A Lad from Featherstone

For the previous post press here. 'More than 1,000 reports of sexual abuse and harassment at UK McDonald’s, campaigners say Exclusive: ‘He texted me to say he was at home alone with just the kids. I just blocked his number. That resulted in him pulling his pants down in the stockroom where there were no cameras,’ says McDonald’s employee' Guardian: Saturday 20 July 2019. Rape and sexual assault reports from university students have risen tenfold with Cambridge University seeing some of the highest number of complaints in the country, an investigation has revealed. The “black-out drinking” culture is partly to blame, victims have warned as they reveal that they have been let down by a lack of systems in place to investigate and suspend alleged attackers. Daily Telegraph: 17 July 2019. As I said in an earlier post; Men Need sex For my next post, Sheila Gibbons live, click here.

For the previous post press here. The Lad from Featherstone was a very confused little boy. Sex part one I am 8 years old, home is a council house, Featherstone, West Yorkshire.   A mining town (5 pits and ‘slag heap’ taller than the Eiffel tower) population of 15, 000, famous for its Rovers Rugby team which had won many honours against the giants of the game.   My father was captain of the team.   These guys were mean. They also took amphetamine, but that’s for later. This particular evening my dad was ‘out’ doing what captains of rugby teams did then, and still do today, drinking and … I was watching telly, my two younger brothers asleep.   My mother, heavily pregnant shouts. ‘Colin, quick, get the phone number from the mantelpiece, go next door (we didn’t have a phone) and call the midwife.   I am going into labour’.   I felt my heart beating in my chest for the first time ever, my knees felt weak and I couldn’t breathe.   I ran found a scrappy piece of paper and ran next d

Somewhere between the age of 7 and 12 I used to sneak off with a; Raw Onion, Vinegar and Salt. Why I did it secretly I have no idea. Mainly my bedroom but in the fields sometimes. I would peel the onion layer by layer, filling, break the layer in half (best I could) and fill it with malt vinegar and salt. Sip it then eat it. The feeling was like... amazing. Does anyone have any idea what my body was craving, or more to the point why, did I do it in secret? Time to restart the journey folks. Lets say age 7 to 14. Back soon. Lambo