Monthly Archives: November 2012

A dream of worry and abandonment.

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I dreamt of my toddler falling back and breaking his neck.  I was frightened. Was the child dead? I worry for his safety. I am highly aware of the fragility of life. I read ”Adrift on The Open Veld.” These scenes of slaying in the South African War made me think about this.

 

Then I dreamt of a threesome with two women. I cannot think who they were. Both were about 30 short and not slim. I was about to do one of them.  I was erect but had to wake to take a slazenger. I had been thinking of how when I had girlfriend who were willing to do 3somes I was unwise not to take the opportunity.

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Free Simon Jones.

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Simon Jones was a policeman in Nottinghamshire. This man has been sent to prison for engaging in consesual sex with adults.  It is shockingly unjust that he has been incarcerated for this. What he did was against the law since he copulated with one person while he was on duty. The other person who was pertinent to the case became known to PC Jones in the course of Jone’s official duties. This was also held to be criminous.

It is worrying and totally unfair that Simon Jones has been locked up for a single moment for what he has done. He wasted police time by having sex when he was supposed to be preventing crime. Well at least he made it impossible for that woman to become a victim of crime when he was penetrating her! I can see a strong case for him being dismissed but to send him to gaol is totally wrong. He was convicted of misconduct in a public office.

Nottinghmashire police described this unfortunate policeman as a sexual predator. This is very damning language to use against a man who has done nothing immoral. There was no victim of what he did. The spokeswoman who gave a statement about Mr Jones said that he was s exual predator. What is that? Is it someone who seeks sex? This ill-defined term is an especially cruel insult.  The spokeswoman said that these women may not perceive themselves to be victims. Maybe that is because they were NOT victims. He sent one of them over 1 000 texts. Isn’t that caused a relationship? It seems wrong that a police officer cannot form a relationship with anyone he met through his duties. These females may have been attracted to a man in uniform and one who helped them at a difficult time.

There are sex criminals who really represent a danger to society. Such men and women have sex with young children or they rape adults. Jones did neither. By going after him police time has been wasted. A huge amount of public money has been wasted bby imprisoning a blameless man. The term sex beast has been devalued. He should not have served a single day. His liberty has been taken away without any justification.

He did well in his career and the UK has lost a good officer. The Kingdom can ill afford to do this.  The current hysteria about sex crime makes the police want to catch people and to brand them with this most damning of labels just to sate the appetite of a certain section of the public for supposed wrongdoers to be punished. We have lost our moral compass.

Sir Jimmy Savile revelation

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It has been brought to light what horrific abuse the late and unlamented James Savile, Knight, used to visit upon defenceless children. I am not talking about tittle-tattle. There are accusations that have been proved true by testimony and photographic evidnce. What he used to to do kids was truly disgusting and immoral. He smoked a cigar in front of them.

A dream of David Cameron as a doctor, being a POW in Germany etc…

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I dreamt that I was in a doctor’s surgery. David Cameron was a doctor and wore a white coat over a dark blue suit. At first it did not surprise me at all. The room was dimly lit. I lay on the operating table as it were. Cameron asked me to lie just like that – I was in the foetal position. He was speaking to someone else saying that a foetus like this came out being of superior intelligence. I lay with a white sheet over me.

Later it seemed odd to me that Cameron had been the doctor. Me playing the role of a foetus did not seem peculiar to me. Maybe this foetus thing came up because I was thinking about foetuses and termination last night. I was thinking of a former pupil of mine yesterday and she is named Schwetha. I thought of my child and wondered how clever he is and whether he is a tiny bit autistic.

Then in my dream I was in Germany during the Second World War. I was a prisoner of war. I was there with several other British soldiers. No one seemed despondent. We wore a dull green itchy uniform. There was a low wire fence. I wandered around the small area where we were caged. There were sheds and greenhouses. It was a cloudy day. I spoke German and saw myself as being the link between the Prisoner of War and the guards. The guards seemed to be amiable. I was remarkably upbeat. I wondered whether I should essay to win favour with them by raising my arm to 45 degrees and say Heil Hitler. I considered whether this was dishonourable and would I be penalised for this after the war.

Then I saw a tiger  – it was very small and looked almost like a toy I lay with its belly on the ground. I backed off – it did not growl. It attacked another soldier but did not kill or even seriously injure the man. There was another animal in the POW camp – a sheep I think.

Kiev – travel writing. By Marmaduke O’Connor.

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Kiev is a city that has a lot to offer without being too large. A kicking nightlife, gorgeous cathedrals, pensive parks, splendid vistas over the mighty River Dnieper, an enought boutiques to break any bank account – these are among the city’s myriad attractions. Kiev boasts numerous stately streets and imposing squares. It is dotted with fascinating art galleries and museums. Kiev is incredibly historic – remember Kiev, not Moscow, was the birthplace of the Russian state. The metro is easy to navigate, clean and ridiculously affordable.

Despite this not being Russia most people in Kiev prefer to speak Russian rather than Ukrainian. Quite a few young people speak English. The city has hills and valleys. The city centre is handsome but the outskirts give way to the typical Soviet era spirit crushing monochrome tower blocks.

Ladies, lock up your husbands. This is the unthinking man’s Amsterdam. When I landed at the airport I found that the airline had mislaid my back. After a lame attempt to chat up what airline chick who was dealing with this mishap I went to my hotel. Even the most respectable hotels will have cards offering the sort of ‘massages’ that are not available on the NHS. More eye-catching to a romantic fool such as yours truly were advertisements for marriage introductions. ‘Just call us up and we will send a car to take you to the party.’ This may well be a be a guaranteed score with an English-speaking babe. Many young ladies are desperate to get the hell out of the country. I thought to myself, ‘am I really sad enough to go to an event for hopeless desperates?’. I idiotically chose not to take this opprotunity of a lifetime. Next time I will not make the same mistake. Don’t be shy now. There is no shame in it. Moreover, nobody will ever know unless you choose to tell them.  The Ukraine is not in the EU remember so it is very difficult Ukrainians to move abroad. Yes, there are also Ukranian lads eager to hook up with foreign females.

 

Ahead of the 2012 European Football Championships some Ukrainian girls protested against the sexualisation of women in the Ukraine. They did this by getting their kegs out in public. Ironic, no? These are my kind of feminists.

Hotel accommodation is the only aspect of Kiev that can be pricey.

As for going to other Ukrainian cities – bear in mind that this is a country the size of France and Germany combined. Distances are long and surface travel, though cheap as chips, is maddeningly slow. Flying to other cities may be well worth the outlay.

Kiev is linked directly to Baku by Aero Svit which is the Ukraine’s national carrier.

A dream of an Arab family. A dream of two lesbo hookers.

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It may have been thinking about the Israeli ‘Defence’ Force bombarding buildings in Gaza that caused my mind to turn to the Ishmaelites. Anyhow, herewith my revery of the night before the most immediately past e’en.

I dreamt that I was on a boat of some sort. It may be because someone told me about the Venice attraction here in Oiltown. One can travel very slowly on a board by marble buildings. It strikes me as a trifle twee.

In my dream I was sitting in a tiny boat and travelling slowly. I was content. It was daytime but not sunny. Then I found myself in a small house – it was sparsely furnished. The place was not hot nor cold. I sat on the floor. There were a few Arabs there. One was a beareded man of my age. I recognised him as AhMED. I was at school with this boy when he was 11. He is from Kuwait. I have not seen him in years. There were two boys aged about 10 there. One was named Ibrahim. I cannot recall the other one’s name. Ibrahim and his uncle are from Qatar and I met them in 1995. Yes – the nephew was a year older than the uncle!  In my dream they were the same age as when I knew them. Qatari and Kuwaiti became elided in my mind. Ahmed was the father of these boys. A middle aged woman came in and smiled very genuinely. She did not shake hands or anything. All wore Occidental garb.

I cannot remember what we spoke about but it was a quiet and pleasant encounter. We were both a little surprised to see each other.

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I dream last eventide of something more prosaic. I was waiting around the drawing room of a well appointed knocking shop that I know right well. I chatted to two Midde European youths. Both were 20 or so and slim. One of them may have been ALin my former student. Alin hired the services of a lady of the night in Amsterdam once he told me. ANyhow. I sat there for sometime speaking to these boys before at last my turn arrived with the hos. We walked out of the building – oddly. We walked down a sunny treelined street and around a corner. i was upbeat and exhanged bawdry with them. I asked about condoms and they said they had high quality ones. I may have been a tad anxious about his issue as I had blood taken for real that day.

I then was ushered into a room where I met my dear Oana and the decent Amalia. I had hired them for a lesbi show and was going to get to do them both. Oana was particuarly glad to meet me once again. I have not seen her in a long time. She was nude and I noticed how chubby she is. It reminded me of Amalia answering the door absolutely starker – not so much as a follicle to hide her humid regions. I do not remember actually doing them or watching the whores lezz off. It is odd that – in my dreams I always build up to it but seldom to never dream of penetration.

I know it seems like a stereotype about lesbians but guess what that is because we do actually want to see lesbo action and to have threesomes.

 

 

 

Bal Thackeray has gone to his reward – wish him not well.

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Bal Thackeray died a few days ago. I was never and admirer of this dangerous demagogue. Mr Thackeray dominated politics in the state of Maharashtra for decades. He founded his Shiva Sena Party in 1966. His fulminations against Muslims and other minority groups were truly shocking. He did a lot to stoke communalism. He damaged community relations by calling for the illegal destruction of the Babri Masjid in Varanasi. He also asked his fellow Hindus 10 years ago to form suicide squads to go and blow up Muslims. He was in some ways the equal of Islamist terrorists.

Thackeray forged his career in the great city if Bombay. He was instrumental in having the name changed to Mumbai. Mumbai has a considerable Muslim minority. His inflammatory anti-Muslim rhetoric was reprehensible. Words have actions and his philippics against Indian Muslims resulted in many attacks on Muslims. He bears a degree of responsibility for the murders of scores of Muslims in Mumabi. He provided the mood music for such crimes.

I recall being in Mumbai in 1999. I had not heard of him up until then. I assumed that he was an Anglo-Indian and a desceddant of the Indian born British novelist – William Makepeace Thackeray. I read then a piece where it was suggested that Shree Thackeray would be arrested and held in prison for some time. He stated that his cell must have an Indian seat – he would never deign to use an English seat. I met a chap from Mumabi in Istanbul Airport in 2003. He told me this could not be the case – no police officer would dare to feel the collar of Thackeray. Thackeray had such a following among the working class Hindus in that state that if anyone laid a finger on Thackeray the state would be in uproar.

Thackeray did not hold elected office but there was no secret that he was the king in all but name of that state. He could make and unmake a state government. At the mere snap of his fingers Mumbai would be plunged into tumult. His sentimentalism and his exploitation of bigotry was revolting as it was frightening.

He condemned a film showing lesbian characters in a positive light. He denounced Valentine’s Day. Many aspects of Occidental culture he vituperated as decadent. He would not let people live as they wished. He tried to impose his retrograde vision on everyone. He slammed Christians too and contributed to physical attacks on them. His toxic anti-Mohammedan discourse in fact strengthened Islamist terrorists. He drove a wedge between the two communities. He eroded sympathy for India due to his appallingly bigoted comments.

Much has been made of his avowed admiration of Hitler. To be fair he only admired some parts of Hitler’s rule. He acknowledge that Hitler did many evil things. One should not quote only selectively. He admitted that Hitler was guilty of the mass murder of Jews.

He has since been cremated. There is no hereafter. It is a shame that there is no Hades for this rebarbative man to go to.