to move out of town.


I can only blame myself.

But then why can’t I rent a house? I have enough money. I have a pretty clean renting record (no tenancy hearings, no rent owing, always get my bond back… that kind of thing)….

Enough excuses.


I want to use drugs, but can’t. I want to move, but can’t. I want to have some say in my own life, but – it appears – can’t.

BUT and CAN’T’s do not make for a healthy positive outlook.


I see FEJIOA TREE. Nothing special there, until remembering it was grown from a seed my daughter and I germinated. Avacado, lavender, lemon, even banana’s. All grown from the ground up by little old me. Then the worm farm. Started with a handful of worms, now millions. Have emptied and filled these large car tyres three or four times. Still I put food in for them. This starts to remind me that if I really was that negative and pointless there would be no reason for growing these things. You must have some faith in the future to waste your time doing anything of the sort.

And then, something else catches my eye.

Is that the neighbours scrawny horrible kitten sunning itself on the roof of the shed? It look so peaceful making the most of the few hours of sun we have had this week. It looks content.

No way that fucken kitten has a stress induced headache and is worrying itself to bits.
Lessons to be learnt from a narcissistic feline? Maybe….

And then the kitten picks up its head and looks at me. It is living in the now. Just how it knew it was being observed closely is a matter for my higher power to work through.

The content looking kitten is a five year old cat.

I have been living here too long. Time to call that property management person and put my misery and worry to bed.


Still stuck at home 24/7. Woke this morning wanting to use….

Hey my favourite little munchkin, wishing you a superb day….Just woke up, had a great sleep apart from one dream where I was selling drugs and these big white guys came in house and ended up taking one of my stashes and having to break bones in my hand with a hammer as I knew them but they had to make it look tough for others. Then I found out where they were staying as this Detective (John Harlem, Wgtn Drug guy) decided he hates them more than he hates me. No doubt he had to run this through the people higher up the chain than him, as long as Paul Berry isn’t involved, I trust the address given. With a wink and a nod…

I woke up needing a piss. Wonder what woulda happened next? Hmmmmm


Who cares.

I don’t give a shit. I just need some other stuff in life… Slowly but surely is foreign to me. More like rip, shit n bust. Hahaha

So, there it is. My latest email to my good friend, whom is a great distraction from my boring old life.

I woke up feeling as though I needed to get some methadone or something delivered. I still feel that way now. Have not made a call (nor leaned out the window and asked anyone passing) and is now 10am so most of the people with spare opiates would have done their deals and be happily entrenched at home in front of colour tv and / or PLaystation 2’s with failing controllers.

Hmmmph. Writing it down and poking fun at yourself helps. Stupid old junky shit of a brain telling me I need needles and opiates. I don’t really…


Was glad to have been of service…

In an absolutely stupendous way, am glad to have been of service.

A number of the unfortunately afflicted, otherwise known as those whom deal with Wellington Addiction Services, have contacted the author of this, the worlds shittest blog, either asking for advice for upcoming meetings, or commenting on their own experiences with the said Addict DisServices.

Some of the best service I have been, to both the afflicted and the DisService, has been verified today. This is a POSITIVE OUTCOME of a USER LEAD APPROACH to dealing with a perceived LACK OF ENGAGEMENT FROM THE SERVICE.

TOM “Baa Baa like a sheep” FLEWETT,

Imagine Clarissa in a head mistress uniform strapping your bare arse with a cane. Imagine Tom keeping her away from the animals…. Imagine whatever you like that helps you deal with them fucking you.

http://scripts.iucr.org/cgi-bin/paper?S0567740877002544 Some public speakers use the technique of imagining their audience as being naked. This works reasonably well when attempting to control nerves and self doubt etc. Given the possibility that you do not have access to high levels of PROPRANOL this is entirely relevant. Just remember the rumour that CCDHB has a huge supply of sponsored strap ons supplied by visiting drug company sales representatives and imagine vividly what they do with them whilst looking them in the eye.

It will stop you presenting to them as annoyingly angry when they deny your well thought and well researched treatment regime to coerce you into their antiquated and highly dysfunctional therapy system.

Remember to praise them both for having nice arses on your way out to score elsewhere.