Forums Forums National News Dumb and dumber

Just watched the news and sat here cringing at the stupid lad from Liverpool spraying his name on the ancient wall in Thailand! Talk about Dumb and Dumber even told them where he came from !!
Well he's in big trouble now , theyre not soft in their punishments and jail terms, unlike us! Also watched that evil smirking Chowdrey being released , in my opinion they should have thrown the key away or worse. Wonder how long it will be before he starts spouting his muck again. Makes you shake your head in disbelief........

When I was a teenager I used to write my name everywhere from felt pens on the back of bus seats to great big boss sized 'SUZIE's painted multicoloured painted on gable ends, walls and under bridges.

It was partly through anger at society and partly through wanting to belong and it was cool to see your name everywhere though I guess the people who woke up to see 'SUZIE' in three foot high letters on their house wall did not think it was anywhere near cool.

Yet it was not personal and I did not mean any harm or want to upset them and I got upset seeing an old man trying to clean it off his car bonnet so I went and helped him without letting on it was me. It was only felt pen so it came off pretty good and he gave me a pound for helping.

When I got more mature I decided to just do my initials intertwined as it looked more cooler. I was spraying it on a wall and a copper stopped his car and ran at me and threw me to the ground. Turned out he had been in the army in northern Ireland and thought I was a terrorist because my initials SF looked like an IRA symbol haha!

But yeh that lad wins thicko of the year award. He is looking at 10 years bang up or coughing up £25,000. I mean you seriously do not do offending in Thialand do you?

Said he was drunk ! Maybe he won't drink again. Obviously his years at school taught him absolutely no 'respect' for others or their belongings ,cultures and heritage. Time the school curriculum was changed in my opinion. every child should come out of school having respect for one another in whatever form that comes in.
I can't wish bad things on him, because to do that is almost as bad as what his dysfunctional act did to others , but he's not going to have a happy time.

Susie, kids were badly treated, beaten, left on the streets, beggars, thieves, homeless, severe poverty and all the other things that can be accumulative to bad behaviour during the 1800's, the 1900's, and probably every century prior to that. To deface public or private property was no doubt met with sever punishment in those days, therefore it did not happen. Why should kids be given excuses to do such things in this day ?

Yeh but there wasn't any grafitti then because there wasn't any Halfords where the kids could nick aerosols from. If I had to go around with a lot of pots and brushes I would not have been bothered. I used to have a Parker and could carry lots of cans in the pockets. It was great. We used to nick loads from Halfords because they had them on an aisle where no one could see so it was their fault not ours. Like the guy who invented felt pens. What was he thinking about? Society creates these things and then everyone moans when bored kids use them for fun.

Also it was a way of fighting back. When I would see 'SUZIE' in big letters on a wall I felt good because it was not my name on a care home case file, not my face on a police station photo, not my name on a rotten school report, it was the REAL ME, free, answering to nobody, me Suzie living free and doing what I wanted after years of bullying, intimidation, violence, being told I was worthless, ..., no good, me SUZIE in colour on a wall for everyone to see.

The main point is, you knew what you were doing. You knew it was wrong, because you already admitted you felt bad for the guy who's car you penned on. So if you knew it was wrong to do such things, why on earth could the act of doing it make you feel better ? I would have felt worse, knowing full well that it was against my friends, my intuitions, and undeserved hurt to others .
So does that mean we have to accept all trashed grave stones, graffiti on walls , painted cars and knifed seats because it makes some kids feel better ?

I am sorry Granny, no you should not have to accept things like that. No one should have to. I have never pushed gravestones over. I think it is a terrible thing to do. I have seen lads do it. Kids go in cemeteries to smoke weed and crack and stuff and they get off their heads and do stupid things. I might have damaged seats but I also damaged my own arms more often.


I wasn't born a bad kid I was born in bad circumstances. I remember going to school hungry wearing the same smelly, worn out clothes that I had been wearing all week. My toes cramped into shoes that no longer fit. My body itching from bed bug bites who seemed to be in competition with the lice in my hair both species determined to make my life a misery. Been shouted at by teachers because I fell asleep. Unable to explain that I am tired because I cried all last night. Going home to four burned fishfingers for tea. Alone in the house sitting on the stairs in the dark because the meter has run out. Frightened of being alone but more scared of hearing the key in the lock that tells me the pub has thrown everyone out. Running up to bed and putting the pillow on my head but still hearing the row start, the screaming, shouting, things being smashed. The police sirens, the fighting struggling, standing at the top of the stairs seeing them taken away in handcuffs, then my turn when the Duty Social Worker arrives. The terror of the first time being taken into care, the numbness of the many times, the realisation of the last time. My home was gone.


The terror of the abuse from staff and kids. The hope against hope that a lovely family will adopt me and love me. Seeing other kids getting lucky but nobody wants me. I look in the mirror and think I am kind of pretty. I have nice eyes. Claire is one of the nicer staff , I ask her why nobody wants me. She says it is not about being pretty, it is about 'manageable risk'. She gets my incident sheet and reads it out to be. Smashing a chair in the dining room. Spitting at staff. Swearing. Stealing. Barricading in my room. Smashing the window in my room. Flooding the bathroom. Throwing a cup at staff. She doesn't bother to read the previous week.

So I am unlovable. Care is not caring. I run away. Sometimes with others. Clare tells me my 'manageable risk' level is getting worse. She says I am not doing myself any favours and need to change. I think about caterpillars and how they change into beautiful butterflies and wonder if I can change?


I go to my room and pick out a nice dress. I wash my hair and brush my teeth. I check my face for spots. There aren't any. I look in the mirror and practice smiling. I go to the reception and sit there. A man and woman come in. They look nice. I am sure they have come to see about adopting a kid. I noticed they were holding hands on the way in so they are not social workers or other visitors, they MUST be looking to adopt!


I give them my sweetest smile. The man half responds but the women gives me a lovely smile back! I feel my heart swell with love! They want me! I am not letting this chance go. I move closer and take hold of her wrist. I beg her to take me home. I smile more sweetly. The smile disappears from her face. She looks scared. I realise that I am holding her too tightly and probably hurting her but I cannot let go. She is my new mother.


One of the staff comes over. He pulls my thumb up and realises my grip. Another one shepherds them away. I start to cry. I beg them not to go home without me. The woman looks upset. The man puts his arm around her. The staff take me to my room. I bang the door shut and tear my dress off. I pull my hair and punch my own face. I lie on the bed and cry. Later Claire tells me my 'manageable risk' level has increased and I am banned from reception.


Later that week I ran away. This time alone. I wandered around Romford. I went into a shop and took a big plastic bottle of cider. The Asian man saw me and shouted. I ran and he chased me. The cider was too heavy so I threw it down an it exploded like a bomb showering people who shouted abuse at me. I could run fast without it. I got away and hid in the park all day. I saw a couple with a little girl feeding birds. They loved her I could see that and she had lovely clothes. I felt tears coming down my cheeks.


Later that night found me sitting under a bus shelter. I had found a cigarette lighter in the park and I tried to burn 'SUZIE' on the plastic that covered the timetable but it wouldn't burn properly. So pulled at a corner of the timetable and pulled most of it out and burned it.I sat on the floor again shivering. A car pulled up and a man got out and walked towards me. He was tall with black hair and wore a suit like a solicitor or something. He smiled and asked if he could give me a lift. I said my dad was on his way. He got in and drove off. I sat there for ages and watched buses come and go. I saw people with places to go. Laughing and holding hands. Everyone seemed to have someone.

The man came back. He didn't smile this time. He said he knew I was lying about my dad coming. He said he knew I had nowhere to go. He told me to get in the car. This was not the friendly invite from before, this was an order. My legs were stiff from sitting. I stood up slowly and walked towards the car. He opened the passenger door and I noticed a horrible leer on his face and saw he was looking at my body. I made out as if I was getting in and he went to get in the driver's side and then I RAN.

I thought he might follow and run me down so I headed for an alley way too narrow for a car and ran right up it. It was at the back of some shops and there were bins and other places to hide. I saw a sort of porch or doorway and jumped in. It was pitch dark and I realised I had bumped into another person. Two hands held my shoulders and a male voice said 'Not so fast young lady!'

A torch came on and a female voice said 'What's your name Miss?' I was blinded by the torch but could just make out the police uniforms. I said my name was Mary Brown and I had to rush because my dad was waiting for me at home. I heard the police woman asking for a description of the 'missing girl's clothing' on her radio and the ominous reply 'Navy blue Parka, pink sweater, blue jeans, white trainers,' The policeman gripped my arm tightly and smiled 'Hello Susan'. He said 'SUZIE!' I replied. Years later he was a custody sergeant in the police station and when I would be arrested for stupid things he would always say 'Oh look it's Mary Brown!'.

So I was back in care. Never found that new mum and dad. Left care went into young people's supported living and got thrown out for bad behaviour. Ended up on the streets doing anything and everything to survive. I am not ashamed at what I have done to survive. I don't care who knows. My dignity was taken too far back to worry. I am proud in a way and I would rather die on my feet than live on my knees.


My life has been a rollercoaster and still is but then life is a cabaret. And when I die I want a lovely ornate gravestone in marble with gold letters donated by the good and charitable members of our society who have kindly laid to rest a poor, fallen woman who will sin no more...………..and then I want a scruffy kid with an aerosol to spray 'SUZIE!' right across it in front of their horrified stares. Haha xx

looks like the realisation of what he's done is beginning to sink in, he's not at home in the good old UK were you can virtually do as you please without fear of consequences, the excuses being put forward too drunk to write properly, don't remember a thing, yet in the paper it clearly shows what has been written in a clear and steady hand, not only stupid but also a liar.

Suzie, your memoirs are quite traumatic and extremely well explained and articulated. I assume that you must have achieved at school in 'English Language' to have the ability to write such an account, with so much impact, giving an insight into the life of an unwanted child.
Tragic as it was, you have obviously managed to pull yourself into a position of confidence, and credit to you for doing so.

It still does not explain , and I don't expect you to, why children from family homes do the same things. This chap in the subject matter was obviously not hard up, in care, or scrapping the barrel if he can afford a holiday in Thailand, he's no juvenile, and therefore has no justification for doing what he has done.
There comes a time in life when we have to take responsibility for our own actions, and think before we act. As so often is said, crime is a voluntary act .

Brilliantly articulated Suzie . Your damaged upbringing is hopefully well outside the experience of most of us on here, so very eye opening albeit it profoundly sad to read. Youve done well to come such a long way on the road to healing yourself emotionally - Dont forget if you stall , there is help and support out there . This organization for adults recognizes just how far reaching and lingering the pain from childhood abuse can be .
https://napac.org.uk/

Damn, I somehow missed Suzie's farewell thread so she probably hasnt read the last couple of posts on this one. If you do peek in again Suzie , good luck with your life - as Dilly said, you added a lot to Wiki. x