I posted a few days back about the time when my husband was away for 6 months and my Haters devised a plan to destroy me. They wanted to catch me in a threesome. With my two young children asleep in the house.
But they lacked certain facts. Like the FACT that the Officer Commanding of the Unit, Mr Green, had been my training officer in Chichester. Or the fact that it was HIM who’d given me the best recruit posting – to Berlin. Or the fact that he had taken me to one side during training and told me that I needed to go to Sandhurst to train as an officer. I refused.
LOL. ME? An officer? I’m a peasant.
The morning after that horrific night, Mr Green summoned me to his office and implored me to sue the perps for what they’d done. He even gave me the card of his own family lawyer and DEMANDED that I do as he said.
I refused. His reply?
Jackie – You have shown great dignity in all of this.
I swear to God that Frazer was a deeply entrenched Scottish Presbyterian.
Dour….rhymes with sewer.
I grew up with these Dour….rhymes with sewer…family members. My mother was afraid of NO-ONE. Except Lily. My paternal grandmother. Mum admitted that to me several times.
Me, myself & I am/are (?) more of an Epicurean.
Eat. Drink. And be Merry. For tomorrow we die.
I KNOW this to be true. In real life. My Mum was there one day. Gone the next.
You can be the healthiest, fittest, most sober, most select person in the whole world but get on a bike or in a car or on a plane or walk down the street and it’s……Oh. Pearly Gates, eh? Hi, St. Peter. WTF am I doing here?
Never go to bed on an argument with loved ones. NEVER disrespect/denigrate/deny/dispose of dearly loved ones.
Talking of FEY. I was living in Ulster with an 18 month old and newly pregnant when an urge came upon me to go home. I HAD to go home. No hindsight here. My Mum and I had been estranged for over a year with no contact but -still – this feeling was strong. I KNEW that it would be the last time that I’d see someone in the family. I thought it was Nan (Nana-Anne as my boys called her.)
So I went home for a week. Told my parents that they were going to have their second grandchild in 7 months.
6 weeks later my Mum died very suddenly.
Don’t be an egotistical/I’m always right/what the eff do you know? arse.
Wagatha Christie? This cracks me up every time I hear it :o)
Rebekah’s story came the other day. Now this is Coleen’s side.
I knew nothing about it when it was all happening but I’m watching now because of a total, brutal sync with my own life.
Long Story – upshot of which was my total humiliation in front of the entire CP Training Company
The people I lived with on a small camp. The people I worked with – The CP Training Wing – and those who were a small but select group of close friends.
My husband? He was away on a 6 month tour guarding some British Ambassador in some effed up country.
The highest ranking man in the company, the Officer Commanding, saved me that night from the planned double rape or (what they thought they’d capture…..) me having a threesome with the babysitter and my next door neighbour.
The O.C. even gave me the number of his own lawyer and told me to take the WOMAN (my next door neighbours wife!!!!) who’d done all this to court for defamation of character.
Well Done, Coleen. Like I’ve always told my husband and my sons – BEWARE OF WOMEN. SOME OF THEM ARE TRULY EVIL!
Altered Images were a Glasgow band from the ’80’s and their song Happy Birthday was a favourite of mine.
Day After Tomorrow is my late Mum’s birthday.
Next month BFF & I will reach an iconic birthday….though hers is exactly 3 weeks before me :o)
Yeah. She knows. Having been BFF’s since we were both 11, I may have mentioned it once or twice (!)
Bloody Scorpios. Tchss!
One day – when me and she reach 100 – we WILL celebrate like this. Because everyone’ll think we’re old and demented.
Apropos of nothing – I HATE OCTOPUSSIES. Himself used to snorkel off the Rock of Gibraltar and catch the horrible things. Once he brought one home and put it in my freezer. The bastard sea creature squirted black ink everywhere. Calamari? I’d rather eat all four of my car’s tyres, thank you very much.
Oh and btw : Travis are Scottish too & poor wee Greta is still aLive&KicKinG arse.
I made Himself watch this one this morning after yet another “discussion.”
He said : Yehyeh. Nigerians. Car accident. Love Rat. Asks for money. I’ve been down Scam Street in Lagos.
I then got very antsy. Yes. Our first company office was in Port Harcourt, Nigeria and we were put through many a money scam. The favourite at the time had to do with bunkering the ships we needed for the off-shore close protection of gas and oil workers.
At $250,000 a time….that would suddenly go missing and then necessitated my many hours on the phone to the bank (after paying the standard £25 fee) to ask for a money trace and getting nowhere……….FACT!
It didn’t take too long to find out the scam. The fuel all went into a hidden bunker under the bunker and then we’d have to pay again to fuel the ship. Easy money. $500,000 later.
So. This scam is quite normal to us and I told him to watch and learn how the long, complicated con can be worked. Way outside Scam Street.
As if I’d be so stupid enough to show him something common and all too well known.
This Hustle is truly brilliant. Sadly.
P.S. We were paid in $. And paid out in $ converted to GPB. At the daily exchange rate. I became an expert XE watcher and had to send many an email to a nasty employee accusing me (personally) of stealing their wages from them…..with me pointing out I DON’T CONTROL THE INTERNATIONAL BANKING SYSTEM.
The OC, having lost two technicians that morning, decided on “Phoenix“. This was misheard as “Felix” by the signaller and was never changed. The other possible reason is that the callsign for RAOC was “Rickshaw”; however, the 321 EOD felt it needed its own callsign, hence the deliberate choice of “Felix the Cat with nine lives”. 321 Coy RAOC (now 321 EOD & Search Sqn RLC) is the most decorated unit (in peacetime) in the British Army with over 200 gallantry awards, notably for acts of great bravery during Operation Banner (1969–2007) in Northern Ireland.
I knew them as Felix. From my time in Londonderry. We’d often call in Felix – the Cat With 9 Lives.
There is an amazing Lebanese restaurant right beside the fountains. When we were there and asked where we wanted to go and eat – we chose that place.
Their humus was to die for.
But the restaurant was dry. As in zero alcohol. But we knew where to go. Around the fountains, through the arch, down the arcade and BINGO. A bar where you could smoke and that had ICE-COLD Guinness on tap.
One night I left him and her (brother and sister) in the bar and walked back to the fountains.
They were playing this……….
Buttinski – we were living in the Burg Khalifa at the time. A little walk away via the Dubai Mall. OH. And they both shouted at me for disappearing. Sigh.
I have personal experience here. Via my husband who (to this day) is the longest serving RMP Close Protection Unit trainer ever.
I also worked for the M.O.D. as Admin Officer to the training wing of the RMP Close Protection Unit. I was their back up when the paper work/training schedules/incoming news went awry
We were primarily military but our bosses were the FCO.
Lee was NEVER CPU trained. He NEVER served abroad on a CPU team protecting a British Ambassador in a WAR ZONE.
He’s protected Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman and Sly Stallone. And such like.
We know men that we had at the CPU who went to Fayed’s CP team to make easy money. The man was a bleep according to our contacts. He was bigger than royalty and much more important.
This is a true story of someone making money off someone else.
She just happened to be called Diana.
P.S. My husband often refuses to wear a seat belt. It annoys me no end. But that’s part of his training and IRL experience.
Lee, ex-Royal Military Policeman, martial arts champion, private military contractor and expert in close protection, added that it was standard practice for the family to wear seatbelts, an order sent down from Mohamed Al-Fayed.
He made the comments while discussing his new book, ‘The Bodyguard’, about his life as an expert in close protection, calling it ‘the story of the real bodyguard’.
Over the course of his career, Lee worked with the rich and famous, such as Hollywood stars Tom and Nicole, Pele, and Sylvester Stallone, and in the book he gives a candid account of what it’s like to work in a job where lives are literally at stake.
At the time of Diana’s death, he was a part of Mohamed Al-Fayed’s protection team, the owner of Hôtel Ritz Paris and formerly Harrods department store and Fulham FC.
P.S. I just keep hearing one song. From the film The Bodyguard. Going back to Dubai Fountains and another REAL LIFE experience.
The seventeenth book to feature the classic crime-solving detective, Chief Inspector Wexford.
A by-pass is planned in the sleepy village of Kingsmarkham, a move that would destroy its peace and natural habitat forever. Wexford’s wife Dora joins the protest movement, but Wexford must be more circumspect. Trouble is expected.
Before the protesters even have a chance to make their presence felt, the badly decomposed body of a young woman is discovered. Burden believes he knows the identity of the murderer, but Wexford is not convinced.
Just as Wexford is about to investigate the murder, a number of people disappear – including Dora Wexford. The Chief Inspector must battle with his powerful emotions and solve the case immediately, before his wife is placed in any mortal danger…
I’m more on this vibe in the vid below :o)
P.S. I live with a UK POLICE TRAINED ADVANCED DRIVER. My Dad was one. And so is my brother. TRUTH.
We lived just over a handful of miles from Wilton House – twice.
I used to visit it. An amazing place. A visit now would make it even more amazing for me !
Why Wilton House?
Here’s where I first met Sir Philip Sidney.
The house was owned by the Earl of Pembroke – husband of Sidney’s sister, Mary.
I swear that it’s here (but my brain may be faulty!!!) that there is an astonishing portrait of Henri Quatre, King of France, husband of Marie de Medici and father of Louis XIII and Henriette Marie, right at the top of a staircase.
Now there’s a nice link :o)
P.S. At about 25 seconds into the video below you’ll see a bridge. I remember VIVIDLY standing there and watching the water flow underneath.
Way back when I was a kid (around 11/12) my Dad was on a huge child murder enquiry that took him away from home for weeks.
At the time Mum worked in the restaurant (where I went to work aged 13) next door to us and every Thursday – her late shift – my brothers and I would come home from school, get washed and changed and go to the restaurant for our tea.
I ALWAYS chose gammon, pineapple and chips. Something we very rarely had at home.
On the menu tonight, plus the egg, plus petits pois, because I can…….
P.S. My traveller-in- crime girl is a pina colada fan. Whereas I prefer a Bloody Mary. Sweet is she. Sour am I :o)
This is a smell that was part of my life for a few years.
I was once told as a child that every country has it’s own smell. Well – UAE smells of oud.
Everywhere you go, they burn this incense. I bought loads home with me, along with charcoal blocks. My traveller-in-crime and I even got lost and abandoned in the souk in Old Dubai searching for the best oud. Absolute True Truth.
Recently I came across the product above on ama z on. Nag Champa has been my go to incense for almost a quarter of a century so I knew it’d be good.
WOW. The house smells like the Middle East right now :o)
We watched this this morning and I learned something new!
Katina eats an Ulster Fry….a big one. Yeah. Whooopppeee. It makes her famous.
Way back in the day when eldest was 18 months old and we lived in Ulster and Himself was in charge of the G.O.C’s protection team, working a 20 hour day……..me and the little ‘un used to go exploring.
OMG. Nobody told me at the time that taking the train from Lisburn to Belfast for a jolly day out was #banned by a “wife of.”
Me and my baby son did it regularly.
He’s just had a truly explosive moment about my life without him in Ulster.YOU DID WHAT?
Baby and I loved it. But in those days an Ulster Fry was sausage, bacon, eggs, beans in a separate bowl (NEVER on the plate) and soda bread.
The NI peeps have strange customs. NEVER had a waste bin in the house. Kitchen bin always outside the back door. Didn’t display knick-knacks in house. Never tainted a meal with baked bean juice. Loved the colour ORANGE (check that out???)
I loved Belfast. The people were great. The city is awesome………….oops :o)
Note to Self : Buy some Bicarb of soda to make soda bread next week.
Done this absolute true life thing too many times before.
MY first viewing of this film was on a night duty at Checkpoint Bravo in Berlin.
This was the entrance into Berlin from Checkpoint Alpha in Helmstedt (did duty there too!) via what we called The Corridor. Which was a long autobahn with no speed limits. YAY. Drove it. Scared myself stupid at over 100 miles an hour.
At Bravo there was a long desk. Us Brits (two) were at the beginning. Two US MP in the middle. Two French MP at the end of the desk.
Mick – my oppo – brought in a portable TV one night and we all watched.
I’ve spent too long doing this stuff. Just to have it all ripped apart by the “We Always Win” crew.
Nah. Not any more, mes braves.
Go back. Go way, way back to my posts from 2018/2019 when I tear the Romans apart. Especially Julius Caesar and all that crap.
HIS – story is real. It’s all HIS Story. When you dive deep into Fomenko and New Chronology and actually try to debunk them for over a decade. You’ll understand from whence I come.
Who drove a Spear into Christ’s side when he was on the cross?
And WHO one was of the killers of Julius Caesar?
Et tu Bruti?
Et tu Gaius Cassius Longinus?
And none of this has anything to do with Russia – the country as we know it today.
AEWAR has fallen down the same hole, methinks.
And yes. I’m overly sensitive right now. That’s the lot of a REAL EMPATH who FEELS every single knife/arrow/spear on their soul.
Apparently Herr A. Hitler was desperate to obtain the Spear of Destiny so that he could have magical power uber alles. And we all know how that ended. Follow a MYTH, disprove a myth.
NC postulates that the man known as Julius Caesar is a “reflection” of the myth known as “Jesus.”
I’m in my own private Circle of Hell chez Dante right now.
Or just keep on taking the piss out of me.
So over y’all :o)
P.S. Try looking into Wagner and Parsifal or Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival or The Bleeding Spear of the Grail Castle or The Fisher King with his thigh stuck by a spear or Chiron the wounded or ? ? ?
My maternal family have been in Norfolk for centuries. We KNOW this via my second cousin Janet who did the whole family ancestry thing in church/parish/family/public records.
Why the excitement?
Ha. Twofold excitement.
I know a little about the History of my country. Even Roman History.
The ancient Catalans or Catalauni were one of the founding peoples of Gaul. However, in this article we will find that they were also from the British Isles. The supposed British tribe of the Catuvellauni or Catuvellans, is actually a branch of the people of the Catalauni or Catalans of Gaul that split due to the arrival of the people of the Belgians in their territory, in the area of the current Champagne (former Catalan or Catalaunian Plains).
The Catuvellauni were a Norfolk Tribe of “Ancient Brits”
Then we have the link with Norfolk and an ongoing obsession of mine (if you’ve been with me from the start, you’ll know this)
This was the first of a five part series, indie published in 2014 and a total bomb blast for me. It’s made me a fortune of about £40 in 8 years.
George Villiers was brilliant character to write. To me he was Marie de Rohan’s counterpart. Two sides of one coin. Friends and cohorts but never lovers. She saw right through him….and vice versa.
After Marie (the protagonist) Wat Montagu was my all time favourite person to write. He was Villiers’ spy, friend, punching bag and a man who fell in love at first sight of Marie de Rohan. He’d’ve died for her and almost did (more than once.)
Wat was in France when the Siege of La Rochelle happened. He watched Richelieu commanding the French army and felt torn.
Whilst Marie (French) was nominally Catholic, her uncles were Huguenots or Protestant, like Wat. And she did whatever she had to do when in France or England. No worries either way.
Eventually Wat left England and became a Catholic priest in France. Richelieu’s influence, brilliance, razor-sharp mind had obliterated all of his younger self. England, Marie, his family, Protestantism – none of that mattered to him anymore. Although he still supported and tried to help Henriette Marie after the execution of Charles I Stuart and her exile from England under Cromwell.