Naloxone hydrochloride gets a drug charge in NZ

Stupidly, given the position I was in years ago of using and living with heavy opiate fiends, NZ police found a vial of narcaine or narcan and charged me with possession of a controlled drug.

Given the fact others had over dosed in the house, including me, this drug possession could have saved lives.

In fact, a few did die of over dose. The police then took great delight in locking people up under the guise of manslaughter convictions.

Meanwhile, my life saving collection of drugs was destroyed and I was charged under misuse of drugs act.

Actively narcissistic behavior by New Zealand Police and the Prosecution service, which happens to be police in N.Z.

Naloxone info found on my tiny smartish phone…

wiki explanation of narcan

Time update on surgeon general advisory in U.S.A

Would a life have been saved if we had access to those drugs? Possibly.

Would harm have come from us having access to those drugs? Most definitely not.

Final score…

Police 3 charges, 2 convictions

Junkies -1

The Wall


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

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

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

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

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

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

The second judge said something along the lines of…

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

“About what?”

“These tweet and public media writings of yours”

“what the fuck?”

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

“We have had complaints”

“I have a complaint too –

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

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

“Of course you fucken ain’t”

“We are here about this tweet reading … __________________________”

“Oh piss off, you are kidding…”

“No, we are not kidding.”

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

“Why else would we be here?”

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

“Obviously she did not”

“Are you telling me she complained?”

“Why else would we be here.”

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

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

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



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

As do I.

I am proud of me sometimes.

Just need to remember it on a daily basis.

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

She is always telling me to make lists.

She is twenty yet considers herself to be my mentor.

I may yet take her advice on lists.

Gratitude list…

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


NZ POLICE, Witch Hunts, Privacy Issues…

As in the previous post, I have had the Police tell me things on a wink wink, nudge nudge basis.

One time in 1994 I think it was, they did come to me and warn me about a large white guy whom (it was alleged)  had some guns and a pretty big drug habit. They did not say such in words, but their meaning was very clear.

Me, being me and not all that put off by the thoughts of being involved in the dynamics of NZ’s illicit drug supply chain, was interested.

“Of course I don’t know who the fuck you’re talking about Detective Fucked-In-The-Face” (“Det’ Fucked-In-The-Face” is not his real name)

But I did know. Damn well. He owed me $400 roughly. For entirely legal purchases of… Uhm… Shit, uhm… Something totally legal okay?

They have also told me things about people I don’t want to know. In the case above, I figured much better to have him on my side, than against me, so as soon as Detective Fucked-In-The-Face had his back turned I was spending $2 a minute on New Zealand’s first cellphone to ring the big white guy and get him and his guns over to have a free cook up in my kitchen.

Fair enough. What would you do?!

So, twenty years later…

Was in Newtown yesterday and saw this girl whom had instantly stopped texting, phoning or otherwise communicating after February 14th 2015

(valentines day – purely co-incidence, there is no higher power………..)

She waved her exaggerated and quite cute wave, stopping me in my tracks and said the Police had been around her place searching for me May 5th 2015. I handed myself in and went to jail on that date. I had not had any contact with her since Feb 14 (pay attention people) so therefore there was almost three months between me last having ANY contact with her and the Police going to her house looking for me.

“They fucken what?”
“They came around my place looking for you….

  • “Is NZFIEND here?”

  • No, why what has he done?

  • “He has been harassing the fuck out of his ex partner and scaring his kid, is he here or not?”

  • No, why would he be here?

  • “If he is not here, then you won’t mind us coming in for a look then..”

(Police push in and have a look) 

“Why the hell would they think I was there. We had no contact at all for three months, since that Valentines Day….” 

“Oh, valentines day, oh right, yeah……” (slightly shady blush)

“…. And it’s not like we were ever linked romantically or are on any international crime stopper webshites…..” 

“No” (laughs loudly)

“…. So why would they come to your place and not three or for other people whom I actually was in contact with and staying with until the time of going to jail…..” 

(change of subject approaching rapidly as discomfort level raising….)

The Police DID NOT go to anyone elses house I have been in more frequent and more recent contact with. Including single ladies living alone.

However, the Police, I believe, have been looking at phone records and having a little “word in the ear, wink wink, nudge nudge, we were never here” with the idea of making me out to be a bad egg and a danger to them in some way. This young lady has actually had a baby with a Policeman. The Police would have no problem about ringing her (on Valentines day I would guess) and giving her a pretty blatant nudge nudge wink wink. A Policeman whom looks amazingly similar to her babies Dad now goes out of his way to do little things like break bones in my foot during arrests (look it up, I probably wrote about it at the time…)…

He drives a ute with dogs in the back by the way. I have his photo too. And a video of him being an abusive and aggressive fuck head, trying to cause a fight and then threatening me with arrest for walking off. Yes folks – A real life video of him doing this. And he didn’t even get to break my cellphone and take the memory out and throw it in the river this time. So I still have the video. Neat….

I have filled out official information and privacy act requests for the Police to explain how events such as this occur.

The police replies are farcical. Police constantly say “In answer to if the Police have contacted anyone with warnings about you, the answer is – Not that I could ascertain…

In a one page reply to ten requests for information they admit to giving advice to a football club saying “we suggest you re-think employing him in any capacity” but would give no reason as to why this advice was given, or whose authority was used for it to be provided. In every other instance they claim “I could not ascertain“… Which is a bullshit line if ever I heard one.

What that means, I figure, is that the single sergeant who wrote the letter COULD NOT 100% FIND THE INFORMATION. I doubt he / she even left his desk or wrote a single email and that his idea of running open and transparent government agencies is far different from mine.

I know they are full of shit, as I know for a fact that they have contacted people out of the blue and warned them in this way. Again, there are posts about this subject on this blog. My spiritual advisor ™ even received unsolicited calls from unidentified parties quoting information that was misleading, but obviously directly from Police, trying to put her off a relationship with me. Luckily my tongue was more value to her than theirs and we spent five or six years together after that initial hick-up.

The Police hate me, I hate them. Fair enough. Years of abuse from them, never being treated fairly, beaten up time and time again whilst in handcuffs as a teenager…

They should have just given me a box of ritalin, a pen and paper and let me finish university at twenty. Stupid capitalism.


Please contact me any time. Will gladly give out my real name, face and stories if it serves any good to the public at large.
The Police should not be allowed to do this shit.
Yet no one cares.

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.


^^^ 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.


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)

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.


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.


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

…. 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…



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.

NZ POLICE. Better work stories?

Well, the day is over. 4 or 5 hours sleep in three days, arrest, police and ‪#‎nzpolice‬ ( being utter wankers.

My 11 year old girl just got a fright and looked really scared when my neighbour knocked on the door to make sure we were all right. She thought the police were coming to take me away again.

I just read her a book and put her to bed. She said “good night Dad, I love you… But what if the police come in the night?”

Wellington NZ POLICE cells
FUCK YOU NZ POLICE. I now have a scared eleven year old girl to comfort.

I had gone to court, was told there were no charges and no warrant for arrest. I had gone home. You came, took me, and then AGAINST MY WISHES AND WITHOUT AUTHORITY rang the mother of my daughter, exaggerated the charges and circumstance, and although my daughter is quite capable of ringing her mum herself, you harassed my daughter for her mum’s number, also you tried getting her step dad’s number and then rang everyone worrying them sick.

All I had done was ask a postie to slow down whilst he ILLEGALLY RODE HIS MOTORBIKE THROUGH A PRIVATE PROPERTY to take a shortcut from one street to the next. He ignored me, called me a fuckwit, even though HE almost ran over my daughter the previous weekend, and then rev’d up his bike and aimed it at me, so I gave his helmet a bit of a tap with my hand. He then walks off, takes helmet off and approaches me with intent to scare me. He is bigger than me, with full motorbike gear on. I didn’t break his nose, I just stood there and told him what I thought of him and his riding illegally and dangerously – engaging second gear (around 20km/h) in a 1 metre wide pedestrian access that my front door opens straight onto.

He rings Police. Police say they would let me off with a warning, but I am “targeted” and the “bosses” will not let them give me a warning.
I go to court twice only to be told there is no charge and no warrant for arrest.

I go home with my daughter.

The police wanker (JOSH Xc113) arrives and tells me I am under arrest and the I will have to go to the station for twenty or thirty minutes. I get in the car with my daughter so she can be dropped at a friends.
He then tells me I am staying the night and there is no court until the morning. I am in chronic pain and am supposed to take tramadol and codeine three or four times a day. Given the fact it is only 2pm and Saturday court is not open until 10am, I really need some pills.

The police guy then said I was a liar, and that I had not gone to court and tried to piss me off enough to start a fight.

He then rang everyone he could think of telling them I was arrested, hinting at the reasons why (highly exaggerated) and even though he was aware that my ex partner and I was in family court and that I did not want to upset or worry her, he took great delight in making the situation as bad as possible.,


The outcome of all this?
I hate the police even more.

But now my 11 year old girl is scared of them and hates them with all her little fury.
#nzpolice better work stories.
How about some stories detailing how you helped a down trodden, helpless, New Zealander. Or maybe how you improved society somehow for the better?