⚠️WARNING!!: If you’ve read my blogs before you’ll be aware I like the odd smattering of expletives here and there. I could apologise but I won’t. It’s MY real talk and how I express myself, obviously not all the time – there is a time and a place. HERE IS MY TIME AND MY PLACE! I’m just giving you a heads up: There’s a couple of strong ones today!!
Stick and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. I’ve heard it being said and even muttered the saying myself as a kid, but the truth of the matter is I was only lying to myself. It’s a crock of do-do! No, they can’t break bones but they can cause pain – they can make your heart ache – and there’s nothing wrong with admitting that they hurt you.
I had my fair share of petty drama as a teen but as an adult I avoid it like the plague! “Ain’t nobody got time for that!!”
I’m not saying I’m friends with everybody. There are a few people I really don’t like but it ain’t a thang! I see you, but I don’t see you and life goes on. They quite literally mean nothing to me and I understand the value of time so it will not be wasted on “nothing”. The majority of the time I’m an easy going person, I live and let live. I know my worth, I don’t allow people to cross many lines and I know how to lock people off, but sometimes it’s not that easy. Sometimes a situation arises where as much as you try to be the better person you can’t escape a little drama whilst dealing with it because you’re faced with a special breed of people. I like to call them CUNTS.
Harsh words are never welcome but at times need to be spoken. Every once in a while certain people need to be put in check and told a few home truths. #JustSaying
Thankfully I don’t have to do it often but when I do, for me, the reason they’re receiving the tongue lashing is a build up of so much bullshit either being said or done I can no longer bear the stench. It may come across as harsh but it’ll be based in truth. I’m aware that those words hurt the person on the receiving end (or possibly not as it’s debatable whether they actually have feelings) but, in my eyes, that pain can be classified as being self inflicted on account of being a cunt. #YouBroughtItOnYourself
Cunts have the ability to throw you off balance. The most grounded person can be rocked by another persons cuntish behaviour. They come in both sexes, all colours, creeds, shapes and sizes but share many nasty characteristics and qualities. Their cuntishness knows no bounds and can range from small time cunt – like the ones who now feel it necessary to shout abuse and tell every person of colour in England to go home, or major cunts like the government and the most recent terrorists in Turkey. They have the knack of pushing the right buttons to really upset you and make you wanna fuck up a bitch! As cool, calm and collected as we may appear to be (👀), we’re human, we have feelings and cunts can inflict pain with words like no other, which as well as causing anger can also have some sliding down a slippery slope to dark places.
My pain was caused by words that come straight out of left field and knock you for six. It kinda stops you in your tracks for a hot minute as your head and heart register what was said. It’s said just in the right tone or just at the right time to inflict the most damage. It’s bad enough if it’s from a random stranger but when it comes from a supposed “loved one” it cuts all the more deeper. Unfortunately for me I’m dealing with the latter type at the moment, with words and actions combined they are the hardest to ignore and forgive.
Unfortunately for them their words are not enough to break me fully, but inspired me to write a few of my own. The pain they caused has subsided substantially and their actions I am dealing with as best I can. A little down but never out – believe that!! These cunts picked the wrong bitch to mess with.
I believe you shouldn’t hold things in that upset you. Negative energy’s not the one. Better out than in and all that jazz. Release that shit and keep on moving! I also believe you shouldn’t allow anybody to try to bring you down or disrespect you no matter who they are to you, especially if, like me, you know your worth.
I try to stay as positive as I possibly can be, but as I’ve said time and again I’m a realist, and I know it’s not possible all the time. I’m not a big fan of airing my business and I’ve never felt the need to name and shame but under special circumstances (and for especially cunty cunts) I’m willing to make an exception to my rule. The only reason it hasn’t been done already is because I have no option but to bide my time…for now.
There’s been a mild breeze in the air but hear me when I say Hurricane Dawn is brewing!!
Watch what you say people. No matter what the old adage says WORDS HURT!! I’m very careful with mine. It’s a shame others are not the same because once they’ve been said they cannot be taken back, but they can be remembered for a long time. Some will soon be reminded of their words. #Cunts
R.I.P Turkey 43
R.I.P to all who have lost their lives this week
Think Before You Speak, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife
“What’s worse, lookin’ jealous or crazy? Jealous or crazy? Or like, being walked all over lately, walked all over lately. I’d rather be crazy.”…
Beyoncé ~ Hold Up
Two weeks ago my mum unexpectedly passed away. As you can imagine it hasn’t been an easy time. Despite her being in her twilight years and having dementia and knowing it’s inevitable, I wasn’t ready. There was no prep time. No warning. No final goodbye.
It was nothing we hadn’t been through before. She had been admitted to hospital with a chest infection and would be fine once the antibiotics had kicked in. I’d been there for hours and it was late and I was told to go home. She’d be fine and discharged back to the home in the morning. I wrapped her blanket around her, kissed her and told her I loved her and I’ll see her tomorrow.
I did see her, but not how I expected. I got a call just after 5am telling me she wasn’t looking good and to come now. I was confused. “What do you mean, not looking good? You said she’d be fine? You told me to go home!” The nurse told me it was a suspected heart attack, so naturally I threw some clothes on, made the necessary calls and rolled out.
I was the first to arrive, and I knew as soon as I was asked to come and sit in the relatives room instead of by her bedside what the deal was; but I still needed to hear it. I had been alright up until that point. As soon as she said she’d gone I was a mess. It was only a matter of minutes before I was joined by my twin and as soon as he saw me he knew.
With my hand on my heart I can say we did all we could to make sure she was loved and taken care of. Since she went into the home the longest my twin and I had not seen her for was a week – the week of our cousins funeral which we both attended in Antigua. Before I left I made sure I’d asked people to visit. Regardless of whether she could hold a running conversation or not, it’s always nice to see a different face and you don’t know what seeing it may trigger.
For some it’s just a waste of time. For me it was quality time. I have been accused of being to blame for mum being in a home. It’s all true. I fully accept my part in it. But when the Carry-Go-Bring-Comers get the scoop they forget to ask about the finer details. The multiple questions and reasons as to why. It’s all good. I have the answers as you’ll discover soon enough. In the meantime here’s two you can ask them. How often did they see mum in the past year and how often did they take her out? It’s ok. I’ll wait…
To those who have been vocal and for those who are whispering behind closed doors, I’ll set you straight. There will never be any chance of reconciliation with my siblings within my lifetime and possibly the next. I’m pretty sure it works both ways too. Apparently I’m an interfering, druggie, family wrecker with daddy issues who needs help, and I’m to keep on ranting on Facebook like the crazy Black woman I am!
Ok. If I must!
Call me what you want and say what you will. I would rather be me than anything like what others perceive themselves to be. I admit I’m not always a lady and I am not, nor have I ever claimed to be, holier than thou – I’m as far from religious as you can be, but I’ve respected my mum all of my life and I’m not about to stop now as we lay her to rest.
If ‘people’ are looking for fireworks or some kind of show at her burial you’ll be disappointed so please don’t come unless it’s about showing your respect. Many didn’t when she was alive, and it’s actually ironic how some are more fussed about her dead body and what happens to it than when she was living.
Gotta make sure she has a good send off!
I think it was more important to give her the best life rather than a good send off. Some will see me as being awkward or stubborn or just plain outta order, and that is your right, but I am not in the habit of playing happy families to make other ‘people’ feel comfortable. I have no desire to ‘pull together’ now. Why? Because it’s the right thing to do? For who exactly? Her spirit has left. That’s what needed lifting when she was here. Fuck who wants to lift her coffin now she’s gone.
But that’s just me, and emotions are high, but as I was told I have to live with my guilt and my conscience. And I’m doing just fine on those levels! I can’t say I’m the best with the rest but I’m sure I’ll be fine in time. It just hurts like a bitch.
For now I’m going to try and deal with the flow of toxicity that has returned in my life, and do what has to be done and move on. It’s a struggle but one thing I know for sure is I am definitely Dolly Merchant’s daughter when it comes to my mouth, so I will continue ranting like the crazy Black woman I am for you, mum.
Whilst others may remain wrong and strong, so I shall remain right, tight and shedding light…when the time is right!
Thankh you Mama for the 9 months you carried me through and for being you. You’re finally at peace now and out of your dementia state. I hope you’re having a blast up there.
R.I.E.P Mumzy🖤
R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives recently.
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Well! What a shitty end to the year and decade! And what a decade it’s been! I was hoping I’d have me a Bobby Ewing* moment and wake up in the shower to realise it was all a dream!
At the start I thought I’d realised the importance of how precious time was by leaving a job that was killing my soul; but it was nothing in comparison to the real eye opener half way through.
I’ve observed how some people judge and treat others without looking at their movements and realising they are the same, if not worse. I’ve lost real ones and real fake ones. I’ve fought cancer, fought family and fought for family. I’ve seen dementia (and others) rob my mum. I’ve lost my crowning glory and gained a disability. I’ve felt alone, been disowned, depressed, downhearted and cried me a fucking river – but I’m still here!
I’m calling it my Detox Decade! I had a major build up of toxicity which I’m almost done filtering out, and it’s left me heading into 2020 with 20/20 vision on certain aspects trust me!
I’ve had more than my fill of negative attitudes and bad energies. #MekItStayFarAway
Throughout all of the bullshit and the madness I’ve had my constants. The ones that show and prove and who have helped me through it all. Understanding that although I may have seemed alright on the outside, I really was a mess, and they did all they could to help me out.
Thank you for showing me what genuine friendship and love is all about. Y’all know who you are but I have to shout out the main one. The one who has seen me at my absolute worst and still loved me unconditionally. The one who took me from Miss to Mrs! My husband, Mr Biggs. Big love, respect and thanks going out to you from the bottom of my heart.🖤
The same for all of you who have supported me in every aspect and those of you who take the time out to read my ramblings! It honestly means a lot. I’ve taken a little break to recharge the batteries but there will be PLENTY more Tales Of The Dales and more to come in 2020. Stay tuned! #SoonCome
In the meantime, feel free to reread some of my earlier blogs and like, comment and share if the mood takes you.
Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it and I’m truly wishing you all the best that 2020 has to offer and beyond.
R.I.P to my little cuz Janel Merchant and all of those who have passed away recently. Gone but by no means forgotten.
I know a lot of you are wondering where Tales Of The Dales has disappeared to. Don’t worry, I haven’t been silenced and I’m very much alive! There’s only one way I’ll be stopped and that’s via a court order, so until that happens – keep watching this space. They will return!
The fact of the matter is I’ve had some bad news recently, and as much as I enjoy writing TOTD, despite them being infused with humour, the majority of the memories are sad and negative ones about people who now mean very little to me.
Although it’s in the past, I don’t have the headspace to be thinking about them right now. Alongside an uncle passing away and the family drama that incurred, a cousin of mine is gravely ill and my focus has been on sending as much love and positive vibes I can muster her way.
When you go through the shit I have with my siblings it makes you question the word family and what it entails. I admit to at times feeling cynical about it, but certain members reminded me that the actions of a few shouldn’t tarnish the true meaning.
A lot of people knock Facebook and other social media platforms for creating issues and drama. That’s not the case. It’s down to how you choose to use it. For me, amongst other things, it’s been a great way to communicate with my people all over the world, and a few years ago I set up a messenger group page.
It was good to be able to fill them in on what was going on, and also to vent to people who knew me and had prior knowledge of how certain family members stood and the complexity of the situation.
It’s by far easier to sit on the fence for fear of offending or causing upset, but the reality is people can be both good and bad. If certain folk only want to highlight the good and can’t handle being called out on the bad that’s not for me to feel a way about, no matter how much they like to point fingers and shout about it, and I feel blessed and thankful to those in the group who fully understand that.
One such person is my cousin who is now fighting for her life. She is one of the most loveliest young women you could hope to meet, and helped me no end when I was getting married. She’s a character and a half and has a lovely bubbly personality. To think of her the way she is now honestly breaks my heart.
I can’t help but question the higher powers movements sometimes. Apparently everything happens for a reason and I’m hoping at some point some sense will be made of this. To be fair I questioned her (the higher power), when I was going through things with mum, but I now see it was (in the end) for the greater good. I’m hoping with all my might my cousin is not called up just yet. I know we’ve all got to go sometime…just not yet.
In life we’re given blessings and lessons. I’ve learnt to be grateful for them all – the good and bad. The lesson I got from my escapades with my family is to make sure you truly fully appreciate the ones who are there for you and show you they care for you.
All too often excuses are made as to why some don’t put the time and effort in. I’ve heard the most amount of bullshit reasons as to why some don’t bother coming to see my mum. The fact of the matter is as hard as it is for some to see her in a home, it’s not a fraction on how it must feel for her to live there, but it’s her home now so you should try your best to make it feel that way.
Presumption is a key factor. They presume because she has dementia it means she’s not worth the effort. What’s the point? She doesn’t remember shit anyway!…only she does, but you have to be around to see it. Because she has dementia you make more of an effort not less. But to each their own. You keep on doing you and I’ll keep on doing for those who need it.
Show your love and mean it. Don’t just talk the talk, walk the fucking walk! Tomorrow isn’t promised and life is way too short. If you haven’t said it lately, or ever, tell those you care about how much you love them. If you can’t muster up the words find ways to show it instead. It has the same effects and doesn’t have to be a grand gesture but can have a big impact and mean a lot, especially when it’s truly heartfelt.
R.I.P Uncle James and all those who have lost their lives recently.
Lil’ cuz, if prayers alone could see you through you’d have been out and about time ago. Keep fighting, and we’ll keep sending up and out the all the love we can.
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“I haven’t time to waste my time with the likes of you!…”
I would think by now you’ve read enough to understand some of the reasons as to why mine and Dales relationship is the way it is. Since my teens there has been a steady flow and varying degrees of shit, so when the events of the past five years first unfolded the majority of it was of no great surprise.
However, what did take me by surprise is how the relationship between myself and my sister fell apart. To be totally honest I’m still flummoxed. It’s actually quite funny as the love and adoration I had for Dale as a child could not be said of my feelings for her.
Our sisterly bond didn’t really kick in until after she left home. Before then it felt like I was more tolerated than loved. She was always so bloody miserable! There were never any girly sessions or guidance from her. I actually struggle to recall any major bonding moments that didn’t involve me trying to garner some form of affection.
There is an eleven year age gap between us, so by the time I was 10 she was 21 and we had little in common. By then I was a typical kid into my pop tunes but had also been introduced to my Black side via my eldest brother. She was different. She had a Black side but it was more diluted.
Considering that she and Dale were born in Antigua they both spoke as if they were born with silver spoons in their mouths. Dale would switch it up every now and then and try and drop a little patois into the mix, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard her speak anything but the queen’s English and banshee.
She liked jazz, funk and soul, and I credit her for introducing me to the likes of Anita Baker, Maze, Roy Ayers and Tania Maria. My main impression of her back then was that she liked make up and shoulder pads, wining, dining, hobnobbing and white men.
I mentioned previously that she and Dale never talked when I was little. I used to think that part of the reason must be because she was so moody and uptight, but then I finally got it. She was bouji!, and I came to understand it was mostly frustration at her environment. For someone of her imagined stature living at home must have been torture for her.
It wasn’t unusual to have the smell of sweat and testosterone wafting upstairs alongside the grunts and groans of Dale and his mates working out. Not the greatest when you want to relax with a glass of wine and chill with Robbie Vincent.
She was smart (or so I thought), had good taste and liked the finer things in life, but we were flexing with Vimto money and she had champagne tastes! She tried though, bless her. I’ll never forget the time she bought carpet for the front room. Lovely, fluffy, deep pile CREAM carpet…👀
Even at my young age I knew it was a disaster waiting to happen!
It was lovely carpet for about a week. Then Dale came home one day and walked clean through the front room with his muddy Doc Martens and left a trail of destruction behind him. Understand the rest of us virtually hovered over this fucking carpet let alone sip beverages darker than water anywhere near it.
You have to go upstairs to enter the front room, so he had plenty of opportunity to take his boots off before walking on it but chose not to. He was basically saying fuck you and your carpet.
I remember the vexation from my sister at the time. I can’t be certain but I believe that was a turning point for her. She realised her efforts were not going to be appreciated within the house. I’m sure it helped to cement her decision to leave home and have all the cream carpet her little heart desired.
Well she did just that. Cream carpet an’ all! She was seeing her now husband at the time and they eventually moved in together. I remember Dave and I praising the Lord that she’d gone. The mood totally lifted and from then on our relationship was great. I’d literally never seen her so happy. Space was definitely what was needed all round. She was free to be as bouji as she pleased and was loving it, and most definitely living her best life.
On paper we were polar opposites. Looks, tastes, lifestyles – everything!, but we had at last bonded. We’d often talk about things going on at home and Dales behaviour. She was glad to be well out of it all and was in no way looking back. In fairness to her, despite not coming back to the house very often, whenever she upgraded anything she would give the old bits to mum to help spruce the place up. I say old bits but they weren’t old or battered. It was all good quality stuff and mum was grateful.
My sister was always adamant that she didn’t want to have children. They’d encroach on her lifestyle too much. Bali’s not quite the same with a bawling brat in tow don’t you know!? She was good with my two girls and her other nephews and nieces, but admittedly far from the motherly type.
Just after having my second daughter I discovered that I had two other sisters on my dads side that lived in London. I knew I had other siblings but didn’t have a clue that any lived in England. One of them happened to go on a trip organised by the Antigua Association and met a woman who told her she knew of siblings she had in Slough.
She took her number and passed it on to my mum who passed it on to me. Now after giving birth to my daughter, a week later I was in hospital with a headache I’d had for the whole week. I’d never felt anything like it. It was the worst and constant. It felt as if my brain was being battered inside my head and any kind of light was like torture.
As it turns out I had a benign pituitary adenoma, and after spending 2 weeks in hospital and having a fit, I came round to discover the headache gone and along with it all recollection of giving birth. I remembered being pregnant but not much after that and totally did not register my baby as being mine…sorry Sadé.
I’d had enough head fucks by then, so receiving a number from a sister on my dads side wasn’t really appealing to me. I had visions of her trying to get me to reconnect with him and I sooo wasn’t interested. I believe it was my husband who encouraged me to make contact…it’s all quite hazy, but I do remember the day we actually met.
I had to laugh. It was a lovely summers day and it was as if the higher power were saying, you know what girlfriend, you’ve done been through enough honey chil’! Have this on me!
They were like the sisters I’d imagined and never got. They were FULLY in touch with their roots and we all looked alike. One of them even had locs and smoked too! We clicked and bonded straight away. Like me they had Black partners and Black kids and all I kept thinking was why couldn’t I have met them sooner?
Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against mixed relationships and I have no issues with it at all. It was just nice to have females on my level who could relate to being my kind of Black. I never had that with my sister, and my mum and I were generations apart. The fact that they couldn’t stand our father either just added to the love.
My paternal sisters came to Slough and met the rest of my family and we’ve been in regular contact ever since. A couple of years after meeting them my sister unexpectedly found herself pregnant. That wasn’t just a shock to her but to all of us, trust me.
She was in her early forties by then and recognised the miracle that it was so decided to keep it. I was happy for her and especially her husband. As much as he was happy to live life as a twosome you could tell he’d love to have had a child of his own.
And I was pretty sure this child had come to fix my sister!
Whenever and wherever I could I helped out. I loved my niece and at that time my sister couldn’t drive, so if she needed anything or had to go anywhere whilst her husband was at work I would be there. When she went back to work I looked after her. She knew I smoked but it wasn’t an issue. She knew I wasn’t a junkie and wouldn’t do it around her daughter.
We were good. We were tight. I thought I knew her. Sure she was bouji and a little stuck up, but ultimately she was good people. Hear me when I say when the shit hit the fan I was totally blindsided by her and it cut deep. Real deep! Never did I imagine she’d be Pinky to The Brain.
She sent the opening quote to me. This was well after all of Dales escapades I’ve mentioned previously and after the majority of what you’ve yet to discover. For her to look down her nose at ‘the likes of me’ whilst backing the likes of him is to me beyond a joke.
As much as she may think cannabis has fucked me up in the head, it seems it’s not a touch on the gin that’s addled her brain! I promised her that one day I would remind her of everything.
Buckle up bitch!😂
R.I.P Diahann Carroll and all those who have passed away recently
R.I.P Joy Morgan. Now your family can finally put you to rest
Huge congratulations to Dina Asher-Smith, Katarina Johnson-Thompson, Shelly-Ann Fraser-Price, Allyson Felix and Nia Ali for totally smashing it for black women in the World Athletics Championships!
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“The situation between myself and Dawn Williams has always been an issue, for whatever reason she has chosen to create problems for me…”
I’m sure that by now some of you, possibly a lot of you, are still questioning why I’ve chosen to air and share. For the paracats and those who I’ve ever had an issue with you can rest easy!
I’m hoping that if you’ve read Disclaimers 1-3, like really read them and not just skipped through to The Dales, you’ll have more understanding of the person I am. Believe I have no trouble in locking folk off without the need to go to these lengths. I’m rational enough to know not everyone will like me, and I in turn don’t like some people, but that isn’t going to effect my everyday life.
This is different because it did effect my everyday life on a number of levels – in fact the main cause of it has been effecting it for the longest while, and quite simply, I’m done.
There comes a point in your life when you have a lightbulb moment. I’ve had a few, but the most significant one came when cancer came calling. That bitch made me pay real attention. I don’t expect many to get it and I can’t really explain it, but let’s just say it gives you a form of clarity that can only come when your life is on the line.
I can’t stress enough how much I honestly have no time for bullshit. So when you see me putting my energy behind this you had best believe it’s for a good reason. The absolute best reason. Me.
To you it may seem as if I’m having a laugh or being disrespectful, petty and bitchy. I get that it may come across as such, but that is your opinion and you are most welcome to it. I’m hoping that my words have managed to convey more than that and you can see that it goes a lot deeper than sheer pettiness. If not, oh well! I can’t make you see it any clearer without the help of a wand and a pensieve!*
OurStory has shown me a lot, and something that you can’t escape but notice being brought up Black back in the day, is that we don’t like to talk and respect is age controlled. You’re to respect your elders regardless. They’ve been here longer than you so it’s an automatic given. Hmmn…
It’s mad the people and things others will show respect to and their reasons for doing so. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for respect – when it’s due! I don’t give a flying fuck how old you are, who you are, or what title you hold: NO ONE is above giving respect, and in turn you will receive it. For me, your actions will determine when it’s given, not hot air and the fact that you’ve managed to exist a few years more than me. Soz! And by actions I don’t mean shit that you’ve accumulated, money included. I’m talking on a humanitarian level.
Religion, especially Christianity, has played a big part in the Black community since way back when, and as we all know it comes with commandments that are supposed to be adhered to. This is one of the issues I have with religion. It’s not the commandments themselves as such, but the fact that most like to work the system.
Way too many believe that their wrongdoings are accounted for because they’ve attended church on a regular basis and given it to God. Because they have confessed their sins the board has been wiped clean and they are free to go at it again. #RepentCheatLieRepeat
I’ve mentioned before that I’m not religious, but I do believe in a higher power. Because I choose not to go to church or follow a book, it doesn’t make me a lesser person or a heathen. Again it goes back to respect and what people perceive to be respectable behaviour. Just because you wear the title of Christian it doesn’t mean you get a free pass on fuckery from me.
Practice what you preach or shut the fuck up. I’m sorry, not sorry, but I won’t respect hypocrites. Despite my beliefs not measuring up to some, they are what I live by and I’m good with that. It’s the reason why I can sit here and write this, because I have the belief that the truth will set me free. I can admit (most) of my faults and flaws to the point of putting it out there for all to see.
If someone comes at me I only have myself to blame and will deal with it accordingly. I plead the fifth (or whatever the English equivalent is) on my actions before 18 years old. I was a minor and have mostly apologised or made amends for any transgressions made during that period. As an adult I will own anything after that time. Any fallouts I may have had with people since then can be justified in my mind and I stand by whatever went down. #SayItWithYourChest
Over the years Dale has tried on many hats. He is the proverbial Mr Benn. On two occasions he tried on the councillor hat, and that was the cause of one of the issues I supposedly created for him.
Up until now, I can understand why you’d want to refrain from publicly forming an opinion on what I’ve written. Without posting every piece of proof I have it’s purely my word on the character of the ‘man’. Fortunately for me, he just can’t help himself.
Wait for it!
2015 was to be a memorable year for so many reasons, and this was definitely a highlight! Before I knew the true extent of his deeds and shit fully went down, I went round to visit my mum one sunshiny day. I pulled up, got out of my car and as I looked up I had to double take and make sure it was the right house I’d come to.
A huge, fuck off, purple and yellow sign was in my mums front room window, clearly displaying that its inhabitants were supporting UKIP! #UWhat
I made my way inside, upstairs and straight to the window to take that shit down! My mum had been diagnosed with dementia by then, but I was pretty sure even she wasn’t afflicted with the level of brain damage it would take to be Black and support them. I was right. That takes a truly special case.
When I walked into the kitchen I noticed a pile of flyers and picked one up. I know people say “I couldn’t believe my eyes!”, but that was really the case. Dales smiling face was looking back at me. He was standing as councillor of Chalvey for fucking UKIP. #UKOCK
Before this point I didn’t have a clue that that was the direction he was heading in. Not a scooby! Like the majority of Black households we were Labour supporters. That’s all I’d ever known. When I got old enough to vote I didn’t for the first few years. As far as I was concerned it was a load of bollocks. They all chatted breeze and came with false promises for better futures. I held fast, then Tony Blair managed to dupe me with promising “Things will only get better!” KMT!
I stopped again after that, and that was me until Brexit. After that shambles I made a promise to myself I am never voting again and I mean it. They’ve had their 3 strikes and even though they can’t decide what they’re doing, I’m well and truly out! #Brexodus
I spoke to my twin to find out whether he knew. He told me Dale had mentioned it to him just before the flyers and newspapers came out. Great! Now, I know everyone has a right to live their life and do what they want – but some manoeuvres you gotta question! Which is exactly what I did.
I called him and asked him if he’d bumped his fucking head. UKIP were rooted in racism, division and hate and he had his big Black face as their token poster boy. In CHALVEY of all places. WTF!? He blew it off and said that there were racists in all of the parties and he believed in their policies so didn’t have a problem with standing for them.
I highlighted the fact that he was preaching about immigrants and the immigration procedure and promising to clamp down on the issue, yet he was one of the people he was preaching about! How could he be so hypocritical? Did he think he was safe because he’d spent a bit of time over here? N***a please!
I tried hard to put my point across but it fell on deaf ears. He was a grown man at the end of the day and it was his decision. If he was comfortable that’s his business. I left him to it and that was it until a couple of weeks later when I bumped into someone in Asda.
She mentioned that Dale had canvassed her house and she’d seen an article in the local paper advertising who was standing for what party and was wondering if I supported them too?
Oh, HELL NO!
There’s not a lot of things I feel I need to defend but THIS was one of them. He had mentioned his links with the church and our mothers name in the blurb on his flyers too, so there was no denying we were aquatinted, and also people might question who mum stood for as well. It was time for me to talk up.
I put a post up on Facebook clearly stating that he alone stood for that bullshit party and to my knowledge no other member of the family were affiliated with them. I made my feelings crystal clear!
IN MY OPINION NO SELF RESPECTING BLACK PERSON OR PERSON OF COLOUR WOULD EVER EVEN THINK ABOUT VOTING FOR THEM, LET ALONE HAVING THEIR FACE PLASTERED ALL OVER PUBLICATIONS AS THEIR TOKEN BLACK BOY! END OF!
I’m really not interested in hearing what excuses those particular fuckwits come up with as to why they choose to do so. Just miss me with the bullshit and know I think less of you for doing so. If you really wanted to make a change there are so many different and more palatable ways to go about it than to join and proudly stand for UKIP.
Dale obviously had no qualms about publicly putting his face out there and I felt the same way in publicly making it known what I was about. This however, didn’t go down well with brother dearest.
I was informed by a sibling that he told them I had been disrespectful and caused him shame and embarrassment by voicing my opinion. Yep, you read right. ME! I was the cause of his shame and embarrassment and I shouldn’t have put my beliefs out there. ME!!
Are Ufuckingkipping me!?! #UKUNT
Naturally there’s no shame whatsoever to be had in him putting his face on flyers and knocking on peoples doors begging for votes. There’s no embarrassment to be had at all in proudly plastering your face all over the place and backing such a party. Of course it’s all my fault because I didn’t show a united front or keep my mouth shut.
Alrighty then!
He managed to muster 343 votes that year, and in 2016 he once again stood for UKIP but representing Cippenham Meadows instead. I’m guessing he thought he could appeal more to the White masses, but managed less votes than the previous year at 229.
I’ve gotta laugh at the fact that he could put himself out there and knock on peoples doors to talk himself up, yet he didn’t have the front to speak to me about anything. Not the fact he was doing it or that he was upset by my post. Instead he decided to be a pussyhole and bitch about it to others. Judging by his character he would have fit in well if he had made it through. He has all the right attributes for that particular job.
Don’t put yourself out there if you’re not prepared to take what comes with it. You create your own problems when you choose to follow certain paths, and his choice to take the steps he did was just that – HIS CHOICE! Own it! I am not about pretending. If you’re looking for a muppet you can think again.
There are no strings on me!😉
R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives recently.
A HUGE congratulations to Dina Asher-Smith and Shelly-Ann Fraser-Pryce on your wins in the 100m. #BlackGirlMagic at its finest!
https://nudawndiary.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/pexels-bruno-scramgnon-585759-scaled.jpg16962560NuDawnhttps://nudawndiary.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/IMG_0444-1030x1030.pngNuDawn2019-09-30 15:22:202023-04-02 11:13:57Tales Of The Dales (Part 4)
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