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”.
So 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:
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 (:
So 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.
Well 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).
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”.
So 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 (:
So 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.
Well 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).
