Mother Reports her Vicious Sons to Police

Mother shops sons to cops and sends them to jail for vicious attack
A mother tells today how she sent her two vicious sons to jail - and urges other parents to do the same.
Carol Saldinack, 51, shopped booze-fuelled Luke Newman, 27, and Oliver Clark, 24, to police after learning that they battered a dad for no reason, blinding him in one eye.
Later, the thugs were jailed at Chichester, West Sussex, for two years for GBH.
Mum-of-six Carol Say's "I felt nothing but guilt after I hung up the phone.

"But if you feel you can cope with the consequences, speak up and tell the truth."
Victim Marc Parkinson, 36, said: "It was a very brave thing to do."
Today, as the louts start a two-year sentence for GBH, the mum-of-six has paid a heavy price - her children have disowned her and she lives in fear from threats. But she has no regrets.
Instead, she declared: "I'd urge anyone who finds themselves in this situation to search their own heart and do the right thing.
"Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, friends - someone always knows who's responsible for things like this. They need to come forward.
"Think of the victim's family and their hell. If you feel you can cope with the consequences, speak up and tell the truth."
Newman, Clark and Benjamin Hammond, 25, launched an unprovoked attack on dad-of-two Marc Parkinson, 36, outside a takeaway after a night drinking in Chichester, West Sussex.

Left: Marc Parkinson, Right: Brothers Oliver and Luke
Mr Parkinson had a detached retina, extensive bruising and cuts, a perforated eardrum and bruised ribs. He is now blinded in one eye.
Fighting back tears Carol, 51, who lives in Norfolk, said: "I found out from a relative that Oliver and Luke had been bragging they'd done it.
"Luke was apparently walking around with a newspaper report of the attack as if it was a trophy.
"I felt felt angry, appalled, shocked and sickened. All I could think was 'This man might die, my sons could be killers'.
"In minutes I rang police and said 'About the fight in Chichester, I know who's responsible'.
"I was asked how I knew. I replied 'Because they're my sons'." Newman and Clark's homes were raided the next day.
Traces of Marc's blood were discovered on a shoe. Witnesses identified the pair in line-ups.
Despite living apart from her angry family, Carol is convinced she did the right thing.
She said: "It's been hell. Not being able to see my children is gut-wrenching. I love them all. I felt nothing but guilt after I hung up the phone. But I had to make that call.
"Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing. But knowing how this man suffered, and that my own flesh and blood did that, there was no way I could have kept it to myself.
"If I'd ignored it would have been as if it was OK. I couldn't let my children think I supported such disgusting behaviour.
"My boys needed to take responsibility. If they weren't prepared to do it themselves, it was up to me to see that they did. If I had to, I'd do it all over again."
Carol missed her sons' appearance at Chichester crown court as she could not bear to hear the details. Hammond was also jailed for two years.
Now, as violence daily blights the streets of Britain, the mum is appealing to other parents not to ignore their children's unruly behaviour.
She said: "There are too many stories of people being killed in mindless acts of violence.
"Everyone blames the government. But we all know the difference between right and wrong.
"We should look at our own lives and how we bring up our children - that's where I think the answers are."
Marc has been left with depression and severe headaches. His business folded and he had to sell his home to pay off debts.
Yesterday he hailed Carol, saying: "It was a brave thing to do. If she persuades just one parent to do the same it will have been worthwhile."
Investigating detective Kim Cinch said: "It was a difficult decision for Carol and has caused all kinds of backlash."
Carol now yearns to be be reunited with her family.
She said: "I hope one day they'll understand why I did what I did. I doubt it will ever happen - but that's what I wish more than anything."
Did Carol do the right thing?

Vest say's yes, Carol did the right thing, despite the fact she will be on a good little earner. (News story)
Maybe Carol will migrate to Australia with a new identity

Public Exposure for "Cheating, two timer" as 200 posters of his bottom appear in hometown

Public exposure for “cheating, two-timer” as 200 posters of his bottom appear in hometown

A man from County Durham got a real bum deal after 200 posters showing his bare bottom were plastered on walls, lampposts and bus stops throughout his hometown.
The rear view snaps show the 40-year-old mooning and accuse him of being a “Lying, Cheating, Two-timing ARSEHOLE!”
Pasha Cummings of Seaham suspects his recently-emigrated ex-wife Carol may be responsible for – or rather, behind – the street spamming, but she denies the allegation.
Pretty solid detective work, really. Unless there are several more likely candidates with access to pictures of Pasha’s posterior before they were circulated around Seaham.


Still, at least he didn’t have his bank account cleaned out to pay for his public humiliation. In December 2006 an unidentified woman from Birmingham splashed out £2,500 to bawl out her cheating husband by billboard poster, emptying out their joint bank account.
See pictures of the hoarding on her myspace profile HERE.

Flying Penis bashed, Both Donkey and Hon Member wind up in the slammer

Former chess supremo and Kremlin critic Garry Kasparov must have felt like a pawn in a larger political game after a speech he was giving last weekend was interrupted by a radio-controlled flying penis.
The below-the-belt disruption is thought to be a real world copycat version of a similar, virtual attack perpetrated in December 2006 by cyber vandals in the multiplayer online world ‘game’, Second Life. According to the Moscow Times, the prank was staged by "a couple of pro-Kremlin Young Russia activists".
Around 500 fellow opponents of the Kremlin were in attendance for Kasparov’s address to unite opposition political forces at a rally in Moscow when the helicopter rotor-assisted member made an unscheduled appearance.
The unconventional chopper buzzed around to spatterings of applause for around 20 seconds before a minder bashed it to the ground.
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Donkey jailed for assault and battery.
Seems as if the law is an ass in southern Mexico after a donkey has been banged up in a human jail for biting and kicking two men near a ranch in Chiapas.
Officer Sinar Gomez said: "Around here, if someone commits a crime they are jailed, no matter who they are."
Police said that it took six men to subdue the buck-teethed bruiser on Sunday after it bit a 63-year-old man in the chest and kicked another man, fracturing the 52-year-old's ankle.
Promising that the assaulting animal will stay locked up until owner Mauro Gutierrez coughs up for the men’s medicals bills, Officer Gomez did not confirm whether he was prepared to wait donkey’s years.
In March, a bull was incarcerated by Chiapas cops for eating corn crops and destroying two vending stands.
Central coast NSW. OZstrayer, Our former State member of parliament gets a minimum of nine years in the slammer. His pedophile activities were well known by his colleagues prior to his arrest early last year. Today Morris Iemma the State premier was passing the hat around( nothing less than $100.00 bills) accepted for the benefit of former MP Milton Orkopoulos's family, who have fallen on hard times having sold their property since his arrest.
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For many years prior to migrating to Strayer, my family lived near Portsmouth ( Pompey)where 'er indoors' was born.
Fratton Park was the home ground for the Portsmouth football club (or Soccer; an Oz cliche)
I reckon the last time I went there 40 years back I could name most of the players in the team.
Not any more mate, now watching them beat Blackburn Rovers in the FA Cup Semi Final had me confused as I had not seen the teams before as I am not an avid soccer follower.
Blackburn Rovers had Six coloured players in their Eleven, but Portsmouth could only manage One White guy in their eleven; the goal keeper; who, apparently was a foreigner too.
I shall probably get hit with a 'Racist bastard tag for noticing the old home town ain't wot it used ter be.
Today I spent time in the garden farting around doing silly things also getting some fresh air and exercise, it had rained overnight so all the watering had been done-so I did a bit of weeding,
planted veggie seeds and fed the visiting 'One legged pigeon'.
I am not altogether yet, but hopefully in a couple of days I'll be back visiting you all again.

Ta fer now Vest.

Israel may struggle for peace, but its Sex Trade is Flourishing,The Daily Gaggle correspondent Izzy Dave reports from Tel Aviv.

Yitzhak was lucky to get the parking spot along Tel Aviv's fashionable Ben Yehuda Street. It was after all thursday night and the traffic was bustling. Rolling up the windows of his Ford Sierra, he tossed his newspaper in the child's seat; pulled out his phone and called his home. " Hi Honey, I'm just going to pick up some groceries and head home". then walking passed the flower shop and the supermarket he he headed into a seemingly innocuous apartment building proclaiming the words"Mo'adon Briut" or Health Club. Yitzhac entered the foyer, decorated in red velvet and yellow lights, where four scantily dressed women sat smoking and drinking tea. Yitzhak pointed to a well-endowed blonde female, well into her forties. The woman took Yitzhak into a back cubicle, complete with massage table and adorned with sexy pin-ups,for the sales pitch. "Hi Sweetie," she began in a heavy Russian accent, "My name is Lana. A blow job is 120 shekels straight sex is 100 shekels, a bisexual show is 150 shekels and two women will cost you 250 shekels."
Ten minutes later Yitzhak gets a kiss from Lana as he hands her a 20 shekel tip and emerges from the health club zipping his pants and checking his wallet is still in his back pocket.
On that summer Thursday night in Tel Aviv, Yitzhak just happened to be one of the many hundreds of Israeli men who escaped work or wives in order to pay for sex. Prostitution, has become an Israeli national pastime and obsession. Next to the stock market and the diamond business, it is one of Israels fastest growing industries. And, many fear, it is a time-bomb waiting to go off in a country renowned for explosions.
Tel Aviv, once a sleepy town by the sea, has always been the centre of Israeli night life but has now become Israels sexual capital where street walkers, call girls and lap dancers service a clientele ranging from husbands to Rabbis, soldiers to guest workers. this growth industry plus sado-masochistic brothels and sex clubs advertise in Israels most prominent newspapers, offering every thing from phone sex in Arabic to large Russian bisexuals for 300 shekels an hour.
"Its absolutely incredible." claims a cynical Tel Aviv detective, Imagine hookers placing adds in the London and the New York Times. This doesn't happen anywhere than this nuthouse of a country,"( obviously he has never read the Sydney daily telegraph and the local rag Express bi wkly.)
"Each night I bring with me a carton of 60 condoms.' claims Michal, a seasoned pro with a battered face who works the twisted alleyways behind the bustling Ramat Gan stock exchange. "When the carton is empty, I've made my nights fill and then I go home.
Perhaps even more interesting than the women(and men in drag) Who sell themselves in Tel Aviv are their clients. A good percentage of the men are Ultra Orthodox Jews, pious men who follow the Halacha, the law that guides Jewish life, including when a man can and cannot have sex with his wife: the Halacha also dictates that these men cannot be with 'harlots' in their own city.
So, on Thursday afternoons (boy's night out in Israel), bus loads of Ultra Orthodox Jews travel from Jerusalem, Haifa and points beyond to Tel Aviv for a few moments of passion in a massage parlour, behind a sand dune or in an alleyway.
Others are soldiers, 18-year old conscripts and 50 year old reservists heading home to wife and kids from a stint along the Lebanese border. others are accountants, teachers and lawyers, policemen and politicians.
At the other end of the spectrum is Tel Aviv's seaside and ultra-chic Ha Yarkon street where there is a 200 shekel a trick massage parlour next door to the labor party HQ. last June the pm went there for a meeting with his ministers , the masseuses at the Establishment asked the bodyguards to move their bullet proof cars as it was turning customers away.
Arab prostitutes in order to survive need to service both sides of the Arab-Israeli equation, though some find their Jewish customers only come to them after some major incident involving terrorism in order to get their own brand of sexual revenge.
The question arises, was all that pandemonium in the forties really a rush to get to the land of everlasting bonking?.

ISRAEL WILL BECOME SIXTY YEARS OLD TODAY

AT MIDNIGHT on the 14th day of the merry month of May in 1948, the British Mandate of Palestine became the State of Israel. From that time onward to the present, it has been engaged in bitter conflict with its Arab neighbours. Never before in the history of Great Britain has such joy been experienced by the the ceding of Palestine to its new mob of incompetent administrators.
In 30 hours of posting this , Israel 's citizens will be doing a count down at midnight to celebrate the 60th year of the state of Israel , But sadly the rest of the world will wonder for what, what have they achieved apart from keeping the friction with their neighbours on the boil for sixty bloodthirsty years. Sorry if you disagree, but that is how I see it. Much publicity about the Exodus goings on prior to this event have been experienced recorded and written about. also a poorly made film made its appearance describing the trials and tribulations of the thousands of European Jews, and their efforts to get to the promised land. There were several British warships involved with the onerous task of controlling the intake of these distressed people. The main reason for the UN sanctioned number of 1,000 arrivals to Palestine per month was simply a logistical exercise of trying ones best to find food shelter and jobs for these people, this was a matter for strict expediency , or lose total control of the situation. the system worked in principle , however, a few so called illegal migrants ships flying the White Star of David managed to break the blockade. Many ships of various sizes were stopped and boarded by crews from the Brit Navy ships, those young sailors were not a bunch of fascist bastards but gentle and caring in the way they performed their tasks, I was personally involved on five occasions, and the largest ship boarded was the 'Pan Crescent' which with the 'Pan York' had sailed from a Bulgarian port in the Black Sea, each of these ships carried 7,000 souls., I was one of the twelve in the boarding crew. The vast majority of these unfortunate souls wound up in camps on the island of Cyprus to await their turn for their final journey to the promised land. The last British warship to leave Palestine from the port of Haifa, was the 8,000 ton Colony class Cruiser the HMS Mauritius; commanded by Capt (Lord) Ashbourne R N, and of course yours truly who listened to the sound of pinging bullets and the whanging of our torn berthing wires being ripped from the bollards on the dockside as we departed that rainy morning on Palestine's final day. Shalom. VEST.
For more info, Google. 'The Recognition of the State of Israel' also 'Pan York and Pan Crescent'.

Remembering My Dear Mother

Looking back , my first recollection of my dear Mother was around the age of four shortly after daddy died at the age of forty in 1929 during the great depression ; leaving behind a brood of two sons: Christopher six and myself and Sister Ruth two.

After being shunted from one relative to another we finally arrived at Dr Barnardo's Homes, from where soon after Chris and I were fostered out to a family at Chalgrove in Oxfordshire, it was also the last time I would see my sister Ruth until fourteen years later.

My next contact with mother after a period of four years although not physical as the brief visitation lasted less than an hour due to the dissension between mother and foster mother, resulted in us being removed back to Barnardo's Homes, after which Chris was sent to Watts Naval College at the age of eleven and I followed him there a year later on Wed 16: Dec: 1936, aged then ten years five months; after having been fostered for a year in Cambridgeshire. Later in Jan 1941 Chris joined Royal Navy at sixteen and a half years of age.

During the summer of 1941 after another absence -this time of six years, Mother visited the naval college with her new husband ( who was indeed a saintly person whom I admired for his continuing sufferance to the end of his years in 1973).

Six months passed and I was sent to join the Royal Navy Wed: 7: Jan: 1942, I was 15 years and five months of age and my next contact with my dear mother was in 1947 long after the war had ended. So from the age of five until twenty one, my total contact with my loving mother over fifteen years had been approx Four Hours. My brother Christopher did not make contact with Mother ever again. Despite of all the past misgivings I still maintained a respect for my Mother and remained in contact over the years until coming to Australia in 1971.

However, blood being thicker than water, we paid for Mother's visits to Australia from England

In 1974, 75 and 77 when she stayed for about two months on each occasion. It was a shame she had little tact and was so intolerable.

In July 1983 we received a letter from England informing us Mother had passed away on the 20th of July, the day before her 86th birthday.



An excerpt from my memoirs follows.

My mother’s last visit was full of problems. I had picked her up at the airport in Sydney at 6:30 am on a Sunday morning. During the trip back she kept saying, “Watch this, watch that” and “How long now?” It was piddling down with rain. I thought the only people daft enough to be on the road in this weather on a Sunday would be devout Catholics on their way to mass. Then it happened. My Ford Cortina wagon was halfway through the lights on the Parramatta road at Concord near ‘Cullen Motors,’ a busy intersection, when the blessed gear lever came away in my hand.
Mother asked, “Why are we stopping? Just keep moving and stop all that swearing.” I was stuck in first gear, so I put the hazard lights on. Braking hard by the side of the road, we shuddered to a stop. I explained my problem to an enquiring police officer. I then went to find a phone that hadn’t been vandalised, which took some time. No one answered the phone at home. While trying to retrieve my money, I found far more money than I expected. A tow truck arrived within minutes of my call. Back at the car, my eighty-year-old mother was creating hell for the copper and waving her cane at him. I told the police officer she was my mother and was just starting a six-week holiday with me. He replied, “You poor blighter. You have my deepest sympathy.”
The trip home took about thirty minutes. Mother whined all the way. When we arrived home, the noise we created unshackling the tow awakened my family. Our large Bitser dog had a dissident attitude to unknown visitors. After it saw me alight from a truck dishevelled and in a long raincoat, it flew at me. Fortunately, it grabbed my shoe. My other shoe caught it in the goolies and it went off yelping. All this frightened the life out of my mother.
She said, “If my stay is going to be like this, I’m going back home.” My mother decided to put up with the pain of staying with us (or was it the other way around?) The children, who enjoy a bit of mischief now and then, were never able to get along with my mother. My Rosemary, who was painfully polite to my mother, told me, “Never again!”
My attempts at diplomacy concerning my mother failed miserably. I began to feel guilty that I couldn’t make my mother happy during her stay. My mother’s ‘holier than thou’ dogmatic attitude always won hands down.
I often wondered how the poor people sitting next to her for twenty-four hours in a plane felt. The last time my mother departed, the flight was held up for three hours. The whole family waited five hours. After she left, we all felt relieved.
Sickness and incontinence kept my mother in the UK until her passing on 20 July 1983, the day before her eighty-sixth birthday.

I shed a few private tears. After all, she was my mother.

Vest. Have a loving 'Mother's Day.'

Our New Lawn Mower is a Catholic.

Our aged lawn mower St- yu Bastd; purchased in 1996 would have been 84 years of age had it been a dog. (don't worry it gets better)The sinews of our right arms have been stretched to the limits during our futile attempts to wake it from its monthly slumber, and a last minute kiss of life attempt to resurrect the octogenarian lazarus failed. Last Saturday, S Y B was wheeled into the shed to await its fate.The new kid on the block is a four stroke( wait for it) 'POPE' Meteor.I expect there will be a eccleslastical clause in its start up procedure, like a clasping of hands and a glance to the heavens. I shall now read the instructional manual, for tomorrow will be its Baptism when we name it 'HIS HOLINESS' and it is sent off to scourge the world of grass and weeds that thrive in our gardens.

Will Your Picture Cost Thousands Of Your Hard Earned?

Facebook scam casting its net

Fraudsters have found a fresh hunting ground - online networking sites.
It was only a matter of time, considering that the two largest - Facebook and MySpace - have around 200 million users between them.
Ripe pickings for canny conmen, like the crooks who say they've seen your picture and profile and you're perfect for a career in modelling or acting.


Naturally, there's a price, as Peter Sidnell from Tiverton in Devon discovered after posting his details on dating site Faceparty.
He was contacted by Rachel, who claimed to be from a promotions company called Trident that represents Coca-Cola. Rachel insisted Peter was wanted as one of their faces for a new billboard campaign at Heathrow.
DODGY PAYMENT: And dodgy spelling
After Peter expressed an interest he received a NatWest banker's draft for £4,700. Very nice.
But it came with a twist. He was told to pay it into his bank account, keep 20 per cent as his modelling fee, and send £3,760 to a so-called agent. Rachel didn't explain why Coca-Cola couldn't pay its own agents. Nor did she explain why a global company would insist on payment not by credit card but Western Union.
Money transfer companies such as Western Union are loved by fraudsters because they can collect their loot in cash without leaving a paper trail. Yet another mystery - Rachel claimed to work for a firm that represented a global brand, yet she gave a Yahoo email address.
She claimed to work in central London, but when we sent her an anonymous email it was opened in Nigeria. Which may explain why whoever filled in the cheque spelt "thousand" as "thounsand".
Then Rachel got pushy. "You will deposit the cheque tomorrow, it should take 2-3 days to clear so you should be sending the money on Monday/Tuesday next week," she ordered Peter by email. We showed the banker's draft to NatWest - it was counterfeit.
And a spokesperson for Coca-Cola said: "We have no knowledge of, or affiliation, with this organisation, Trident Incorporated."
At least Peter isn't surprised to learn that he'll not be the next face of Coca-Cola. He said "I was sure it was a scam, others aren't so lucky."
Equity knows of hopeful models and actors who have lost hundreds of pounds to cybercriminals who demand up-front fees to join casting agencies.
Vest Say's, they mainly target girls on MySpace and Facebook and tell them they'll be the next big thing, then they ask for money to join a so-called agency but never get any work.
The entertainments industry is a magnet for every third-rate crook because it so easy, it costs so little to set up these scams and they know they won't be penalised.
Get sound advice on any quick money dealings, double check or check at your local bank.

Assisting younger people to lead a healthier life, Reaps a 2 Billion dollar tax bonus for Govt Coffers.

Supposedly concerned about the rise in 'Binge Drinking' among the younger set, the Government has jacked up the booze tax on most boutique flavoured fizzy alcohol drinks.

Reading Sue Dunlevy's column (OPINION) in yesterday's Friday May 2, Sydney Daily Telegraph, Sue Dunlevy commenced her story with the following statement.



My nine year old instantly spotted the flaw in the Governments new preventive health tax on 'Alco-Pops' -" if it's going to stop people drinking then how come it's raising $2 Billion for the Government"?

"If they want to stop people drinking alcopops why don't they just ban them?" she asked.



Vest Say's "Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings comes the truth".



To read more of this article, go to Sydney Daily Telegraph and click on the 'OPINION pages dated Friday May 2:08.

So what is your normal weekday schedule?

Discounting shopping and visits to our local witch doctor, my normal day starts with a 500ml glass of filtered-boiled and refrigerated tap water, repeated midday. breakfast usually an apple followed by cereal + tea or coffee with lite milk and non sugar sweetener. Approx about eight am read daily paper The Sydney Daily Telegraph (delivered) followed by an Email check on my blog site, half hour minimum.
I am not an accredited Chef , however, I have after a number of years in retirement; rudimentary skills which put me in charge of the main meal of the day , meaning dinner which is usually around five pm.
Apart from Fish twice per week (Health food) We have a variety of vegetables mostly fresh or frozen, Seven or more differing vegie's each day from a choice of twenty or more(never boring) we rarely have the same meat accompaniment within a ten day period.
The Missus deals with the desert, Lunch and snacks also Most of the domestic chores. I am the designated gardener; which produces 25% of our fresh Vegies which are grown in our back garden and fertilised from the liquid Worm castings produced by three worm farms(2000 Worms at the back of the shed) these in turn are fed with kitchen waste and trimmings from
vegie's.
From time to time I spend about one and a half hours daily blogging and sometimes(mostly) have an afternoon nap.
I usually watch TV after dinner, mostly Quiz programs, most TV sport bores me to tears.
Today our lawn mower St Yu Bstd was playing up again, spent two hours trying to fix it, so it will have go if it can't go, anyhow it's ten years old.
The three cats belonging to my serial prodigal son dumped on us to feed and care for, although quite sociable, they do tend to dig anywhere that I plant seeds. So, early this morning 10 am I had a great idea. I trimmed a thorny(big thorns some over an inch) Bush Lemon Tree, and using some long leafed Suckers and small branches(I said Suckers) I placed these around the garden plot perimeters a foot thick. So far we have no takers; or will I be their hero and pull a thorn from these wee tigers paws.
Tomorrow my Beautiful Gr/daughter Tamara Rose will be fifteen years old, Happy Birthday Gorgeous XXX.
Despite the pommie joke; I shall now take a shower-second today, then afterwards watch a movie on foxtel or play UNO with my beloved which I usually win about four out of five, then after drinkies I shall retire to the boudoir(to sleep) and wake refreshed for the usual forthcoming weekend festivities. Ta For Now. Everyone have a pleasant weekend.
Vest.