Dr. John Clay has published in his Blog a pack of downright lies and misinformation about several weeks during which I was resident at his house in York. In his post he claims that I was abusive and violent towards him and the household. It seems he has a problem with his memory, which is not surprising given how drunk he was during my stay. It was he rather than me that was the abuser. I only wish I was able to stand up to his daily batterings and that I wouldn't have allowed the following to occur;
1) He would pace up and down outside my room ringing bells all night long. Sleep depravity was one of his favourite methods of torment.
2) He insisted on calling me 'Quentin' for the entire time I lived with him. The reasons for this are beyond me.
3) He locked me out of the house on several occasions, he then would call the Police and tell them there was a paedophile outside his house trying to get in. I was arrested three times for this and am still on the sex offenders register.
4) When I was getting milk out of the fridge he smashed the door shut on my head and repeatedly slammed it until I was unconscious.
5) When I was at work (He never worked, he just scrounged off the dole.) he threw all my belongings out of my room and into the street. After urinating on them he tried to burn them, I only stopped him because I had been sent home from work early due to lack of sleep (see number 1).
6) He flooded my room and ran an electric current through the water just so he could 'watch me dance'.
7) He stole the neighbour's car and ran me over.
8) He punched me so hard in the face it broke my eye socket and blinded me. When I returned from the hospital he had sold all my possessions and laughed while stamping on my fingers.
9) He would force me to wear a saddle and rode me to the shops like a pig.
There was much more than this, but my memory is blurred from all the abuse I took.
Monday, 9 February 2009
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6 comments:
You're such a fucking pussy, why couldn't you stand up for yourself liker a man?
You just described my childhood. Thanks for dredging it all up again, thanks a f**king bunch
Fuck you Craig, I remember you crying like a baby when he stabbed you with that pen. You moved out cos you couldn't take the abuse.
My dear Mr. Sotheran,
I am deeply distressed to hear all these disturbing accusations flying back and forth between you and Dr. Clay and Mr. McKibbin. It pains me to see such worthy gentleman at loggerheads with one another. Surely, it must be a calamitous case of mistaken identity? Or, perhaps your mutual calumny has some, sadly misguided, comedic intent?
As for my dear Mrs. Swarbrick, rest assured that I, too, understand all too well the pain of a miserable childhood passed with an abusive sibling who had all the charm of manner and violence of temperament peculiar to an enraged mountain goat.
Sigh. It is all too, too ghastly for words.
Yours, as ever,
Mrs. Lily Roth
I have yet to see a shred of evidence in support of any of this.
What about the fact that I can't feel the left side of my body any more? Or it took me six weeks to be able to stand up straight, never mind walk, after moving out of your house? What about the array of metal objects you'd inserted into my body that left medical experts baffled? What about all that Clay?
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