Typically…

NZ HERALD shares Multi millionaire business guy gets caught with four grams of good old fashioned cocaine, gets name suppression made permanent, gets a small fine, almost zero percent of his net worth…. Meanwhile people like me go to jail for taking a couple of painkillers to get on with everyday life.

Fuck you NZ Justice. YOU OFFICIALLY SUCK. 

Highlighting the gap between the haves and the have knots has never been simpler.

This wanker got caught with FOUR OUNCES (over 100 grams) of pure cocaine and gets fined the equivalent of 0.0001% of his income.

The drug law in New Zealand is garbage. And, although pushed on us by Henry Anslinger followers after the bullshit prohibition on alcohol went west, must be adhered to.

If you, or dare I say it, I, were found with an amount of cocaine large enough to fall into the category of DRUG DEALING, we would be going to jail, no question. Along the way we would not get our names permanently hidden from public scrutiny.

New Zealand “JUSTICE”

Fucken UNJUST.

John Oliver VS Capitalism and Addiction

Remember FOX NEWS said “BUSH HAS WON THE ELECTION” so all the other news outfits started doing it so as to not be behind, or miss the scoop. The thing is – BUSH DIDN’T WIN. He lost – but the other guy, hearing that he had lost, threw in his towel and conceded, at which point he was fucked. Don’t forget FOX news was run by one of the Bush family at the time…..

Anyway, slightly off the topic, but when have you ever criticised me for being on topic to start with..?..

We need more honest proper journalism and independent investigative journalists. Nowadays you can spot errors in about every single story on every page of every newspaper. Main TV news seems to be more and more like the internet news of old every day.

And therein lies the problem.

People want cute cats, death and mayhem.

The mass public will not sit through a thirty minute story showing both sides of an argument properly… 110km/h on highways kills people.. Boy racers are all druggies with bald tyres. Cute cat.

John Oliver Does Drugs

Sorry about taking some saturation out of your overly coloured American TV face John old Boy…

And then there is JOHN OLIVER. 

He did his usual fifteen minute of TRUMP BASHING, and to his credit he manages to keep this fresh and interesting each week – or maybe it is just due to the fact Trumpt comes up with so much shit each week he is simply too easy, and then progressed to do an opinion piece on the state of addiction in the good ol’ U S of A.

Not a bad effort… Other than he took great pains to ridicule the term “pseudo addict“.

A term I hadn’t heard of. A term which sounds, on the surface, to be total bullshit.

Good on you John, you are the man.

In the context of a drug company trying to show the world it’s drugs are not the cause of addicts problems, it possibly is bullshit. More than possibly even. Plausible denial anyone?

But wait — There’s more…

(yeah, yeah – you guessed it…. Unca Fiendipoo has a spanner. And a good throwing arm.)

Start scratching under the surface (or maybe just start scratching depending how much of an addict you really are) the theory is quite sound. It may come from the mouth of a pseudo scientist, but someone who exhibits addictive drug seeking behaviour may be no more of a problematic addict than you or I (queue Americans favourite laughing track – the auto chuckle)… 

Fiend says –
“Pseudo addict” may just have a place in this debate on how to deal with the problems of addiction in capitalist environments.

Let us just say… Just for debates sake… 

If I am in pain (me? never…) and need a few opiates to coach my kids football team, I go to the doctor. The doctors glasses slide down his nose and he looks at me sideways. No matter how much they know about my pain, my back, my lifestyle, my parenting or my need to participate in life on terms agreeable to me, the maker and the pharmaceutical companies – the doctor will always look at “addict” potential first and my quality of life second.

Purdue, we have a problem.

And, by the sounds of this John Oliver thing, so do hundreds of thousands of Americans.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I have not gone all soft in my old age. Americans can all go still fuck right off and suck Clintons dick / clit dry as far as I am concerned.

However, I feel for the pain and the difficulties the poor people who are controlled by the whim of the pen. On a good day the doctor will write. On a bad day, the doctor wont. The days are not so much swayed good or bad by his kid playing well at football — more the pressures put on him by media, drug companies capitalistic ways and the controlling bodies antiquated views of addiction.

This week John Oliver has told the world the drug companies are confusing the doctors. They obviously need to play with their own product some more.

John Oliver. Take time to read GLOBALIZATION OF ADDICTION.

Or, since no one has an attention span any longer than a thirty second sound byte (I know – I am ADHD super hero number 666) …

Dear John @iamjohnoliver

please look up Dr. Gabor Maté  on YOUTUBE.

Thank you, and goodnight.

John seems to have pitted himself against capitalism AND addiction. The first time anyone in history has managed this. A little like … hell … cannot quite work out what it’s like.

Maybe I am very much every inch totally drug fucked as the idiots at Wellington Addiction Services would tell you.

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. 

facebook_bullet

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….
mushy_stall
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”. 

The sign said “THREE LITTLE ONES FOR TEN BUCKS”

mushyies
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

October 8th, awesome day, but 9th totally fucked me.

Having just wrote four hundred words on cellphone and WordPress lost it all, I am simply going to sum up… My best mate and beauty girl has to go. Used needles, so upsetting behavior.  Awake twenty hours, splitting headache, roosters crowing and I want sleep. Am not heartbroken, am truly shattered and just needing to get this yarn out. No matter how embarrassed I will be later, fuck you all. The cellphone screen is a blurry haze and my pathetic attempts at oblivion came to nothing, as they always have.

25 years of trying to destroy yourself, you think you’d have it sussed by now…

My young friend is awesome. Her future could be so great. She cares, she took me to family court, she is beautiful inside and out.

But she is complicated and dealing with addiction and mental health issues. She is also capable of some ruthless violence. I love her, admittedly.

Have tried, truly. We have had such a brilliant two days, and then seriously almost killed eachother. We faced up in public area. I admit that sometimes I see exactly what I am going to do, and it was not pretty. She had already managed to not cut me up or rearrange my skull, I could see that. But half an hour went by and she was still so shitty she was holding back from attacking me. She pissed me off so much I saw myself doing some stuff that I needed not to do. She has never seen me angry and not giving a fuck. It may surprise her. We were so close to seriously hurting eachother. I had already decided which bit of concrete her head would break on, but outwardly I was calm. I talked and joked with staff at the premises, I stole her cellphone from her lap as she went to drive off without my tools and bags. She refrained from whatever grizzly and horrid things she had planned. Even though we sat within hitting distance (oops, that was me. She kept moving away, although she was main aggressor, odd she was so keen to be violent yet stayed away..)

And, then an hour and she was still not talking and driving and stopping at gas station for hour without saying anything.

Another half hour of this driving down the motorway and I opened the door to get out. She stopped me by grabbing me, I think. No way was I allowed out.

Why would someone who wants me gone, stop me from leaving ?

Why is this crazily beautifully hearted young lady so willing to dismember me. Why aren’t I scared in the least of her? What hell will ensue if we both are bad at same times?

fuck. it is BaD enough without broken bones and blood. We would both give a decent job at that.

Fuck this. It will be jail. She cares, but everything is about her. Sometimes the world is not all about you. Hate to burst your lovely little 20year old haze of bubble.

She is lovely.

Yet I need her out my life right now.

Condemning myself to knowing no one in the area and financial and vehicle stress is not a nice thing.

She’s my best mate

And my most dangerous addiction.

I have to make her Not My Problem.

Am sorry and sad. After such a brilliant 40 hours, her Mum came out when we drove up to make sure we didn’t fight. I love this little scrawny LEGS girl.

I tried. I moved from Wellington for less drama and for a good friend. Looks like failed on both.

For I went and stuck a needle in my arm. I was crying and confused by my young friend. I was angry. I had been to family court and they treat me like shit. She was there, looking stunning in her jeans that are more see through lace than jeans.

Fucked if I know why she is my friend.

Or was my friend. For I did not her in that capacity for a while. Now it’s really fucked.  Wish she would let me, or others, help. I care and we can compliment eachother. We can
complicate eachother.

.

Almost killing your lovely LEGS best mate and most trusted secret keeper is not the path I want to be on.

90Percent of her is great. 10Percent leads me to smoking, needles and jail.

Can’t risk it any more. I loved some of the times together, and care for her and her problems more than she will allow me to help with.

She opens up to me like no one else, she claims.

But this old ugly man is closing the doors and locking them.

She has to be let go. But I am the one taking the fall. Sad. But house is rented to me. She has heaps of friends and family here. She should be fine.

Sent my only friend a message saying we can only spend five minutes a time with eachother and asked why she decided to care and look after and be my most trusted friend.

Got no reply.

Really sad, and not like me  but
NOT MY PROBLEM

I gotta stay out of jail, rescue some financial crisis and stay off drugs

I understand her past. She has good reason to be the way she is.

But can only grab what is in front of you by dropping whats in your hands…

Love you Legsies, good luck. Wish my friend will come back someday.

Aroha Nui girl…..

Time for this old worn out acne prone cripple to find some new friends.

But, no doubt, they will all be screwballs too

Outside the Realm of the Hungry Ghosts

Gabor Matè had some good advice to hand me when deciding giving up drugs was do-able and realising my ADHD issues where problematic.

He told me to read his books. This, of course, required me to purchase them. Upon reading, and having some eureka moments along the way, I have forever been bestowing the virtues of this man and his work. Subsequently he told me that “they” (yes, you – Wellington Addict DisServices and other backward thinking service providers) could not be pushed into reading his work, they would have to find it for themselves. I have been pushing them ever since. There are many examples of this working. People have been purchasing and reading this work of his. Gabor then suggested to me that “I should probably pay you a commission, but won’t…”

It is not for my gratification that I write his name repeatedly. It is to re-inforce the work he does, one more time. Although being a broke bum with no hope of real worthy capitalist employ, the meagre offerings of book sales commission from an old Jewish Addiction Doctor from Canada does hold little appeal.

One of the first thoughts around a little of his work is to be found here — CANCER IS NOT ADDICTION 

Like most of my work, this is basically sans editing. There is little proof reading and even less effort into producing a document the masses could be bothered with. However, this writing, and others, received some praise from people wanting to link to it, or publish it, if only I would re-write it… Do a spelling check… Not swear quite so much… Withdraw any possible sexual innuendo… And make more sense… Hell, did they really expect proper APA referencing?… PISS OFF, NO FUCKEN WAY. However, there were some subsequent messages from some people who take this sort of thing seriously… One comment of “hey look — this guy [doctor Bob from USA] has been reading your blog… [link]…” I should do some of these guys for plagarism. Or, at least, being on such a similar wavelength they are jamming my brain waves from producing more interesting thought process. 

GABOR talked of his addiction of compulsively buying classical music from shoppes and avoiding the issue of time, finance and the overwhelming desire of his wife to find storage space anywhere in his cluttered shrine to classical music that his wife would prefer to call a house.

GABOR went to Narcotics Anonymous meetings and displaced the “Narcotics” for his “Classical Shopping” problematic addiction.

It seemed to make some sense. Other N.A members commented that his problem and him “were in the right place”.

I have issues with right” place. Maybe “correct” place. Should fit better. Really… RIGHT and WRONG are incorrect terms… 

Which brings us, finally, to the point of this post.

addiction_tattoos_big

http://substanceforyou.com/addictions-and-compulsions-not-know-about/ 

^^^ This is the point. An article on other addictions. ^^^

My latest addiction is, most definitely, a thing of major problematic variety and appears very similar to the much maligned “Death By Duvet”.

Have not filled out paperwork under New Zealand’s Official Information of Privacy Acts to demand information from the Police and other agencies in regards to their seemingly unlawful actions.

This latest addiction could just kill me. 

Have started avoiding emails… People whom were helping me have not heard from me for a week. I feel I am letting them down. I know I am letting myself down. And yet the news show at 6:30pm – 3D #3D_TV3 – got me writing on the computer again. This 41 minutes has been good for me. But am more interested in going to bed and watching pirated MP4’s of BANSHEE and real life advert laden TV3’s WESTSIDE at 8:30. Having hacked in four thousand words last weekend discussing the dangers of home release bail compared to prison (and spent hours editing – for once the subject and writing was worthy of real effort) only to have the computer crash, I have been having very severe anti feelings to all things computer. And all things life in general to be fair.

banshee_crap

On Friday I watched SEVEN complete films, including WATERWORLD (which I quite enjoyed). This, very similar to computer game addiction, is probably very much in line with becoming dangerously and problematically depressed.

I need help. Admitting there is a problem could be the first step. The second may well be getting out of this bloody cell I am imprisoned within – me.

Unfortunately this is outside the REALM OF THE HUNGRY GHOSTS. paulAnd probably more in line with PAUL WOOD. He may just have something newsworthy to say on this… Although, this is becoming a shameless product placement, I don’t care. For PAUL was an inspiration to me in jail. Similar ages, and he held his head up against all odds during his trial and back in jail. See, I was there…

I feel the need to switch off for a few months. Being stuck at home 24 / 7 when you live alone and run out of milk is NO FUN. Not being able to see your kid is NO FUN.

Using heaps of drugs, switching off and being able to “hang in there” is less NO FUN.

My happiness deficit will diminish with the use of drugs. 

(So may the chances of me finding a life diminish equally in proportion to this drug intake)

Recently I have been in jail

I have been in jail for a short while, true.

Would love to have enough energy for the bother of converting the badly hand written dairy entries into something worthy of posting on this, the worlds shittest blog.

No energy can be spared. As I type this nearing 1am, the one eye is shut. The other thinks it saw a mouse scurry around the skirting. It may have. It may not have. There is little food in the house, so if  there was a mouse, who cares? There are large stabs from the dull knife of mental pain.

The brain does not differentiate from physical pain and mental pain awfully well. Thankfully there is more than enough of both that the borders between the two are blurred. More than blurred – the effect where the cold southern ocean and the warm waters from equatorial pacific conjoin in a lovers embrace more sums up my existence within my 182cm, 81kg frame.

Jail is full of characters. Some very intelligent people whom are waiting trail for murdering some idiot.

One guy whom represented his country at war (a few steps above FIFA under twenty ALL WHITES for commitment) has a bullet wound or two. His two mates got killed each side of him. He was found unconscious by an American patrol. He had pulled his side arm and killed two people whom were intent on finishing him off. He came home to good old John Key’s New Zealand and ACC was too hard to deal with. WINZ weren’t helpful once he was out of hospital. His Dad died. His shot leg and head injuries cause a bit of issue. The shrapnel thrown off by the grenade that cost one friend the entire left side of his brain, skull and upper torso is throughout his body. He is in jail for robbing TV’s, stereos and jewellery from richer people than he. Some of them probably know John Key. Some of them definitely would know (or were) Military brass types. 

I have the book rights. Thankfully for the world when you leave me in a cell with two or three people for an hour they will talk to me about PTSD, ADHD, DYSLEXIA, PSYCHOPATHY and, arguably, worse than the whole lot – ISSUES WITH THE MISSUS AND KIDS.

Addiction, mental health, bad luck….. To study inmates and their issues you really need to be an inmate. I have crazy stupid tattoo’s. I have few teeth. I have just enough intelligence to keep up with the clever and encourage the not quite so. Just like running the Mental Health unit Narcotics Anonymous meeting, I can not only empathise, but identify with these people and their plights.

There are some real stories there. Stories your average reporter would not find. Links between being locked up and your ex partner seeing you with a hotter young lady are obvious. But when you have been split up for ten years the Courts will laugh it this. I believe it. For I have had one or two myself.

deadbeat

 

After spending six weeks in jail throughout May and early June, I am sorry to report staggering examples of Police ruining peoples chances at life by spreading information unlawfully.

It could be considered worse than unlawful, for it is criminal.

 
 
 
 
FRIDAY, APRIL 10th.

 
After being told there was “no warrant to arrest” on a charge in the District Court I went home with my 11 year old daughter. 
 
One hour later the police arrived, arrested me in front of my daughter and told me that we would be half an hour whilst they filled out paperwork. I left daughter with a friend. As soon as I was in their car they told me I would be there overnight as the court had shut for the day although it was 1pm….
 
Against my express wishes they rung my daughters mother and told her all about me being in trouble and being arrested. I specifically told them that they had no right to tell someone else about my arrest and that my daughter had her own phone, knew how to contact her mother, grandma and other people.
 
They went on to furnish their story stating that I had left my child in the care of someone they considered untrustworthy. My daughter has stayed with these people before, and has slept overnight there with the couples daughter whom is only a month or two older.
 
The mother of my daughter picked our daughter up at 8pm, which shows she was unconcerned about any threat to our child. 
 
The police also tried to ring her new partner at work and tell him about it. Although he has never met me properly and has no say in the day to day care of myself our my child, the Police exaggerated the circumstances and generally made the situation into something it should not be. 
 
I was released the next morning about 10am and the mother of my daughter was obviously not in the least happy.
 
 
 
TUESDAY, APRIL 28th.
 
For the first time ever my kids Mum and her partner came to football training. I am the football team coach, and have been for two years with three different teams. 
 
My child’s mother took our daughter early and was perceived to be looking for trouble by other parents. Subsequently to this, the mother of my daughter punched me five times in front of many witnesses.
I carried on playing football with the children and tried to handle the situation. Her new partner rung police after he pushed me and had decided that I was assaulting his new partner. She stands at the side of the field and shouts abuse, including that I am a paedophile and should not be allowed around children. 
 
 

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 29th

 
I presented at Wellington Central Police station to tell them about the mother of my daughter hitting me five times in front of the child’s football team and parents at football training. Officer {**18} told me directly that “you (I) are full of shit and that matter has already been dealt with“. 
 
I recorded the conversation from that point on. The matter already “being dealt with” was basically them trying to find a way to stuff me with something. The facts are that I was assaulted by two people in front of fifteen children and many parents during our football team training.
 
 
 
FRIDAY, MAY 1st


Police came to my house in some numbers and charged me with assault by way of issuing a paperwork summons to appear in court. Why they needed so many officers and why they acted so aggressively is obvious – They were trying to get me angry and acting badly so there would be a proper excuse for another arrest and charge – resisting, disorderly behaviours or similar. 

After being charged with assault they rang the football club I was coaching for and told them that under no circumstances should I be allowed to coach football. I do not know what is being said, by whom. I do know that the football club is run by two ex Navy accountant types whom are probably good friends with the higher up Police… Maybe they all sit down at the Wellesley together and discuss issues. Maybe I was worthy of thirty seconds of their time as they nudge nudged and guffawed…

 
EMAIL FROM “L”TO ME, 3rd June 2015…
 
“””Dear NZFIEND
I am writing to you with regard to your role as a volunteer coach for the Grade 11 _________________ AFC.
In my role as Chairman of the club I have received communications from Capital Football and the NZ Police that I am now burdened with acting upon. The advice I have received is that the club should not employ you in a volunteer role as a junior coach. While I am not in receipt of detail as to specific circumstances it is incumbent upon me to heed this advice because regardless of any possible militating factors the club cannot take any risk in regard to the way it manages pastoral care for junior members through volunteers.
As a result it is with regret that I must now let you know that your volunteer coaching role must end, effective immediately. I understand that the coaching you have carried out for the club has been enjoyed by the children in the teams with which you have been associated, and I thank you for the contribution you have made.
Regards
LS – CEO of the AFC“””
 
 

I have asked three times in writing for information regarding WHO rung the club and WHAT was said, but have not even received an acknowledgement of my request. I guess this is what you should expect from a bunch of high ranking military people and police.

If I am accused of being a paedophile or a danger to children, I WANT TO KNOW! I now have to use official information act and / or privacy act requests to find out what is being said, and whom is saying it.

Louis appears to have secret discussions with police…At the time of my ex partner getting ME arrested for assault, I sent her some text messages and commented on some of her Facebook photos with what I thought of her partner pushing me, trying to get me to fight him, and then ringing police when I didn’t take the bait.

 
 
 
SATURDAY, MAY 2nd 
 
The police sent me texts and phone calls saying they want to speak to me at odd hours like 6am. I replied by text and voice call to a voicemail asking them why they wished to see me again. Also, quite clearly, I asked if it was urgent and what they wanted. They said “come in and see us urgently” but would not explain why. I declined to take up their nice offer as I had a football team to run and was due in Porirua at 8.30am. Last time they told me I would only be an hour “at the most” I was kept overnight and my daughter is now very perturbed when she see’s police. My daughter also jumps when there is a knock on the door and is worried the Police are coming to take Dad away. Anyway – Our team played well and we got a 3-3 draw. The best result the team has had, ever.
 
 
 
MONDAY, MAY 4th
 
Police have been coming to my house every few hours throughout the weekend and the neighbours have been interviewed and are getting annoyed by Police waking them up by kicking on my door. I have been elsewhere. Being happy and entertaining.
 
At approximately 8pm I am walking home and see a Police car drive past me a few times and park half a block from my house. I got the shop, buy some things and walk out as the car drives off again
 

At 9pm I received a text from a member of the football club saying that my daughter will not be part of the team any further as her Mum is taking her out of the team and not allowing me to see her. I send a text to my childs Mum…

4 May 21:31
Idiot.
Let ***** [our daughter] play football, she loves it.
About time you started doing what was right for the whole family we have, not just yourself.
You need to talk, but you ran across a field screaming like a stupid crazed animal and punched me 6 times.
You are stupidly carrying on [like] this.
 – direct copy of txt from cellphone
 

The neighbours come out to tell me the Police were there again. At approximately 9:35 pm I am talking to a lady police officer on the telephone whom says “MAN UP AND FACE THE CHARGES.” What charges? What are you on about? “BREACH OF PROTECTION ORDERS”

TUESDAY, MAY 5th


So, in the Police station, we have a video interview at 1am. I have been awake quite a lot with worry about the situation with my child and also have spent a couple of nights in others beds, so I am worn out and very tired. 
 
It comes as a surprise when I am kept in a court cell for the whole morning waiting for my appearance. I stand in the dock and find the Police are objecting to bail and want me in custody. I have not properly at all (the police have no pillows and since my clothing had string in it around the hood of the “hoody” top, they had removed those – it was cold, there is no bedding other than a cover that extends from feet to belly button. I was due to be at football training at 3:30pm and that is something to b taken very seriously. Letting down a bunch of kids – some of whom come straight from school so would be their unsupervised – by having their coach abandon them is a bloody serious thing.
 
The “Public Defendants Office” Lawyer told me that there is no way I could bail today and that “in these situations we keep you in for three or four days and let things cool off and then you will get bail on Friday.” She repeated this later with “Tony, we simply have you on a cool off period for a few days and then you will be bailed. Just do not apply for bail today.” I was charged with 5 BREACH OF PROTECTION ORDERS for sending some five text messages after she punched me repeatedly with children (including our own child) watching. The protection order has been in place 13 years. If I had so much as raised my voice at this person during 13 years I would have been charged with a breach already, yet Police claim in court I have been threatening and abusing and repeatedly and consistently disrupting the lives of my daughter and her mothers new family. One of these offences is the above text message, which is claimed to be ranting, abusive and threatening.
 
I told her I did not want her “legal” advice and represented myself. Bail was denied, even though the judge made many errors including deciding that I had committed “male assaults female” against the mother of my daughter last year. I have never, once, assaulted the mother of my daughter. Full stop.


The Police have lied the whole way through in order to keep me in jail. I was going to write exaggerated, as there are plenty of examples of that. But actual lies sum it up better…

The Police state that I knew they were searching for me, that I was actively running from them and they had to catch me. They state, in court documents, that I was actively hiding and taunting Police. I was, according to them, abusive to officers and was showing off that they could not catch me.. However, I had rung police every single day for four days and they would not tell me why they wanted me. I have told them about being assaulted and I thought that they may be serving me with Family Court papers. They finally told me what they wanted (breach of protection order for texting) and I told them to come and pick me up. In the end I had to jump out in front of the car and flag it down as they were driving straight past me. Yet the judge heard I was “evading and taunting police”.

I have recorded all these telephone conversations with Police and kept all text records.

 
I was sent to Rimutaka prison with a new court date for Friday 8th.
 
 
 
FRIDAY, MAY8th
I had stolen a black ballpoint pen and got a nice guard to give me a bit of paper from one of the computer printers and drew a picture. It shows my hand and my demons being pulled out of the mire by my daughters hand. Although, you can turn the picture upside down and see that me and my past demons and lifestyle are trying to help her out of some pain and difficulties. Call it a mental health exercise…
P119
 


After spending all day in a small cell out the back of Court1, Wellington District Court, I finally appeared at around 4pm. The Police were serious on keeping me in custody. The lawyer, KEITH JEFFERIES, proved to be the worst lawyer I have ever met. He did not come to see me with regards to the matter even though Police had given me new paperwork and what have you. He therefore stood up and even the Police prosecutor said “Keith is probably not aware, but here is the latest stuff….”
I tried to enter a GUILTY PLEA to sending text messages so that they would have no further reason to hold me in custody.
 
The Judge said that I needed time to consult and instruct a real lawyer and remanded me in Custody until JUNE 25th for this to happen.
 
About this point in time I realised my football coaching was over and that there was little hope of being a proper father to my child for a long time. My rent and bills were starting to worry me and I stood to lose my flat, its contents and my car parked in the off street parking that comes with the rental. 
 
 
 
TUESDAY, JUNE 11th
 
Other inmates told me I should go for “e-bail” and I had filled the paperwork out. 
 

The Police opposed my release from jail (even though I am 24/7 on ankle bracelet locked in my flat) as they claim the victims are so scared. These are the same people whom attacked me in the first instance. There was no fear shown there.

The Police also opposed my release on the grounds I would destroy cell phone evidence. Vodafone, 2Degrees and Spark could all track the texts if they were asked. Also, the texts would still be on the phone I sent them to. The Police wanted me to hand them my phone. I need my phone for evidence. It has recordings of the Police lying to me. It has recordings of the mother of my daughter screaming at me telling me I would never see my daughter again. She claims I would ring her and be threatening, ranting, screaming and abusive. These calls are all recorded and I have told the Police this. They constantly tell the Court that I am a threat to the safety of others based on the “facts” that I am so abusive and threatening on the phone and texts.
 
I was led into court room 1 (directly from the back of a Corrections Department prisoner transport van) just as the Judge was reading out conditions of my release. They include 24/7 home detention. My lawyer had rung or talked to me, as he had promised, and had therefore not put forward the fact I live by myself in a housing block. He had not put forward the best case for my release at all and had not read the file, nor the handwritten notes I had sent regarding the perceived threat and safety of the text message victims. There is no provision in my bail for me to leave the house to get shopping. If I leave the house I will go straight back to Rimutaka jail. To go to doctors, hospital or other appointments I need 24 notice. I am wearing a GPS ankle bracelet.
 
At least I still have a house. There was paperwork taking me to the tenancy tribunal over unpaid rent, but that is now okay. I am not allowed to the carpark where my car is in order to clean it out or move it as it has been sitting across two car parks since my arrest.
 
I needed to get out of jail as I have hand written fifty pages of rebuttal of allegations submitted to the Family Court which removes my parenting order and denies me all contact with my 11 year old daughter. I need to type these up, collect evidence from my phone (including all texts and voice recordings) and convince the Corrections Electronic Monitor Bail “TEAM” that I need to go into town, print out court paperwork, find a J.P or someone who can witness and sign the stuff, and then present it all to the court in Balance St. 
 
The Police would not lay charges against the lady whom stabbed my tyres and destroyed my car as “she said she was elsewhere” even though three neighbours provided excellent descriptions of her and her friend. The Police showed up with a page of photos of girls, all of whom was so similar to the offender that none of the witnesses could positively I.D them. The Police have denied my requests to view and copy the I.D parade they provided. I doubt  it even had a photo of the real offenders on it. So, they tell me their case “does not reach evidential standard” on a number of issues.
…..

Until all of this happened I was seeing my daughter, was being as good father as I was allowed to be. We had a Family Court Order that intended we work together and move forward by ourselves after ten years of bickering. It had taken me a year and a half to go from every second weekend with my daughter to having Tuesday nights as well as every second weekend. Whenever the mother of daughter felt like it, she would take away this Tuesday night as “I only gave it as a good will gesture”. What effect does this have on our daughter? What effect does all of this have on me?

 

DEAD BEAT DAD’s have something going for them…

They get to keep a tenuous link to reality.  

Even if they are in Australia,
not seeing their children
&
hiding from the NZ tax man.

Talking publicly may help. Other ways probably not so much…

Mr. Boulware was also involved in a custody battle with his mother over his 11-year-old son. A hearing was held last Monday. Ms. Hammond said in court documents that in the fall of 2012, Mr. Boulware “talked obsessively” about the mass shootings at the movie theater in Aurora, Colo., and at the elementary school in Newtown, Conn. “He claimed,” she wrote in court papers, “he had known about them beforehand because he had dreamed about them.” She also stated that he bought two new guns in 2013 and “began talking about getting rid of people he didn’t like.” NEW YORK TIMES <- click here….


That bloody mouse was real. Has taken twenty five minutes for my cloudy head to compile this post… The mouse, I feel, is laughing at me. Having sauntered across the side of my vision heading into my bedroom, it has had it’s fill of whatever mouse culinary delights abound within and jogged back, converting whatever protein it found into pure lean muscle mouse.

penfold

STILL IN JAIL. And Family Court has taken my child away again. ANGRY BIRD

Still in jail.

Got served paperwork from family court saying all access to daughter has been removed and there is a hearing today, 5th June.

legal beagle

The papers state they were to be served NO LATER than the 15th MAY and that the court required proper filings by way of lawyers and legal beagle five working days before this hearing.

Given that it was a long weekend due to the most honourable Queen having her bloody birthday knees up, this means that the papers (via legal beagle) had to be there LAST WEEK. The Corrections Department is not known for letting people out of jail to get their witnesses and supporting documents from electronic devices (such as my phone and computer!) Hell— I dislocated my shoulder in late may and was told the doctor would see me next week. Really. Hahahahah. Rolls eyes at that one.

The Family Court Hearing is on Friday 5th June as ordered by the DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE, DISTRICT COURT BUILDING, BALANCE STREET, WELLINGTON, NEW ZEALAND.

Have been in custody since 5th of May as ordered by the DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE, DISTRICT COURT BUILDING, BALANCE STREET, WELLINGTON, NEW ZEALAND. but they could not find me to serve notice for four weeks and then broke their own laws in the process.

MY HEAD HURTS.

I would be a good Father if only I were allowed!

ORIGINALLY POSTED for NZFIEND by his coffee mate :-\ as he WAS IN JAIL AT TIME OF