fear of (a) average mind

you are human, no thing you do is wrong

Jerry sacks the Pedophile (+life story) #

Don’t seem like I’ve done a real post recently so let me tell you a “small world story”.

I have never live with parents *violin starts now*, zapped from children’s home to children’s home. When you arrive in a new home you have your story prepared, you are going to get asked by the other kids (it’s like how they size you up). As far as I can remember mine was: parents split when I was 2, got send up to Scotland for a couple of years, came back to Manchester, meanwhile dad had married another woman (wicked step-mom) she didn’t like me (dad was a pussy, she used to collect pennies in a jar, you know. One time I came home and it was smashed on the street outside the house, she told me dad it was me, he believed her and beat me up, what a wanker) so and got put in a home (Southwood) school (Tootle Drive). Was I bit to mad for Tootle Drive so got put in Sorrel Bank Special Unit.

Sorrel Banks playground was next to the main building, a massive Victorian building with massive window made up of small panes facing the playground. One time I got in trouble for something, don’t remember what, so I got a pile os stones and stood in the middle of the playground and started to throw the stones at the little window panes. These were the windows to the class rooms. I’d pick up a stone, aim for a pane and smash it. I think I got 20 before the staff came and got me to send me “home”.

click for biggerSo after all that crap my parents decide to zap me to a boarding school (Lower Lee) in Liverpool and get this, it was ran by pedophiles (nice one dad). Don’t think they got me though but there was one time when I was knocked unconscious by Peter Holmes kickin’ me in the head, when I woke up Peter Amundsen (yes he is related to Roald) was just leaving the room, don’t know what he had been up to but fuck it, it’s only sex. Nothing else ever happened to me as I was one of the kids that would go ape-shit if anyone ever came near me, i.e. not a victim (or maybe I was just ugly, HAHA!!! Even the pedo’s didn’t fancy me). Peter nearly adopted me at the end of my school days but I had loads of porn and knives and they found them and I did some crazy sex thing with one of the staff and the adoption fell trough (phew! near miss, imagine if he had adopted me).

I still get a letter every now and again (that’s how I found out about it in the first place) from some police organization asking me about what happened in Lower Lee. That’s how society “fucks” pedophiles. Contacting everyone from their past and let them know that the person is a pedophile, stigma.

When I was at LL I was told me dad gave up the right to me so a was sort of owed by Salford Council (I was sort of an anomaly, going the a school in Liverpool Council area but getting paid for by Salford Council) when my time was up at Lower Lee (unmolested, I think) I couldn’t go back to me dad coz he not have anything to do with me any more so I got so I got put in yet another children’s home (Peelwood) in Salford while the Salford Council figured out what to do with me. Spent two year there playing pool while all the other kids when to school.
While there a strange thing happened to me, I was asked where I wanted to live next, weird. Didn’t want to live in Manchester (it’s was shite, brit-pop hadn’t happened yet) so I wanted to live in Liverpool (maybe I just wanted to get away from my dick-head dad).

Anyway I was put in a “half-way house” and at this time I was officially “on my own”. I had never even cooked a tin of beans and these kind of places were meant to teach that but in reality that where just a place where they put prisoner just out of prison, immigrants and people just out of children’s homes or boarding schools. You can imagine what goes on in that kind of place. Well this place was run by a old couple who, well just decided to retire and tufted out all the people who were staying there out, nice, after all that shit I was dumped on the streets of Liverpool.

So lets summarize:
  • Born to two idiots in Yorkshire (who couldn’t look after a kid)

  • Zapped to Scotland (while they fight)

  • back to Manchester (meanwhile new wicked step-mum)

  • slammed in a children’s home (step-mum convinced fool dad)

  • sent to mad school (to mad for that)

  • sent to boarding school in Liverpool (dad gave me to Salford Council)

  • back to another children’s home in Salford (figuring out what to do with me)

  • put in a “half way house” in Liverpool (shut down)

  • dumped on the streets of Liverpool (with no life skills at all)
it’s amazing I’m such a “nice” person really, HEHE!!

Do you know I think I’m the best dad in the world coz I know I would be a crap dad so I’m never going to have a kid, I wouldn’t do such a shit thing to a human. Trapping a mind in a rotting bag of flesh, parents are cunts (:

click for biggerSo it would seem this was the beginning of my life, no family, no friend, no brains and so begins homelessness, squats, punks, music, festivals, drugs, cider and dreadlocks. Being on the streets of Liverpool at that time was not so bad as it was just at the beginning of the 80’s “summer of love”, I timed that pretty well. You could see and punk or a person with dreads, go up to them and say you wanted to live with them for a bit and they would take you home, it really was (a bit) like that in da’Pool. well within this chapter of me life I met nice crustys (dirty punks), Hurty, Grezza + Ness, and the very “funk as puck” Irish-man Jerry.

Well had some spiffing time till some scouse gangster wanted to kill me, Cal and Andy were moving to Wales (Llandrindod Wells) so I tagged along. Stayed in Wales for bout 10 years losing touch with Jerry and Grezza and all them. Ended up in a piss ant coast town (Borth). This is a bad place, really miserable and I ended up make a deal with myself: suicide or London (fuck knows why London). One day I just walked out of me flat, got on the train and went to live homeless on the streets of London (think I’ve done a post below bout this). Got a flat and one day i went on the net, did a search for Peter Amundsen and found out what he had done. That was a crazy night, went to every pub on Camden High Street, head in a bit of a spin. I thought it was another member of staff.

click for biggerWell I’m in me flat in London and I get a call from Cal. Ness + Grezza are getting married and she gave me Ness number, foned her and she well made up, told me to come to the wedding and they would pay for the train (them all loaded) and I stay with Jerry, well there’s not way I could say no. (me love them crazy kids). Night before the wedding me and Jerry getting pissed on his couch and (here’s the “small world” bit) it turned out that while I was in Wales Jerry had got a job in Lower Lee as a staff member and found out what Peter Amundsen was doing and was instrumental in getting him put in prison, now that was a real head-fuck. My nearly to be dad was put in prison by one of my future best friends. It’s a small world (but I wouldn’t like to paint it).

style madness #

HAHA!! As you can see by the little f buttons you can see I’ve gone style mad. If you aint messed with ya cookie settings it should remember which style ya like when ye come back here (:

How to do it, well:
make say 3 external style sheets with the different styles in (font-color, background pic, you can do font-size as well which could be handy). Then inside the <head> tags put:
<link rel=stylesheet href="style.css" type="text/css" media="screen" />
<link rel="alternate stylesheet" href="style.css" type="text/css" title="s1" media="screen" />
<link rel="alternate stylesheet" href="style2.css" type="text/css" title="s2" media="screen" />
<link rel="alternate stylesheet" href="style3.css" type="text/css" title="s3" media="screen" />
You can see how it works, then the javascript. I like to make me JS external as well and just add:
<script language="JavaScript" SRC="script.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
In-between the <head> tags, you could just put the script right in the <head> tags if ya wanted:
<script language="JavaScript" type="text/javascript">
>>>>Script goes here<<<<
OK here’s the script:
function setActiveStyleSheet(title){
var i,a,main;
for(i=0;(a = document.getElementsByTagName("link")[i]);i++){
if(a.getAttribute("rel").indexOf("style")!= -1 && a.getAttribute("title")){

function getActiveStyleSheet(){
var i, a;
for(i=0; (a = document.getElementsByTagName("link")[i]); i++) {
if(a.getAttribute("rel").indexOf("style") != -1 && a.getAttribute("title") && !a.disabled) return a.getAttribute("title");
return null;

function getPreferredStyleSheet(){
var i, a;
for(i=0; (a = document.getElementsByTagName("link")[i]); i++){
if(a.getAttribute("rel").indexOf("style") != -1
&& a.getAttribute("rel").indexOf("alt") == -1
&& a.getAttribute("title")
) return a.getAttribute("title");
return null;

function createCookie(name,value,days){
if (days) {
var date = new Date();
var expires = "; expires="+date.toGMTString();
else expires = "";
document.cookie = name+"="+value+expires+"; path=/";

function readCookie(name){
var nameEQ = name + "=";
var ca = document.cookie.split(';');
for(var i=0;i < ca.length;i++){
var c = ca[i];
while (c.charAt(0)==' ') c = c.substring(1,c.length);
if (c.indexOf(nameEQ) == 0) return c.substring(nameEQ.length,c.length);
return null;

window.onload = function(e){
var cookie = readCookie("style");
var title = cookie ? cookie : getPreferredStyleSheet();

window.onunload = function(e){
var title = getActiveStyleSheet();
createCookie("style", title, 365);

var cookie = readCookie("style");
var title = cookie ? cookie : getPreferredStyleSheet();
got that… cool. Now just make the links:
<a href="#switcher" onClick="setActiveStyleSheet('s1'); return false;">click here to switch style</a>
<a href="#switcher" onClick="setActiveStyleSheet('s2'); return false;">click here to switch style</a>
<a href="#switcher" onClick="setActiveStyleSheet('s3'); return false;">click here to switch style</a>


I like the little buttons I made, very easy. In style sheet(s) just put:
border:1px solid red;
border:1px solid black;

border:1px solid gray;
border:1px solid white;

border:1px solid white;
border:1px solid #5053F3;
then just put class=”switchw” in the <a> tag, i.e.
<a class=”switchw” href="#switcher" onClick="setActiveStyleSheet('s3'); return false;"> f </a>
<a class=”switchb” href="#switcher" onClick="setActiveStyleSheet('s3'); return false;"> f </a>
<a class=”switchbl” href="#switcher" onClick="setActiveStyleSheet('s3'); return false;"> f </a>

a page from zone riders #

posted from flickr
zone riders Originally uploaded by John Le Fucker.

a zine from johnie and hurty, we took to many drugs, the cat used to tell how we should live. strange lodger dynamics.

Jake, him love that funky music. #

posted from flickr
Crazy Dog Originally uploaded by John Le Fucker.

HAHA!!! he was a crazy dog, so much energy in such a small package. He once nearly died on a lake of ice. When we took him for walks in the Welsh hills he would chase sheep and we would run after him (farmers would shoot him if they wanted to). One time he set off after a sheep around a barn, when we ran around the corner there was Jake nose to nose with the (shaking) sheep. HAHA!! for all of his killer wolf instinct to chase sheep when he caught one he just stood looking at it, got to love him (: The sheep's leg just gave out under it and it sort of lay down, we just burst out laughing. One time we were walking through Rock Park and Jake came bounding out of a bush with a wallet in his mouth. Helen and me just looked at each other and pounced forwards shouting at Jake to drop it. We were scraping each other tooth and nail to get at it, Jake just looked at us. HAHA!!! the wallet was empty.

headcase #

 have we just had the
top of our heads cut off ?

Template, style and script #

You may have noticed 3 new links on the right (template, cascading style sheet and javascript) I decided to make this template available if ya want it, I think it’s a nice and elegant style. I put the style and script info in a external file coz it’s easier for me to edit them then upload them to my site (FTP) than it is to do it the blogger way. I put them I a folder called “gear” in the same dir as me blog, if you want to change that make sure you edit the 2 lines in-between the <head> tags in the template file. If you want everything to be in just 1 file, i.e.: the template file, do this:
Remove these 2 lines from between the <head> tags

<link rel=stylesheet href="http://www.fuckcunttwat.com/fear/gear/style.css" type="text/css">

<script language="JavaScript"
SRC="http://www.fuckcunttwat.com/fear/gear/script.js" type="text/javascript"></script>

And replace with these (in-between the <head> tags remember):

<style type="text/css">
Cut and paste the text from the “cascading style sheet” file here

<script language="JavaScript" type="text/javascript">
Cut and paste the text from the script file here
Then just select all, log on to Blogger. Go to the template and select all and ctrl+v or right-click on the text and paste. Save changes and republish your blog and BOOM, there ya go stylee. (:

on your knees to the city #

[14 days later the boy got a reply, a big city has lots of thing to do and speaks very slowly, it was happy the boy was polite and de]2

now on this day the boy struck a strange friendship with a nervous man who was far to lonely for this to matter

i’m sitin’ on your statue but the man who made it would rather talk to me
i’m sitin’ on you statue do i make it look untidy.
Do you know how it made me feel that look you gave me, how can you do it, humans don’t want to be like this we are born to a greater understanding. Only then can you do those things you want to.
Last night i had a dick in my mouth for the first time, it wasn’t that great and maybe i won’t do it again. Could it be i’m not gay, i wanted it to happen so much.

Woke up on this day, wanted to sleep the whole day, anything that happens today London wanted it to happen? what could London want with me today i wonder, has he got something bad in mind, only time will tell but if fills me with a longing to get on and find out what is going to happen. It feels like it will be good. But then it always feels like it will be good. Is that only my own fort out matter. It hard sometimes to be positive when you get woken up and kicked out of your temp home. this time you could find for contemplation and maybe you could find a better way to do what you do. Only with love can you find a way to be good N true to your heart. As they walk past see them as only wanting love and now you could maybe like them if that is actually get 1 you could never find a better way. Fuck this i’m doing bad and i don’t know a better way. Now i feel i may die. Could that i was a bottle. When a boy is lost he feels fear but is not fear good for you now you will have your time but for now you only have to believe it will happen and you can feel it, you’ll be ok, only “keep the faith”. Do what you must.

Could you ever beg off someone with leopard print clothing? i doubt it as say she likes to look rich. “Spare some change” thy is day get better now after i got an “Aright son how it goin’”. Could that he knew. Now you can find it in the dark corners of the place you used to live in, where do you live now. On your own on a street with no love to help you find a better way. Only when you are diein’ will you feel loved and only at the price of your faith. On all things like this you can depend only if you look rich can you be rich. And only then if you act the part. But the part of a human with lots of paper associated with them is a silly part, yes but if you want to live in a human world you must conform to what they expect. love is the only thing you don’t want to use. to many people in this place and not enough of the beautiful types who know how you can do what you do for their an understanding of the spirit of human connection all the others have left and as only on their way to death. Now you can see what you want to see. See how they run, See how they run. They can’t see this as good life. No maybe they win cause they play the game so well. Fight for what you want only then can you truly say you were happy. Finding out what you are is easy just looking into the eyes of a beggar. We perform a service for you in which you can see your true form. this man has major problems, don’t know, think they are fear. Just finding out about what you are could kill the very core you have been protecting

All your life. i’m sorry but you have a good face. you have an enemy and it not me. i think i is yourself and what you think when you look at me, is there any chance you are going to see me, when i die how can i let you know it’s about s happen?

London #

click for bigger
once a boy arrived in a big city. He did what he thought was polite and introduced himself to the city and asked if it was OK and if the big city wouldn’t mind looking after him. On the way he had read a book about another boy in a desert who knew the magic of the world, it had filled him with love for all items he meet, so when he arrived in the big city he felt it was only polite to introduce himself and let the big city know what he wanted
1 the big city liked this and
2 decided to look after the boy him, it would hide and guide him, because when you speak to a city, it loves feels loved and it loves you back

TV #

Richard and Judy: they really put the sick in sycophant.
Caddyshack II is not as good as caddyshack

The topsy-turvy world of the internet #

When I was on Bottom Feeder this was the covering letter I e-mailed with my CV:

Hello my name is Robert. At the moment I am unemployed and after a certain amount of time on benefit they send you on a soul destroying course in the hopes of depressing you back to work. I am on such a course at the moment and for the second part of the course we have to come in and “do job search” all day and prove we have at least applied for 5 job. Consequentially a lot of useless e-mails get sent out and I am afraid this is one of them. ):

If you found this e-mail annoying and a waste of your time please feel free to let “Kennedy Scott Ltd” know (a strange company, made to inflict misery on already miserable life’s, who would work for a company like that ?). Their e-mail is: info@kennedyscott.co.uk

I won’t thank you for your time as I am sorry I wasted it but they won’t let me just die in peace, man this is depressing.
Well I got this strange e-mail:
You are a genius

My cap is doffed and I want to thank you for making the task of sifting through a hundred crap emails and CVs from chefs who think they might want to colour-in instead of cook slightly less unbearable.

We don't need a web designer now. But we might in a bit.

Will you pester me if you're still looking for a job later in the year?

But I hope you won't have to because, to help, I've sent this little piece of greatness to everyone in the industry I know and I've asked them to send it around to everyone they know... I think it will spread like a bout chicken pox in a nudist camp.

And you might get a job.

That's if you really want one - if you don't then sorry, I was just trying to help.

Good luck.


The patron saint of cyclists #

I must look like I know a lot about bikes (push-bikes) because yesterday as I was pushing me bike alone the canal side (I sometimes like to get of and just walk) this lady rode along and stopped in front of me and, well… just talked to me straight away asking me if I know why her bike was making a noise. She said “do you know why the wheel makes a tsh, tsh, tsh sound as you ride along”. Well you know a bit of a warp in her wheel causing it to bang against the rim. The strange thing was I just started to explained that to her as if she was a friend I’d known for years, funny. I told her the brake-pad would ware down eventually and not to worry, “really she said”. “Yes” and she rode away. (:

Once just a couple of 100 yards from me house I was walking back from the shop to mine and there across the road was a lady with a push-bike looking most distressed, I’m a big ugly looking bugga but a have a soft voice so I when over and asked “what’s up”. HEHE!! I properly said “excuse me madam, are you OK?”.
Anyway 1 of the nice humans of London had stolen her “quick release leavers” from 1 of her wheels (basically the bolt at the middle of the wheel that holds it on).
Well I live on a housing estate at the end of the corridor (so if you walked passed my flat you’d hit a brick wall) so I “own” the bit of corridor in front of me flat witch I have filled with “junk”. Mostly bike parts, whenever I find a bike bit in the London I bring it home and throw in my “shed”. I must have about *hang on I’ll go count* 22 wheels, most with the bolt this girl needed so I told her to wait and I’d go and get her one. HAHA!! When I came back she was sitting on the floor looking all dejected. Fitted the bolt for her (a nice shiny blue anodized 1), shook hands and she was on her way, feeling a bit happier about London.

Every time I see a bike locked to a lamp-post that has fallen down I stop, go over and stand it up. I wouldn’t like to come back to my bike and find it on the floor. Kids would probably stand on the spokes or it would get in the way of prams.

We gott’a stick together.