This is a merge of my 'Wanderer' blog that tells of two years of my three years on the streets, and a new blog that tells of my life after the Diocese of Winchester ripped through my life for for the last few years on top of the previous serious harm that left me homeless
This is a day to day blog of my life as I continue to survive, work on recovery and on the social problems that I have and try to come to terms with limitless traumas I have survived along the way.
This blog is in tandem with my blog about my experiences in the Church of England

The former name of this blog and the name of it's sister blog are to do with my sense of humour, which I hope to keep to the end, which appears to be ever more rapidly approaching. At least I laughed, and I laughed at the people who were destroying me. Don't forget that.

Here are my books, which I wrote for you if you would like to know more:

Saturday, 14 May 2016


Stand down may mean less posts for now.

Anyway, Yesterday I simply fell asleep on the unmade bed at about 5pm, and didn't wake until the neighbour's kids were chattering outside at about 9.40pm.
I didn't know if I would sleep again so I sat here for a few hours before going back to bed.
I did sleep again, waking only briefly in the early hours and sleeping again until it was time to do the papers.

It has been a sunny day, and eventually I went out for a drive, everything is spring green in the sunshine, it was nice to be out.
My energy is low and I think I will sleep after watching 'Back to the Future' or part of it. Apart from that and painkillers and inability to type, I am kind of OK, well no I'm not but in a way I am. the terror and fury has calmed into exhausted calmness. I am floating in a bubble.

The flat needs sorting out, but at least I got the laundry done, I had to stop the staff and customers kidnapping my toys though, most of them wanted the owl rather than Patrick and Suzy. I don't know the Owl's name. The toys have come back clean and fluffy.

I remain very puzzled about the Bishop of Winchester and who put him up to this attack. He and Senator Gorst are both spineless lesbian sock-puppets who only act when they are told to. Any ideas? Obviously something is at stake for the Bishop, to contact me when he knows my feelings about it.

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