NZ activist award to NZ Govt torture program victim

No award for being an ex junkie suck, but knowing Sue Grey and being arrested for being a terrorist in NZ as I was thought to be pulling 1080 foot use in terror activities….. gives my lack of award a certain shine

Rangitikei Environmental Health Watch

Thank you for exposing this sadistic man and standing up for truth Paul Zentveld. Shame on the NZ government. EWR

nigels award 2The prestigious Leveling The Playing Field awards, an annual award open for New Zealanders speaking out against human rights, corruption and environmental harm has presented it’s second award for the 2020 season to Paul Zentveld for his work in exposing the Lake Alice torture program.

Paul Zentveld took the complaint to the United Nations Committee on Torture after the NZ government sought to ignore complaints. In fact, the NZ Medical Council assisted the torturer-in-charge to flee New Zealand with a clean record to where he now resides in Melbourne, Dr Selwyn Leeks.

The United Nations have condemned the NZ Government for their failure to take action. The torture involved physical and sexual abuse of an extreme nature including use of ECT, electro-shock to parts of the body including genitals on…

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Email to my doctor…

A script for twenty tramadol? Omg. Never mind, please write out a million of those lousy pathetic pain killers, stat!

Other than that… check this little stalkerbook post out I wrote last night…

Today I sat down with my partner (yes, same lady  – six months now) at a kind of couples therapy thing…. I have just got a counselor for non ADHD things… And he put some stuff on a whiteboard… Which was very interesting and worth remembering… Then he continued on, and although I wanted to interrupt, I also didn’t want to… There was a lot more interesting stuff…

And then I had to interrupt as I had tears in my eyes. For the first time ever, in my whole life, I had REALLY wanted to remember and pay attention to something but I was incapable of recalling the first eureka moment I had had just a few minutes ago. Of course I was trying so hard to recall it, then got so overwhelmed, that the other bits I was sure to remember also disappeared into the ADHD void.

My partner saw me with tears approaching after I blurted out “sorry counselor guy, but I got to stop you, for the first time in my life Im fuckieen upset with myself for not being able to remember something that I really wanted to…

My partner held my hand and I saw her with a few tears also… Things are emotional, sure. But this was truly something else.

It might be normal for some people to get that support. But that is, unsurprisingly, another life first for me. 

Those little moments outweigh all the garbage and problems we have.
At least in my opinion.

Growth today. 
Fingers crossed it has not withered tomorrow.

It’s the Little things

Quite literally on this occasion.

Missing. Presumed dead. LITTLE MAN feline rescue #26, or thereabouts, returned to the fold after a mammoth effort involving breaking bail in order to rescue him again…

And… Nine of these things taking flight this very morning.

Whenever I struggle I find it food for the sole to remember the little things.

Seems the Little Thing remembers me too.


I think I may be in it. Love that is.


Currently bail conditions restrict me from seeing the lady concerned… So we break my conditions every time she comes… and crumbs, does we gets to cum… it’s a great thing, saved me from a lurking depression…


Only to find she has massive anxiety attacks that I can help with…


This is a huge thing for me …


Actual love. No screwing around… thinking more about her welfare than mine…  Running myself into the ground for her…


She says she’s in love.


But I show mine.



I love my cats, I hate my cats

A couple of years ago the run down State Housing Block I was living in was surrounded on all sides by, and standing the real risk of falling to, FERAL FELINE FURBABIES.

These damn wild cats multiply faster than you can imagine.

Me, being me…

All that empathy, to the point of identification… I saw hungry scavenging cats… I know what it is like to be hungry for a few weeks at a time – and what it is like to get a half decent meal once a day after that time.

Of course – me, being me – the horrid skinny ugly temperamental cats would get some meals! Especially the cute little kittens, whom I thought would stand a chance of getting to know hoomans and degenerating from their lofty status as king ferals to turn into lovable, fat, healthy house cats.

A few years pass, to the present day our story flies. With a montage of births, deaths, chasing images on computer screens, chasing tails, chasing tennis balls, catching tennis balls, throwing back tennis balls — wait? whaaaaaaaaaat? throwing back tennis balls? yes – actually properly throwing back tennis balls. okaaaaaaaay then –— combined with all the bites, scratches, punctures, bleeding, bruising and lost nails… Lost nails. Yes, lost nails. When one of these teethy buggers latches onto your arm like it is climbing a tree and uses its inner pit bull to bite your fingertip. You lose a nail. Simple really when you think about it.

Not having ever wanted cats, it is funny how I now have three ex-feral wild cats moving around with me, along with another three or four I feed outside each night. To be honest the shed roller door is left open six inches at the bottom. It has been this way for almost year. Despite freezing in the uninsulated and drafty shed this allows the outside crew to come in an clean up anything the “house cat team” don’t spot. It’s a good arrangement. For bending down and cleaning up spilt cat food can be daunting some days.


I love my cats…. They are a source of amusement. And pride. Yeah, I think maybe pride is the biggest feeling I have for these horrible things that were at deaths door. For they are all troopers in their own way. Has taken a year of keeping oine inside, but he finally lets me pat him and has even tried jumping on bed. So – PRIDE at how far they have come and amazement at their constant learning and progress sums up.

I hate my cats…

For I have not spent one single night away from this place since moving in almost a year ago.  No matter when I am in the country I get back every single night in order to feed, clean toilet trays and provide a human shaped pillow for them to curl up next to.

This arrangement works well.

For the cats.

For me it is starting to prove antisocial and possibly part of becoming depressed…

Actually being on a feline imposed 10pm-7am curfew. As though I am on police bail, or court imposed sanctions of some type.

For that I cannot hate the cats.

But I cannot hate myself. So, the cats get the blame. For now.

Lorde Battle Axe, just kicking it.

Lorde Battle Axe, just kicking it.

PAUL WOOD – How to escape from Prison

How to Escape from Prison by Doctor Paul Wood


Currently just purchased this and am reading it. Of course I am in contact with the author and correcting him on a few drug related things… That’s me for you, without doubt.

Of course he “thanks me” for reminding him of the night in jail he got found guilty.

Of course his life turned out better than mine……


To stop teenagers becoming drug addicts they need time with parents… Like, DUH…