» Tramps

Not the funniest & quite long.
I’ve been volunteering for a homelessness charity in the UK for the last 8 years. This post isn’t a boast about that (I only volunteered in the first place to try & impress a woman I was playing hide the bratwurst with), but it is now something I could never see myself not doing – it’s a fucking brilliant experience.

The charity runs temporary centres for the homeless for eight days over Christmas (many of the hostels in London close over this period). The charity itself was founded as a result of a few people (I think 12 or so) setting up temporary shelter in a church (the charity is not a religious organisation) in response to the 60’s film ‘Cathy come home’. These 12 individuals expected about 30 or so homeless people to visit the shelter. Approximately 400 homeless people turned up. We now get approx around 2000 visitors (we call them guests in an attempt to give them at least some dignity) each year – of whom around 500 are rough sleepers with the remaining being either sofa surfers (temporarily staying with friends) or living in hostels.

I began as a general volunteer (there are several thousand volunteers across 7-8 centres that the charity operate) and for the last 4 years have been one of the team that manages one of the centres. We have operated centres in all sorts of buildings from the Dome (O2), London Arena (now demolished), empty office blocks, schools and colleges. We receive gifts in kind (food, clothing etc) from individuals and large companies worth a couple of million quid each year. Few of these mention it publicly and the level of philanthropy is humbling.

The mix of people who become homeless is unbelievably diverse, including graduates, professionals and about a third have served in the armed services in the past (these typically end up homeless from not being able to adjust to civilian life).

Anyone can become homeless. There is an estimate that before the recession the average adult in the UK was financially about 6 weeks away from homelessness if they lost their job. Fuck knows how much that figure has reduced since the start of the recession. A lot of people end up homeless as a result of a relationship break-up.

Yes of course there are pissheads & druggies and a lot have mental health issues. A lot of these ended up like this as a result of being homeless (remember the snow we had in February – you’d want to get off your head if you had to sleep out in that).

Typically the different problems the homeless suffer are made up of thirds. This means a third are ex-services, a third have substance dependency problems, a third have mental health issues, a third have suffered physical or sexual abuse, etc, but we see a lot of people with what we call multiple thirds – e.g. have mental health issues and are ex-services or have experienced abuse and have dependency issues. We have also seen an increase in homelessness since eastern European countries joined the EU – this is common – every rise in immigration comes with a rise in homelessness - fuck me can these boys drink.

The volunteers are fucking amazing. Some of my best friends are other volunteers who I’ve had hilarious nights on the piss with, brilliant holidays etc. I’ve also got a few shags out of it as well (volunteers not guests!). The volunteers come from a very diverse background – from leftie students to people in the 70’s.

I have met ‘A list’ celebrities who volunteer anonymously every year, quietly and with no publicity. We also have former homeless people who the charity has helped get sorted who come back & volunteer. The professions of the volunteers are so diverse the charity are able to operate dental, podiatry & general medical services, provide legal advise, teach basic skills (literacy etc) as well as dependency counsellors, cooks, sewers (to alter clothing), plumbers, carpenters, etc to make the buildings we get habitable.

The relationships the charity has with other organisations and councils means about 200 homeless people are re-homed over the 8 day period we are open – some go to hostels (first step to getting off the streets), some require further medical attention (long term residency due to mental health issues) and some are re-housed by councils.

I have on occasion taken rough sleepers to their new homes which is an incredibly emotional experience (and I am one of the most cynical & non-emotional cunts you would ever meet) – witnessing the sheer joy for them of getting off the streets & being able to get themselves sorted (jobs, qualifications etc) is extremely humbling.

Of course there are rough sleepers who don’t want a roof & four walls but they get the same access to services if they wish and we treat everyone equally (for example volunteers and guests eat together whenever possible) to break down barriers – the isolation of homelessness is one of the worst aspects and definitely contributes to the mental health issues that many will experience.

Yes we also get the occasional cunt who wants to spoil it for everyone else – fighting/ stealing etc. but as more experienced volunteers who run the centres we are trained by the charity on how to restrain these wankers & we ban them quickly (with the “help” of the rozzers where required). However these incidents are rare (probably 5 at each of the 7 centres across the week – 35 out of 2000 is a pretty good rate. Our first concern is the safety of guests and volunteers. Only one of the centres allows alcohol. Weapons & drugs are banned from all. One of the centres is women only & this is operated in anonymous location so these guests can get away from pimps, abusive partners etc.

When I turned up at my first shift in 2000 I didn’t have a clue what to expect, was slightly apprehensive and I only turned up to impress a sexy nurse I was seeing at the time. In fact the only good thing I got from my relationship with her was my introduction to volunteering and the friendships and fucking amazing (often hilarious) experiences I have had.

So if you’re based in London & don’t like the whole family Christmas thing you can volunteer at www.crisis.org.uk or gaz me for further details.

I have experienced some extremely funny times when volunteering but will post these separately.

And no I don’t read the fucking Guardian before you ask.
(Fri 3rd Jul 2009, 10:08, More)

» Helicopter Parents

Helicopter some times + abusive at other times = confusion
(Length warning)

My parents married young & I arrived 11 months later. Dad is pretty chilled – worked hard, became successful and is a happy chap if he regularly gets to have a beer, play golf etc. He was away a lot when I was a kid (which explains some of below). My mother was (and possibly still is) a completely hypocritical headcase with the mental stability of a bunch of frogs with Gulf War Syndrome.

As a kid there were the usual aspects that a lot of other people would have had to deal with; certain children I was told not to mix with, certain TV programmes were banned, some types of clothing weren’t allowed etc. Fine. Not a big deal.

However there were much more embarrassing times - mother goes storming in to berate teachers in full classrooms for giving me detentions I that I thoroughly deserved, not allowing me to attend school trips in case I hurt myself (how can you hurt yourself watching Macbeth at your local theatre?) not being allowed to be alone more than 100 yards from the house, not being allowed to have the BCG jab as “my son will never catch TB we are far too middle class” and many others that I won’t bore you with. It was 100% helicopter parenting.

The worst thing though was the confusion because when she wasn’t acting like that she was beating the fuck out of me and messing with my head. There were times when I had to be kept off school until bruising had faded, made to sleep in the garden shed overnight in the middle of February, locked in my bedroom with the window chained, told I was educationally subnormal, stupid (turns out my IQ is about 140), was a failure, she wished I’d never been born, making me scrub ink off my arm with a pumice stone until my arm resemble a raw steak, plus many further (some worse) examples. This type of thing occurred pretty much daily from the age of 3 until I left home at 17.

Once she even got a GP out to the house to try & have me sectioned for crying once she had kicked the shit out of me(I recall the GP saying something along the lines of if anyone in the house needed sectioning it was probably her).

So on one hand I was not allowed to do perfectly reasonable things, some times my mother would go completely OTT to “protect” me, some times she would defend me when I deserved punishment by others and some times she would batter the fuck out of me physically and psychologically (hence my username).

I am now 36 and through therapy (mainly TA but some CBT as well) I have lost the anger about it, although I have chosen not to have anything to do with my mother for the last 19 years. I recognise that some of it was due to her having mental health issues but you don’t really realise that when you’re 14 and having a glass bottle smashed in to the back of your head or when you’re being told “you should have been an abortion”.

I have no idea how much my father knew - I never told him at the time & wouldn't now (we get on & I don't want to upset him).

I’m posting this not for sympathy or any bollocks like that but because I know there are some people who think they should not have children themselves because of their own childhood (who think as their parents were crap that this would make them be a crap parent). It is logical but incorrect to think like this – your experiences might not make you a brilliant parent but it will definitely make you a different sort of parent to yours - so have kids if you want them. (I want them – I just need to find somebody willing to with me first).

This is badly written due to my hangover. Apologies for that and the lack of f/
(Fri 11th Sep 2009, 13:02, More)

» School Projects

Model of a volcano
when I was ten. Made from paper mache & then painted with whatever paint was left in my parents garage. I ended up presenting something that looked like a 32E magnolia coloured breast with bright orange discharge coming out of the nipple. Given a mark? It looked like it should have been given antibiotics.
(Thu 13th Aug 2009, 15:50, More)

» Mobile phone disasters

Never leave your phone at work
Years ago I worked in an open plan office & I sat near a girl who was soon to be married. It seemed the relationship was somewhat rocky given the amount of shouting matches we all overheard her having on the phone with the husband-to-be.

I was working late one evening when I heard her mobile ringing on her desk after she had left for the day. So I answered it & it was the fiancé. Fiance: “hello is [insert name] there please?” Me: “No sorry she’s in the shower at the moment, can I take a message?”. Click. Buuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…
(Thu 30th Jul 2009, 13:01, More)

» Customers from Hell

Opera Books
A few years ago I worked in the marketing dept of a (now rather large) internet retailer. Word reached me that a customer had got in touch to complain that she had ordered some books on opera as a gift for her elderly father, only to receive some rather more "adult" books instead. The customer went in to the usual rant "disgraceful... pornography... elderly man... heart condition..." etc. To receive the following reply from the customer service rep' "sorry that the orders got swapped, but imagine how the person who received the opera books felt"
(Tue 9th Sep 2008, 11:27, More)