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 ;
BUTTERFLIES vs NZLAW.
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
NZ LAW NIL
KELVIN COOPER GOT A RED CARD
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.
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.
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.
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
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
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.
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.
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 29th
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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 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.
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.
Waiting at Wellington Central #nzpolice for thirty minutes thus far. Am here to report an assault committed against me.
Unfortunately the mother of my daughter has decided to remove all access to my kid again. I should have had my kid last night. I would have been doing paper run with her.
But the mother has all the power and makes all the rules. She gives and takes as she likes.
Last night was great. An hour into football soccer training with ten kids aged ten or eleven, my daughters Mum and her partner (let us call him plank, or timber or some shit as he is a builder) went to take my daughter away early.
More in a minute, police here
Anyway, my door is always fucken open for you. I was only half joking when saying you could have daughters room when you needed it. And hell, if I could have got you moving at 9 in the morning for a few days, the creativity and positivity would have happened. But fuck me, whatever.
One of the kids in my new football team has full on AUTISM
HELL, am I a football coach or a kid mental health worker? –BOTH– Seem to be good enough at it. Just wish I could be more of a coach!
Stay in contact, or don’t. Catch up when you want, give some gas money and learn to drive your ass in style.
So, quite a bit going on. I am still really useless at controlling impulsive things when not given a little respect. The postie is on a motorbike and riding in a private property. He rides too fast and almost clipped my daughter. I tried talking to him, he didn’t want to know, basically called me an idiot, and tried to ride off, accelerating towards me. He was not concerned in the slightest with running into me, and showed no concern for my daughters safety. Instantly I reached out and slapped his full face motorcycle helmet as he reached me. He then took the helmet off and approached me. I ended up walking inside and having a shower after some neighbours tried telling him to back off.
At this point another neighbour started yelling that I was yelling at the kids. The kids now get upset as people are arguing about them. I did not yell at kids, but now they are crying. Fucksakes, now I am in trouble with a large local gang for abusing their five year olds! My life, do you want it? hahahaha
I go inside, have a shower and get out the shower to the sound of #nzpolice pigs trying to enter the front door.
For the first time in my life I do a VIDEO INTERVIEW at the Police station. No need for lawyer, no need for anything…
I am in pain. My poor old back is really ruining me this week. Taking Codeine, Tramadol, Gabapentin and Paracetamol on top of Ritalin.
DRUG FREE LIFE is, currently, not on the menu. Wish it was. It’s not.
When reading a book to my child last night as she went to sleep I felt like a real Dad. Woke her up, made breakfast, got her on the bus to school. All good healthy stuff.
Walk home and end up with arrest, cells, court and stress.
I am me. And that is not all bad.
It’s not all good either.
The drugs had not kicked in at 8.30am. Usually this time of the day sees old broken me trying to climb out of bed. Today I was up, walking home and sore.
The police told the postie not to come through this way.
I just wanted to tell him to slow down, as there are genuine safety concerns.
He ignored me and got a slap on the helmet to show him I was serious.
He rings police and now has been told NOT to take shortcut through property at all… Due to my policy of always going NOT GUILTY and taking everything the whole way through, witnesses and everything…. well…. he will have to come and waste a day in court too.
AM I STUPID?
The time in the cells told me I was in pain. Had a lot of pain killers and yet could not work out what to do with myself. Stand, sit, stretch, hunch, relax, tense. Nothing really escapes me from the confines of annoying pain.
If I slow down, I am stuffed. When poos and wee’s come out all on their own I get my sorry arse to hospital.
Presently, I am just stuffed. No other thing sums it up.
LIMBO between able and unable. Just hanging there. Have been dropping things, knocking things over, just been pretty useless. So much has been happening, but there is no energy left to bother. Have not even met my mate for coffee recently.
Am not right.
Am not left.
Am in central limbo.
Got let out of police station by the same police guys whom have dealt with me many times over the years, and the same guy whom did my prints and had a good old yarn with.
He’s not bad. Getting arrested just to have a chat about life and politics is stupid.
Need coffee. Head to the nearest coffee shoppe and buy a coffee with a bunch of young ladies looking at me carefully, for their usual customer is not me. It is the city business crowd. They show signs of recognition even though only going there three or four times a year…. I am not being narcissistic, merely observant. And that is another story…