The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Someone messaged me, saying that they were worried they were turning ‘emo.’

To me, that’s a good thing, as it infers you can show your emotions.

Grant you, too much of anything is a bad thing. Yet after my first ex and before the second, I had none. I taught myself to avoid emotion, it had been the ‘safe’ thing to do I’d thought. Maybe that’s true. But when you don’t feel, you don’t know the rest and the simple joys of life. But, long story cut short, I went to a relationship counsellor, as part of my own search for self-development. That’s when I ‘discovered’ how much emotions can hurt again, when I’d got a crush on my counsellor. Well, she went away then, to a better job, in Liverpool and I had to learn a new ‘way’ again. That had taken years, a confidence course, an assertiveness course and someone helping me deal with overt outbursts of repressed aggression.

Keeping emotion at bay isn’t necessarily a good thing, I’d suggest.

Anyway, this morning I read a story that really touched me. It seems someone I know on VR here has a past like my two ex’s and the message she sent me last night really touched me, as it was written because she’d liked my stories, through which a connection was made. Through this, she had shared and I’m truly honoured that she chose to do so. Her story had really touched me and in a fashion, that’s the link between two entirely different things, the ability to ‘feel.’

Although I’d heard the Bob Dylan song, ‘Hurricane’ I’d not known much about Rubin Carter, jailed erroneously by the State of New Jersey.

Then last night, strike that, this morning, I earned my baggy eyes, when I watched the film ‘Hurricane’, starring Denzel Washington.

I’m always saying that Hollywood can’t make ‘little films,’ hence liking European movies as much as I do. Yet this was, a little movie, with a big heart, about a set of circumstances that led to a trio of Canadians assisting with Rubin Carters freedom, after a lot of years in jail.

**

As the film illustrated, they became involved in his case, as they had been touched by his story and wanted to make a difference. Shouldn’t that be the human precept, the desire to try and wring change for the better, when touched by something you feel?

I did a confidence class and an assertiveness class, as I didn't see me, as others see me.

now, I'm 'better' than I was.

content is good. hard to attain.. but, content is good..

..and acceptence can lead to that.

I gotta kiss, from Mrs Woods, whose son I went to school with. and it was 'proper sweet.'

..

met on the street, as I was going home from getting tobacco..

and she wa going there, 'for a bottle', as she informed me, conspiratorially.

I'd taken her hand, to wish her a Happy New Year.

She hadn't released it and given me a kiss.. Awwwww

It’s about 5:00p.m. so Microsoft inform me, by the clock on the task bar on little-laptop, as I type away, with Bugs Bunny and Brendan Fraser in ‘Looney Tunes: Back In Action’ and I’ve just told my Mother I’m never taking my coat off again.

“Nonsense,” she said, “the central heatings on.”

So. Eventually I took my jacket off.

Outside the weather is atrocious. We even had rainspots on the front window. We never get rain on that window, unless the wind is really bad: and, it is.

The sky was grey most of the day, except for awhile, during lunchtime and I guess I should’ve gone out then. But, my Father had put ‘A Christmas Carol’ on. The colourized Alastair Sim version, which I recall so well from my childhood: and today as then, I cried at the same places. Tears poured down my cheeks, as Ebeneezer Scrooge realized how little ‘business’ means; as Tiny Tim’s empty seat was suggested; as Scrooge awoke from his slumbers on Christmas morn. Realizing ‘the spirits had done it all in one night.’ I like that film, very much. I’d almost forgotten how much. Then when it had ended, I’d been going to face the weather and traverse, next door but one and a neighbour ‘Aunty’ Betty, just out of hospital.

I’d got as far as the end of the drive when my Father had called me back.

“It’s the phone, for you,” he’d said, adding, “I told you not to go out.”

It’d been Simon, my agoraphobic friend, asking me how my Christmas had gone, which I’d thought was good of him.

Then the call ended, I’d zipped my jacket off again and toddled out the front door and facing the weather, went visiting.

Boy it had been good to see ‘Aunty’ Betty. I hadn’t seen her since before the cancer biopsy and operation and her brother-In-Law mightn’t have seen Christmas through, as he died while she was in hospital. Yet, there she was in the front room, on the couch and looking, well, okay.

So, it was back home then to type, as Daffy Duck saved the world, with a little help from Bugs Bunny and Brendan Fraser.

**

I know I noticed more than a few fan references in that movie and a Dalek or two.

I'm fine.. the pc isn't.. just needs a reinsrtall, I think. Thing is, my friend is very busy.. and though he's willing to help, it needs to be according to his schedule.

..

meanwhile little laptop is standing by.

I’m not in a bright mood. Last night this thing drove me to distraction. 'The tower' is very ill. I will have to be using little laptop soon. It seems that one must watch out for malaware, as much as adaware, or other virus. What I had was an infostealer.

Courtesy of a YIM chat with a lady from New Orleans I woke with the desire to cook and what’s more, cook Yorkshire Pudding. Now, for would have been fine, except that beef wasn’t on the menu, the remains of the turkey were.

That irrespective, I wanted Yorkshire Pudding and Yorkshire Pudding I would have.

The batter was light and well whisked and boy – when it was served, it looked and tasted just as I’d wanted.

..

I must say ‘thank you’ for the thought, to a certain Ladywordsmith.

..

Basic Recipe for Batter

4oz. Plain flour 1 egg

A pinch of salt ½ pint milk and water



For batter pudding, pour tablespoon of fat in a warmed tin then pour batter mixture in it and bake in a hot oven (425 F., mark 7) for about forty minutes.

I got up late, to open my presents by the fire in my moulting blue terry-towel robe, sitting with my Mum & Dad. Looking out the window, at a blue-sky day and noticed a ladybird, alive, on the inside of the window and I’d wondered briefly as to how long it’s been there. It’s got to be through winter.

The presents unwrapped, I’d returned to my room, to watch some more of the box, before our dinner, having already seen my first film of the day, ‘Santa Claus 2’ with Tim Allen. I’d cried a little during the first one, same point each time I’ve seen it, right at the point where Santa’s ex-wife receives the present she hadn’t as a child, as does her new husband and through this simple act, they find belief, again.

About half-way through, Cecilia rang. I knew her when I was working last, having met her when I’d worked in a community based technology centre, with p.c.’s for public access. Having remembered her well, I'd sent her a Christmas card, much as German Susie, who I knew from ‘the project’, had done with me. She agreed to phone later, as we’d enjoyed talking.

“After Doctor Who,” she’d told me, proving that she knows me quite well.

Eventually I’d dressed, ready for our Christmas dinner – one of the few times a year we eat our main meal at ‘lunchtime.’ We’d had a Californian white wine with the meal, a present to me from Roger, the soup kitchens ‘team leader.’

And in the Queen’s speech, she spoke of the positive values and highlighted the need to help the vulnerable. I appreciate my folks around – they make my Christmas, a very Happy Christmas. And, as for helping the vulnerable: no churchgoers helped us on the project this year.

“And if you want a mince-pie, there’s one over there…” my Mother had said mid-afternoon, pointing to the fire, as my parents had a cup of tea.

I got asked more than once. But, dinner had been good… I’d had enough.

Then, as the evening grew on, so did my anticipation, for the Doctor Who Christmas show: ‘Voyage Of The Damned’ and the meeting of two British icons, The Doctor and the Pop Princess, Kylie Minogue. Based on ‘The Titanic’ and with a story that included the imminent destruction of Earth, again, it’d been everything that I’d wanted it to be.

Just a short while after it finished, Cecilia phoned as I hoped she might. It had been good to hear her voice again, after so long. I do so like hearing her say my name with her accent. I had learnt during an hour long chat, that the Spanish for ‘Pretty Lady’ is ‘Signora Bonita.’ The pity is that I won’t be able to contact her till in the New Year, as she’s off visiting. Typical…

But, I had enjoyed the mince-pie and just before I began to think of bed, I learnt that my ‘Christmas Story’ found radio airplay yesterday.

**

I made a point of saying to my Mother, I’d enjoyed the day.

**

I just watched ‘Satin Rouge’, an intriguing film, about a widow’s sexual awakening, in Tunisia. As I had watched her find liberation, through dance, it had reminded me of a South American Lady, finding pleasure through the expression of dance: for her, a real change, from the grey of England. I think.

On 14:55:57 Dec 20 2007 ******** wrote:



AngelustheConfronter



On 14:56:58 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



**smiles**



"don't know what you mean."



On 14:57:36 Dec 20 2007 ******** wrote:



sure sure



;)



On 14:58:29 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



"I'm an innocent abroad in a world of corruption."



On 14:59:03 Dec 20 2007 ******** wrote:



True True ;)



HA HA! Exactly!



On 15:01:33 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



"Sane amongst the insane!"



From: ********



HA HA! Exactly!

And what was it, two days ago? Aye, I think it was just two days ago, ‘they’ admitted that nine Health Authorities in England, have lost thousand of patient’s records.

**

Is this government more inept than any other, or do they all have secrets to surface?

On 13:49:06 Dec 19 2007 ********* wrote:



Hey hun, how are you going today?



On 14:35:20 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



this being the day after you asked.

er, I was busy.



On 14:36:30 Dec 20 2007 ********* wrote:



Lol no worries.



On 14:44:25 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



got to see some more rushes.. nearing final edit.. of the film I was in.



On 14:50:39 Dec 20 2007 ********* wrote:



Really? That sounds great. Exciting!



On 14:51:51 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



it was.. we're hoping it'll makes Cannes, next year.



On 14:52:36 Dec 20 2007 ********* wrote:



Wow that's fantastic!



On 14:53:28 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



aye.. "Har har!" (See journal entry.)



On 15:01:49 Dec 20 2007 ********* wrote:



You say har har at the end of every scene? Lol.



On 15:04:08 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



it seems so now. And the zombies say "I'm weird."



On 15:05:04 Dec 20 2007 ********* wrote:



I thought zombies only said "brains". Or is that far too stereotypical??



On 15:06:47 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



they played cards with me. I was playing the SFX make-up man, "who's not a vampire."



On 15:07:46 Dec 20 2007 ********* wrote:



lol so far it's sounding very amusing, not to mention a bit weird, as the zombies say ;)



On 15:08:21 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



the parts were acquired on ebay: very experimental.



On 15:09:13 Dec 20 2007 ********* wrote:



Hm ok that sounds disturbing. I'm imagining buying parts of zombies off ebay and having them shipped across the world to you now =P



On 15:14:09 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



I so like the sound of that!



On 15:14:52 Dec 20 2007 ********* wrote:



It is delightfully freakish isn't it!



So you'd open up your box of zombie parts at the breakfast table... lol...



On 15:15:40 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



nah, the mail doesn't arrive that early now.. it'd be about lunchtime.



On 15:16:35 Dec 20 2007 ********* wrote:



Oh, that's a shame.



It's not nearly so astounding opening zombie boxes over your sandwiches as it is over your cornflakes... lol...



On 15:22:52 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



it's prunes for lunch. High cholesterol.



On 15:25:20 Dec 20 2007 ********* wrote:



Hm well in that case, maybe zombie parts do fit the scene then...



On 15:35:59 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



which reminds me..



On 15:36:34 Dec 20 2007 wrote:



yes???



On 15:37:50 Dec 20 2007 Angelus wrote:



I haven't had my prunes.

"everything is tickety-boo,

everything is tickety-boo:

everything is tickety-boo

on a sunday morning..."

..

last minute christmas card delivery.. a mission.. and, a moon chase, with a camera. was today..

..

and Now, I have episodes 9, 10, 11 0f 'Heroes' Season 2 to watch. Well content...

12-22-2007-Friday



I’d had a good evening, with friends, a very good evening and was lucky enough to get a lift to Birkenhead, from Wallasey. But, there my luck had ended. I had got to the Chester platform as the train, the last train to Bromborough, pulled out. Minutes later, there was I in the booking office at Hamilton Square, just passing an aside to a older fellow, ‘that at least I wouldn’t me walking from Wallsey to Brombrough.’ I had been making light of my predicament that is all. At that, a cropped headed blonde haired tall slim male with an olive zip-up jacket, offered me a lift in his taxi to Rock Ferry. Then, an attractive Lady with striking brown eyes, with her dark hair cut short, to the neck, out with her two friends had decided it was too far for me to walk and wanted to pay for my taxi home, as it was too cold. She hadn’t been drunk; she’s been going out. Like the young man before her, they were being good human beings. But I’ve walked that walk several times; it hadn’t concerned me, too much. Then as I politely walked away, the fellow I’d made the comment to had gestured for me to follow him to his wife’s car. He’d explained the situation to her; and then she’d willingly driven a good ten-minutes out her way, to take me about five hundred yards from where I live.

**

What good people to encounter, on the way home in the early hours.

..the team leader of the project took us out for a meal last night: and let me say hear and now, if you want to eat a good Chinese meal, eat where the Chinese eat.

..

That said, if you're ever in Liverpool, do go eat at the Tai Pan restaurant.

It definitelt gets my recommendation.

The windows open, as I smoke, so I’m literally chillin as I type. It was a good day yesterday. I had visited my agaraphobic mate Simon, who’d taken delight in the fact that the front room looks like the ideal ‘lads pad’ and had a pretty good afternoon. And yes, there is evidence. Then I had toddled off to Liverpool, to meet John at Parr St. Studio’s bar. After a wait, in the cold, the cast turned up one by one. It’d been good to see everyone and see the edited version. Grant you, it’s still missing bits. But, its getting there and it’s certainly funny and my ‘little bit’ in the film is now more prominent than I’d thought it’d be, right down the ‘Har har’ that my character says at the end of most of my scenes.

Soon to get ready to go to help with the Christmas meal on the project. I think we're getting a staff meal. I think.. Thai Pan Chinese restaurant. I think. Roger the team leader, who's paying, says I fancy the tall Chinese behind the bar.. the one with an adams apple. He remember me ogling last time he took us.

...today's my Christmas panic day!

It's been mentioned today, that back in May, the details on HDD, of 3 million learner drivers was lost by a firm called Persons based in Iowa, USA



**



WTF! It'd bad enough it happened, but what was the information doing in the USA??

Questions should be asked, when overt censorship can take place at the whim of someones dictate.

..

and you don't know why something is 'censored.'

One of my female friends did something I hated, as a single woman. She had a child, ‘coz she felt her clock was running out. It didn't matter that she didn't ask for his help and he thought she was protected, as she suggested as such.

She was my first love, so I saw her through the pregnancy and gave her a roof over head

But, my life was falling apart; the company was useful; then eventually I became 'a part of my life I'd rather forget.' I had asked her to marry me: and, I wonder still what would have happened. Although I dislike "what if's ".. What if I hadn't ended up sad and lonely and getting involved with a smack-head whore and getting threatened with a pair of my own scissors to my throat?

I studied many faiths. I have no particular belief system I follow. Though I don't like crowds baying for blood in the name of a faith.. like over a recent teddy bear incident.. or the danish cartoonist who was killed.

Keep thinking of a piece of social critique going, as it caused offence 'coz it had a woman selling herself. Well that happens...

..

And then I saw a stamp in someones comments box showing a group of women sawing into their wrists over a bath...

..

WTF! Violence is okay, sex in context isn't!

I got a message regarding yesterday which touched me.. and I've re-printed it here.. it says better than I could how I feel about the whole thing.

I did like the touch at the end.

..

"Sex is something alot of people have issues with. It is society telling us that sex is bad. No, sex is not bad. It is how we handle it that can be bad or hurtful. If we make everyone believe sex is evil, then they feel evil and dirty deep down if they have sex sometimes even in the course of a marriage. I think that is one of the things that leads to cheating. A person is married to someone with sexual hang ups and cannot cope.



Of course, some sexual desires are sick, but have little or nothing to do with sex per say. Rape is not a crime of passion. It is normally a crime of power. Hope I do not get censored for mentioning sex in a private message."

..

I'm just upset about the whole thing. The story was good: it had merit.

I'm not going to hang myself: but compared to some of the dross here, it was damn good.

off for a whiskey soon.

just the one.. then I'll visit Karl.

I acquired 'Blood Ties' 2:04 yesterday..

Oh-boy, am I looking forward to seeing it.

..

that show is brilliant.

my suspension and that stories removal intimates to me that violence is acceptable, whereas a story that I felt had merit, as it spoke of stuff I know of and wanted to comment on couldn't be used.

..

no wonder there are shootings in schools.

..

my next piece up may be the bloodiest, goriest piece of trash.. and I'll lay odds, that's fine.

..

I really am hurt by this: and whoever 'reported' me is one of theose intolerant individuals I wrote of crying for tolerance.

..

sorry, I've just learnt I'm still upset.

...why is it that those who might shout loudest for tolerance, are generally the last people to show it?

..,

In 'their' world, violence is persmissable: yet a story, or a cartoon gets censured.

meanwhile, to seek expression, they use a gun and target those in society 'they' say don't understand them.

..

that's been my lesson of the night.

just, BAH. I wouldn't of minded.. but extreme violence is okay and that story got banned and it didn't even have any explicit sex in it.

..

and if it had?

it seems violence is okay?

..

and sex isn't?

..

is that the society we want?

..

I am surprised that words would be censored here, like that.

I’d logged on, to learn my journal has been suspended.



It seems someone complained about the one where the girl sells herself, nevermind the fact the vampire gives hers way to find redemption.



So, the entry was removed. It was a good story.



I just wish I knew what had offended someone so much. I am more than amenable to edit, within plot: if I knew what had been so bad...



But I based it on a person and the lifestyle she leads, understanding what she'd want.

..



I just think it’s a pity a good story will be wasted to these pages.

As it is, it can now be found on



http://kendrixuk.blogspot.com/

I’m watching the last episode of the last series of ‘Doctor Who’ as I type this up. The Doctor is just being rejuvenated, prior to the big confrontation with the Doctor. And boy, those last two episodes together are as good as any film that’s been made in recent times, I think. And.. Anyway.. I digress. Once shopping was done, it was noticed there was no suet. And I do like my dumplings, do put on my light white and blue zip-up jacket and found my replacement gloves, as I lost my small tight black woollen pair yesterday. I went up the road and the Co-Op, but the only suet I could find was pure Beef and I heard my doctor talking of high-cholesterol, so left the shop.

After several coffees and a spell on VR I decided to widens my search field, in my quest, so I went to the village, in search of the Grail, oh I do like dumplings.

Though it was cold, I lit a smoke, inhaling it’s bitter blue-grey smoke as I strode out, in an effort to get warmer, as I flexed my fingers. It was a two blackcurrant sweet journey and soon I was homeward bound, with my Atora Light, vegetable suet in my pocket. The mission had been a success. I do like my dumplings.

I try to shop locally.. needless to say, I got home to find the postman had been and there's now a package waiting for me at the main office, as it's too big for the letterbox!

There was a training centre for the police in Bruche, Warrington.

It’s closed now.

There are several reasons for it closing, one of which was that it was shown to be teaching institutionalized racism. That and a dislike of the public, but I’m getting ahead of myself, as the latter is why I left.

I had joined The Greater Manchester Police Force, the second biggest in the country in 1979. It took me ages to get in, as I had to prove I wasn’t ‘colour-blind’ and I am: seventeen per cent colour deficient. But, I’d passed all but one the tests and got in.

The one I couldn’t pass was the dot-chart test. Yet, I’d got in. I’d even shaken the hand of the man who shook the hand of God, as the papers spoke of James Anderton the Chief Constable and ‘friend’ of ‘The Iron Lady’, Margaret Thatcher.

Shaking his hand had been like shaking a large moist toad and the fellow behind the hand wasn’t any more pleasant.

Yet, the uniform had fitted and fitted well.

Yet out of twenty that had joined, there were few left by the time.

“You’re now in ‘F troop’,” the sergeant had said: and smiled.

“And if anyone of you recall the t.v. series, you won’t be like them, you’ll be the best.”

And one has to wonder if that’s why so many left our group, so fast: or maybe it had something to do with the fellow who said, “It’s you against the public and they’re not going to win.” Maybe. Either way, in that first week before going to Bruche, I’d been sitting in class, on the third or fourth floor of central A division.

It’d been your typical classroom scenario, desks and blackboard and the fellow had droned on, so needless to say, I’d looked to my left.

I’d looked out the window and had seen Spiderman: the comic hero.

He’d been posing, for a photographer, in all the poses any fan know knows.

It’d been quite surreal, to see him there, yet there he had been.



..



Then awhile later, I’d learnt the rest. British Marvel had brought out his comic here and to promote it had needed stills of the hero and used Manchester, and the many flat-roofed buildings there, much like the one I’d sat in: and the one he posed for pictures on.



..



I hadn’t been a policeman long, just eleven days, but I had seen Spiderman.

Read from the bottom upward...





On 18:06:13 Dec 11 2007 Angelus wrote:



even worse when you're an ex-policeman.

people keep trying to kill you.



On 18:04:09 Dec 11 2007 ***** wrote:



*ponders*



humm



On 17:57:30 Dec 11 2007 Angelus wrote:



then get put in prison for selling cannabis, or live in the North of England.



**Grins**



On 17:56:13 Dec 11 2007 ***** wrote:



Oh I see now.

I've never heard that word lol.



On 23:43:40 Dec 10 2007 Angelus wrote:



slang for meal/food.

scran?

The left hand has been having physio for the last six months. The hand got damaged the same time as the back, in an incident with lifting a guy throwing a fit. And at the hospital today, I was told I'll be referred for an assesment, that could lead to surgery on it.

It’s early Sunday morning I sit here watching someone walk across custard as I find my USB, with the files I need. Brainiac’s test-tube baby is the show. Guess I can get back to my movie now. I mean, imagine a cross between ‘Halloween’ and ‘Congo’ and ‘The Blair Witch Project’ and you’ve an idea what this movie is like.

With all the stock characters, the jock, the nerd and the blonde, the brainy brunette and the probable hero: it’s just a tad surreal, so in a way, it’s the suitable way to end the night, as I’ve just left VR and my mind is still in full whirlygig mode. First off, I’d been talking with a nice Lady I like on YIM, who’s been seriously shat on, by someone she cares for. Well, needless to say, I know how she feels, so hoped she’d smile. But, YIM hadn’t liked us and through one wobbly after another, which I’d thought highly irksome. Eventually I’d managed to enjoy a conversation with my friend, before going to VR and rating and a discussion on abortion. Aye, I don’t do ‘chat’, yet do intense exceptionally well. And I had ended up chatting with a very nice Lady, who was kind to me; listening as I talked of the stuff I’ve learnt of late. And then it got worse; as it transpired that someone I’d spoken with earlier in the vampbox had hot a lady-friend of mine. And that’d been enough for me to hear, as I could stand no more, even though there were a few good people online at that time, who wanted to talk with me. So here I sit with slaughtered teenagers on screen thinking of the coming Christmas and a time of ‘goodwill to all men’ and I have to seek distraction and the film isn’t it. It just isn’t. And I wonder, do they have Christmas records in America, like we do here? Records that become pop anthems and very much a part of the Christmas we grow up, becoming part of the national consciousness. Tonight I’d seen two videos of those classics, which were a portent of the season to come. The first had been, ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day’, by the Group Wizzard; and the second had been ‘Merry Xmas Everybody’ by Slade. And maybe, just maybe the season will go well. But, were they the presage to the season, or was this evenings teachings? It’s a conundrum I’ll contemplate, as I continue to watch ‘Bloodmonkey.’

And the first kill was just made. Quel surprise, it’d been the blonde.

blue sky and four minutes of hail on a walk to the doctors.. very strange.. well that and green shoots on trees that had lost all their leaves. but wow.. the hail.. the green shoots on the trees.. it was a real 'good to be alive day'

So there I was on the way to the station as it poured down and I’d passed an elder fellow, who I hadn’t seen for awhile, who was using a stick.

“I haven’t seen you for ages,” I’d said and added, “nor using a stick.”

“I broke my hip,” he told me, “falling off my cycle.”

So we’d chatted as we went over the brow of the hill toward the station, just chatting.

He’d been pleased, to chat; pleased to have a smile and a hello, much as I had been months ago when a lady at a bus-stop had similarly greeted me.

Anyway.. then there’d been the illness on the train we’d been waiting for, so that was delayed. Then the ones just after it were delayed due to signalling problems and still it rained. Yet, finally I’d got to the church, located as a leaflet there described as: ‘Usually found at the corner of Percy Street, Huskisson Street & Catharine Street.

..

Primarily, it’s Catherine, not Catharine and it’s ‘usually’ found at the corner of Percy Street, Huskisson Street & Catharine Street. So, okay.. where’s it found the rest of the time?

..

And I nearly forgot that as I stood there doing the meal and clothes and.. Roger noticed that one of the big main, heavy doors is missing the top hinge, while the one below it has a crack on it. Land on your head and you’d know about it.

..

And you’d almost think I was becoming responsible, it was me who locked up this week, as Roger had forgotten his keys.

..

But, people had been fed.. and that’s why I go still go there, after all.

..

what's more, there was little to tidy outside the church, yet again!

..the day matches my mood, grey. But, I'm off to voluntary work soon: so the mood will change.

It’s a reason to be cheerful. I like feeling useful.

And though it’s a cruel world: It doesn’t cost anything to be kind.

..well there's a Life lesson. If you think about doing the windows, do the,

It stayed fine. But, by the time I decided to do them, after being on VR.. it was dark.

..

So, if there's something to do Now, do it!

Well, we finally have a sunny day and I'm still in my scruffs, having cleaned the silver. Well, it's my yearly chore and believe me, it needed being done.. and now there's windows to be done.. yet that, said if I stay here long enough it'll start to rain again and there'll be no more windows to be done.. so let's see what happens... ?

And then, a few hours later I recieved the following message..







'When I read what you write it makes me "feel".



This is rare.'





"I can't have babies by two women, can I??"





~ * ~

I just recieved this..

..

"I watched some of your videos and absolutly they are fantastic. Your voice and demeanor just pulled me in.



You sir are a creator!"

..

I want her babies..

..

Okay, it's an expression, stop smirking.



~ * ~

and this was someone who seemed to believe in "I Love You" until someone with a website started saying how good she was.

..

thats me being bitter.

a grey sky evening, with a marvellous sunset as the watery sun set, with a golden glow in the sky and I have just put another short porm up on Dailymotion.com..

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kendrix47, that's me!

England Experiences Sex-Selection Abortion Problems Among Indian Woman



by Steven Ertelt

LifeNews.com Editor

December 3, 2007





London, England (LifeNews.com) -- A researcher at Oxford University has discovered that the problem of sex-selection abortion isn't confined to Asian nations such as India. Women from India who have moved to the United Kingdom are engaging in the grisly practice there and nearly 1,500 girl babies are "missing" as a result.

Dr. Sylvie Dubuc, an Oxford statistician indicates that sex-selection abortions have resulted in the deaths of 1,500 girl babies who would have been born to Indian women living in England since 1990.



Dubuc found that the number of boys born in the Indian community there has become unnaturally skewed over time compared with the birth of girl babies.



The BBC examined Dubuc's data and found his analysis on target.



The British news service spoke with one British woman from India who already had three daughters. When she became pregnant again, doctors in England wouldn't divulge the sex of her baby without a medical reason.



The anonymous woman traveled to India where she relied on the services of black market ultrasound technology and found out she was pregnant with a girl baby.



"Unfortunately it was another girl," she told the BBC. "My husband and I thought the burden would probably be too much and the pressure when I got back home. So we decided to terminate."



It is impossible to know how many Indian women living in England are traveling back to their native country for sex-selection abortions, but the number appears to be significant given Dubuc's research.



Though the sex-selection abortions occur in India, the myriad of social problems that are associated with skewing the gender ratio will plague England.







Printed from: http://www.lifenews.com/int549.html



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I just saw the news and a piece about how Indian women in England are travelling to India, for a scan to se if their child is a girl: and if it is, to have it aborted. WTF!

This is in my country. A 'civilised' country!

I'd been incredulous to learn the extent of the problem, so hit 'Google' and just look what came up! What with securuty cameras everywhere, more laws to control our movements, under a Lavour government: and now this.



For 2007, see 1984

In all fairness I tried. Everything.. it seems she doesn't want to speak, saying in her journal she feels let down.

I can't say I blame her, really.

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And yes.. this is a public entry.. of course it is.. I'd jumped some some heftly conclusions, most of which had been unfair.

But, if you're not going to open up and keep secrets, suspicion blossoms, especially when you spend so long talking of another man, in such damn glowing terms.

I still haven't heard from her, since the 30th of November and that stupid night and even more stupid fight.. email msg and YIM, nothing.. and if I were in America, I'd call. As it is.. I'm here, quereous and frustrated.

Got talking with someone yesterday and a thought occured to me: tthe funniest thing is that those who often shout loudest about tolerance are those that are least prepared to show it.

outside it rains, as it has done much of the day.. and I still cross-legged, here on my armchair in the warm, wearing a white sweater and worn black jeans, reading of a texas sunset.

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"the day is fading into a texas sunset hues of red pink white and blue beautiful two turkey hens and seven turkey chicks eating at the corn feeder and one lone deer dogs barking in the back ground the smell of cedar decaying leaves and river the sky is going to be clear tonight one will be able to see the stars"



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it's good, when people share.

just seen 30 Days Of Night. It was certainly the distraction I need, right now: things don't seem to be going as well as I'd want.

and it certainly helped.

by the end of the film, I was breathless: I'd thought it was excellent and not at surprised to find out that Sam Raimi had a connection with it.

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For a film about Vampires, 30 Days Of Night is all about Humanity.

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I also found it interesting to note that something I'm writing was more prophetic that I'd first thought it might be.

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so there's more typing to do tonight, to try and get the damn thing finished!

It's very sunny, but showery.

I have been creative, the results on my portfolio here.. but, I can't stay in. I keep thinking of her...

Have you ever seen the film ‘the stuff’ A Larry Cohen film, starring Michael Moriarty and Andrea Marcovicci? If not, let me heartily recommend it if you ever-need to seriously unwind.

Well, that was early morning. Since then I’ve been a walk on a sunny blue-sky day to the village and back, then returned via the green of the common.

I’m calmer: and after some writing and a good deal of soul-searching have decided that I’m high-maintenance. The past and the ex’s have done their damage. I have allowed my Past to intrude on my present too much: and whoever caught any of my manic ramble last night, I’m sorry you joined me in my ‘museum of personal hurts’, particularly in the case of one individual thank you for letting me wet your shoulder lass.

I feel like tomorrow, or later today.. I will fnd myself more lonely than I was last week.

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it feels like someone I care for is moving further and further away, after returning from their two-week enforced sabbatical.

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I asked his name, I hadn't expected her to talk about him endlessly, for about twenty minutes. and, a long thread.

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I wanted her to be as special, as I found her.

then again, don't I always say that?

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as it is I feel it would be different, if I had money and or a website, that she could help with.

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or, both.

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but, he's married. So, of course it's got nothing to do with him, or his website, or the fact that he's the head of her coven.

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hey she might be right.. I might just be paranoid and it might all be me, but she stopped writing with me awhile back and then, little by little there was less put into the relationship.

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So, I doubt it.