Jails – Full of violence, apparently… Drugs and Violence. Win win.

The media is talking a lot of the violence and problems in New Zealands “correctional facilities” (jails, for fucksakes people) as of late.

As per usual for this rather mundane but somewhat overbearing co-incidence ridden life of mine,  feeling as though commenting on this subject is okay is unsurprising. Having just been in jail, and still sitting at home 24/7 on Electronic Monitored Bail (EM- CUSTODY is more to the point – all I am doing is saving bed space and moving money from the corrections service into social welfare and capitalist supermarket tills)….

I prefer the yards where you play a little rough games, like rugby or “hold” football or “bullrush” style games. The yards here are quite small, surrounded by cages that take skin off and are entirely concrete. The games can be a bit rough, I got a decent black eye and gravel rash (stupid name, considering it was caused by metal grille and concrete…… anyhoooooo) and others came off worse.

But these yards are the ones where a bunch of males can go out and smash into eachother and this, for any number of reasons that female politicians will scorn down at from their lace encrusted high horses, makes perfect sense.

Nigel Latta or Paul Wood may provide better insight, for they have real letters after their names qualifying them to do so.

Me, not qualified at all. Call me an expert by experience (TM used without license, no mental health worker was harmed in the production of this writing).

Call me whatever you like. Fuck-Wit is common.

But — You cannot, and probably SHOULD NOT, stamp out violence or drugs in jail.

Violence and Drugs. Win win.

A little violence helps sort out some minor squabble. And drugs keeps everyone calm and lazy.

Don’t think this idea will get much traction politically.

Perhaps it may get a little more attention if we add sex to the mix. I know of a couple of mistress types who may just jump at the chance…… Some of the guards already know them too….

article from  stuff.co.nz here
video of staff being bashed (looks like HM4, Wellington Regional Prison – Rimutaka Correctional Facility)
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The note that cheered me up…

Received this note randomly in my inbox. Never chatted before, bit similarities abound.
THANKS.

Published with his support…

I know the feeling of not being able to open certain web pages out of sheer, squirming anxiety. This was appropriate when I was on home detention/probation for 12/6 months respectively for buyin’ the durgs off the ‘net, and I wasn’t allowed shit that could speak hypertext.

Don’t feel obligated to reply, I’m just writing in support. Channel your energies into whatever gets you through.  I started cooking really nice food spent well over 600 hours playing open-world games on Xbox.  I remember I made a stollen with a log of marzipan through the middle.  Holy fuck, it was good.

Got close to this state again looking after my girlfriend’s place out in the wops while they were in England.  I mean it was beautiful out there but I don’t have a driver’s license or a car.  What drove me nuts about it was being fucken spied on by the neighbours.  I had my mate around and I get a call from England saying that my brother (!) isn’t allowed at the house (he’s perceived as a dodgy cunt, long past the days of his legal high habit).  My mate going around the side of the house in the dark to look for his $1500 camera that had been stolen and fucken chewed up by one of the dogs was perceived as skullduggery at its finest.  So two nights in I’m made aware I’m being spied on and told that I’m not allowed any company.

This, of course, was reason for me to increase my intake of illicit clonazepam to deal with the craziness.  Every coffee, Irish.  Goes without saying that I smoked dak in/around the place from the start, then after about a month, I forget that thank-fuck-she’s-not-going-to-be-my-mother-in-law‘s separated, depressed lackey husband is coming over and the heartiest bong you ever saw made out of a gatorade bottle, a hose and a brass door peeper hole thing is sitting right there on the floor.

Later that night, my parents get a call from thank-fuck saying to get me the fuck out.  Cuuuuuuuuuuuuunt, I even offered the guy a sesh and dinner before he snitched on me.

After I left the place, the more responsible neighbours were given my duties and they proceeded to lose one of the cats and dehydrate one of the chickens to death.  I’d be lying if I said this doesn’t still make me grin with HA HA SERVES YOU RIGHT.  I really love animals but in this case they are true martyrs for our crusade against being stigmatised.  Rightly perceiving awkward future encounters between myself and her family, my girlfriend of four years broke up with me soon after she got back from England.  Ah well.

Off the clonazepam now anyways.  Back to study next semester chipping away at the old maths degree.  Taking a 3rd-year English paper entitled Literary Theory which I’m looking forward to.  English papers tend to have no prerequisites, although I did a 2nd-year one on Comedy which was a lot of fun.  When I was on home detention they ended up letting me go to university 5 days a week but I had to sign in/out with campus security every morning and night which actually built a nice relationship with them.  Took a while to suss this but it was a great hack.  I got to travel 26km away to Hamilton by bus every day.  Had to sort out exactly what buses I was taking and give them the bus tickets.

I realise sometimes, fuck, at least I’m not my mate who’s homeless from a marijuana (!!!) habit, combined with what the Powers That B should call ‘unipolar mania’ and everybody else calls ‘bipolar’.  The pigs are now after him now, because of klepto shit that’s a pretty natural consequence of his circumstances.  My other mate was telling me about last time he saw the guy, smoking a whole-tinny joint while publicly taking a piss in a stranger’s yard and hacking out phlegm all over his clothes.  The dude has nobody.  I would be there from him but that day, he racked CDs from my mate’s car, and these two have known each other for over 7 years now.  Then later on, he tried to cause bullshit drama between another of my friends and I.  Can’t be dealing with any more mindfuck at the moment.

Make sure you enjoy something in spite of these fucking control systems.

Peace, so-and-so…

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)

Board Shitless

Stuck at home, ankle bracelet attached, house a mess, bored. Some people come to visit… Which is awesome. Without them would have no food or happiness… But some random girl at 8am in the morning demanding breakfast and coffee when you’re asleep in bed?

Note to self – Start remembering to shut the front door…

Family Court papers need to be done, but have issues with that too . It is so upsetting that taking a million valium and sleeping until my kid is sixteen is a consideration. Right now it is my football teams training. And this… Well… What the hell…

tears_smiles

Cannot go to the court in order to get their new requirements for submitting affidavits and the like. My criminal lawyer has all the paper as he used part of it to help get bail. I have to learn to put my foot down. Have two days to file 100 pages and don’t even have the documents that I am supposed to be replying to.

Have finally got appointment to get a Winz benefit... Having no income at all for 7 weeks before this happens is not good.

And then the 0800 EMBail “team” did not answer the Winz ladies telephone advances, so have not been able to confirm any of this. The Electronic Monitoring Bail requires all appointments to be confirmed and approved with days notice.

You know what… ?
(You don’t know what…)
almost guarantee it…

Being a druggy and having no life outside of drugs seems quite attractive just now. You may not deal with life on life’s terms, but at least you’re numb to all the pain.

I am lying in bed, pretty close to throwing in the towel.

Am used to confining myself to this flat to avoid trouble. Now it appears being confined here could result in worse.

Wonder if my old Spiritual Advisor (TM) is still talking to me?

image

Life is a shambles. 

With, or without, the gear.

All these little moods, depression and feelings of being worthless will pass.

The shambles may not.

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

HANDED MYSELF INTO POLICE TUESDAY MAY 5th and WENT TO JAIL

My cell at top rightMy cell at top right, although in High Medium pod 6 – pod 2 pictured, identical colours and layout.

Old mate from coffee shoppe logging in to say NZfiend is incarcerated so is sorry to have not kept some promises as of late and will hopefully  be released  at another  court  hearing  late June. He says  the food  is okay, but  is  still  78kg and  likes the twinkle in eye of some  female  wardens.”

Make whatever you want of that comment…….

…. an awesome morning with the football …

Had an awesome morning with the football team Saturday.

Car had broken clutch cable and tried to borrow two others. Long story was that they both died right outside their owners houses….

So, I RODE MY BLOODY MOUNTAIN BIKE TO PORIRUA FROM WELLINGTON. That is a fair hilke, so I cheated. A bag of footballs, a bag with boots, tops and gear…. And a mountain bike. 21km with a few uphills in the middle. Uhm – At 7am saturday morning with my dodgy spine? Not likely. So – TRAIN to Porirua from Wellington… Bike up hill… And…

FIRST ONE THERE.

2015_5_2_field

Beauty morning for it. Just after 8pm and the artificial turf out the back of the old forensic unit at the mental hospital looked stunning. Nothing like the problems the area was known for twenty years previously.

The kids started turning up, and I admit to being a little nervous after the events of the last week with the mother of my daughter proving beyond all reasonable doubt that she is a vindictive idiot and not actually even interested in paying lip service to her daughter spending time with her dad any longer. GROAN.

So, the kids were arriving, the parents were supportive, and I just got on with it. Rubbed one of the other coaches up the wrong way, but by relinquishing the role of “referee” they allowed me to break the rules and spend time on the field helping out my wayward team. The autistic, adhd, deaf and blind people lead by this one eye’d ginga did pretty well. Running around on the field and coaching whilst the game is underway should be allowed at this level. The kids really started working well with it…

One kid is great at being goalie, but I like seeing him out the field too. Hell, it was a great morning. My daughter was there complaining she was injured and attempting to play at half speed. This got her little sympathy, she is quite capable of playing. I know her better than people realise. She listened and ran. She listened and passed. She won player of the day.

Apart from her Mum had told the people whom gave her a lift to the game that I was going to steal her so they were not to let her travel or stay with me. Stupid, but that’s that. After 11 years of this crap, my daughters PLAYER OF THE DAY award was given to a girl who played right back as she had improved so much from the week previous.

Somewhat taken aback, the centre forward who scored all our goals looked annoyed. He will win it, bit today he didn’t listen to the coach and we could have won 4-3 if he had passed the ball on the inside to my daughter instead of trying to run through another three defenders all by himself.


DEMLEGS award for the player who ran to places to support her mates went to a young girl who plays left back. Really brilliantly. She listens, unlike most of the guys… She sprinted back on defence and cut some players down…

The award "DEM LEGS" is in honour of someone whom inspired me to believe in good people again. Thanks DEM LEGS.

The award “DEM LEGS” is in honour of someone whom inspired me to believe in good people again. Thanks DEM LEGS.

After the awards were handed out one of the kids Dads decided to ask if he could say something. “Of course”, I nodded at him. It was the centre forwards Dad… An nice American chap of very very very high esteem in the Wellington political arena….

“I, and all the other parents and supporters, have seen you improve EVERY SINGLE GAME and do you know why that is?”

Sensing impending embarrassment there is a prompt interruption from my good mouth – “Yes, it is due to spending MORE TIME TOGETHER as a team…” wink wink, nudge nudge…

“I, uhm, yes, quite correct. Uhm. Other than that, we really have to cheer your coach, NZFiend….”

Oh crap. Knew that was coming. A couple of Mums and Dads come up and ask quietly if I am okay and what is going on after the dramas during the week with my daughter being taken away and her mother and step dad punching me in front of the team…. I just say “it will be all right… It has to be…” and they nod, not fully believing…

WE DREW 3 – 3

Which, after 8-3 and 6-0 losses is very exciting!!!!

Happy times.


So, the sun is up, the kids have gone and there is another game being played. The same age group, but these kids train four times a week as part of an academy. And boy does it show.

These eleven year olds are playing better looking footy than the Phoenix. But, even then, the left winger listens to my advice and runs when suggested. He does a lot better and looks over to see if I have noticed. I wink and walk off.

He’ll probably never see me again.

But I will remember that little red head with the bullet left foot from the Tawa area. He may just go places with the right coaching and staying in school.


As for me? Feels like the only places I am capable of going are court or jail.

Football training tomorrow night. Really doubt my daughter will be there. Sadly I have no life at all outside of my daughter and football. Something which the vindictive are trying their best to take away.

Police, kids Mum and Family Court vs Me and my belief that I am capable of good.

Guess I’m fucked. Nothing better to do with my whole weekend than ride the whole way back to Wellington.

Which I did.

And now my spine is telling me off for it.

Tomorrow will put a new clutch cable in car. And not go anywhere near my kids Mums house.