For some reason I feel the need to say erm… I believe in freedom of speech – providing no hatred or violence gets involved. Numerous posts could be done on here daily, on here isn’t twitter. Like a very many I’m getting fed up of thinking will this post upset so and so. From this point on I’ve already typed and deleted how best to say; if I upset you it isn’t personal.
Be patient, I’m going to start memoirs, actually, many have been typed on here yet a very lot more to come. I will go through my site and tag those writings as such that do include my life. Could make a good book!
Yes that is incredibly tough to work out but here I try and in order! phew…
1980 – Left school at 15, too young for the dole.
1980 – Bradford Hauliers, vehicle mechanical yts shit.
1980 – Stephensons, metal wire operative yts shit.
1981 – J Clark engineering, machine operative, not shit, some nice folks.
1981 – Wileys cycles & toys, mechanic/sales person, loved it, brilliant owner.
1983 – RAF, painter & finisher (panel beater etc.), great friends. PVR’d.
1985 – Dole.
1985 – (Name?) Roller shutter installation, labourer. Shit.
1985 – Jade cycles, mechanic & sales, good-stole loads of cash & components.
1986 – Dole.
1986 – Maxicuts shop, general mug.
1986 – Cardinal shop fitters, shop-floor operative shit but met a good guy.
1987 – Hallfield garage, panel beater/sprayer, set of cunts.
1987 – Dole.
1987 – Metalbox engineering, stores/labourer, loved it, left because-ask…
1989 – Denso/marston radiators, machine operator, totally shit.
1990 – George Barker, refrigeration assembler, nice job, too many cunts.
1994 – Schwitzer Europe Ltd, machine operator, superb job then bad shifts.
1998 – AETC Ltd, setter/operator, super job, then supervisor/improvements.
2000 – Hurel-Dubois, cell manager, absolutely loved it, best job ever.
It’s a total shame, my personal life changed to being totally fucked up. Thinking I could have been very good there but life eh. Met a best friend ever though.
2002 – Reiter automotive, shift manager, enjoyed but I was fucked.
2003 – Dole.
2003 – Plumber, thankfully a couple of very good friends took me on.
2003 – Started performing with bands, many gigs.
2004 – Plumber/joiner/electrics/carpet fitter. Thank fuck for them.
2006 – Reached fourth year of plumbing (gas) but construction crashed.
2006 – Many gigs, with backing tracks solo, kept with bands. Solo was shit.
2007 – Hindle gears, machine setter/operator, it was OK.
2007 – Can’t remember company name? Machine setter/operator, shit.
2008 – Birkby’s plastics, Improvements engineer, they wouldn’t listen.
2008 – AETC Ltd, machine setter/operator, loved it, started feeling ill.
2009 – Metalbox engineering, progress chasing, very good but bad mind.
2009 – 600 Lathes, Shift manager/improvements, OK but even worse mind.
2009 – Dole.
New direction as I thought it was the previous jobs starting to make me ill.
2009 – Tong school, art & craft technician, loved it but still felt ill.
2009 – Allied healthcare, support worker, great job shit company.
2009 – Airedale hospital, support worker/lean team, absolutely loved it.
2010 – ill, mainly sarcoidosis but the mind also fucked up big time.
So I thought I had finally found a dream job in healthcare through the NHS at Airedale hospital. Worked with older folks and mentally ill folks. I loved it, the improvement side was secondary. My manufacturing background was perfect for them, as was my ‘firm’ stance! Anyway, job went.
2012 – Job through Leeds Remploy, administration/telephone work.
2013 – Body fucked up big time.
2014 – Done.
Another thought, does having so many jobs look stable?
Wrote while all the shit was going on, only after all these years does this really make sense…
Birds and bees, flowers and trees.
Why try to ruin all these.
The worlds a spin, too many sin.
Frost is thick out there…
Mad isn’t it, after so many years he feels the need to spew out some of that mind shit of facts.
Someone does a semen ‘burp’ in your face, another time they allow you to carry out Cunnilingus on them after they have had intercourse with another ‘man’ though in this case it was named Angela – in the phone.
He had boiling water thrown upon him, being kicked and punched into a kitchen corner, dropped he was seen, so pretended it was a game as she went out to the gym, meeting Angela.
He tried and just couldn’t get it.
Proper life back on track.
Smell and taste are are still shit.
But really, I needed life back.
It just hasn’t happened.
As it unfolded she mentioned the ‘snip’ so I thought it was meant for me, no – how silly, as I found out.
Every night the motions happen. Only recently broken legs were a serious thought, but it seems Angela died in 2014? Those legs should have been snapped well before and many times but, no.
Sean McElroy (Angela) was finally married three times, so much was found out, ‘Angela’ was a cunt and it is hoped all the pain possible happened during that death.
But it takes two…
And no, I never did do any kicking or punching to her, it was the other way round.
I’m an old 53 and very tired, 53 years of memories, mainly shit apart from two.
A neighbour, she knocked loudly on my door, she told me the parcel had been outside my door since Wednesday and then she asked if I was alright. Told her yes, I went to the doctors on Tuesday and all is OK. The look on her face didn’t believe me but I really did go to the doctors.
She said if there is anything she can do then just ask, I felt very old, a very old 53 years of age. I don’t have a mirror though I know my eyes were very red, my coughing has been really bad and the gum is still open from 5th December tooth removal. 10th January the hospital want to start taking more teeth out and to see if I heal (bone and gum), then the phosphates injection thingy stuff. I do not want to do any of that.
You know, I’m getting very tired of my Sarcoidosis and the ‘drugs’ but is it the time of year?
On Tuesday I told the Doctor I feel they are now just trying to manage me until my death. Since then I’ve spent most time in bed thinking – that my life has been one big cock-up and it should finish.
I’m so sorry my son’s have to go through this with me.
A vinyl record being played in reverse is just a load of squiggly jumble until something is heard that actually isn’t there, them three are just the same, confused jumble thinking life can be what it isn’t. The point being; their life has been a jumbled, confused mess of peaks and troughs, that are forever getting deeper.
Living in an old body takes their energy away.
They have been acting for 53 years.
Get beyond the 12 days.
It can be really odd trying ‘not’ to explain it as explaining can be easy?
A massive difference to damaging oneself as opposed to being damaged by another is a delicate place, both are parallel. You can be damaged, recover then become damaged much later through those early damaged memories.
Somewhat recover then remember what had been buried. Fucking mad isn’t it…