I speak of Frankie whose surname mustn’t be mentioned for now. – the guy that stole my Camera and who’s Brother Robbed my 75-year-old Alziemers victim with very poor mobility and other health problems. The good cop in their sick good cop bad cop game they play.

Anyway, he shows up at my front door late last night like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. But the daft cunt can’t even lie properly. I’d love to see them in a police barracks or cop shop. They would sing like canaries and I know it for a fact. I said “Fuck of man , you stole my camera fucksake!” He says “What camera” or “Did I fuck”. Something like that anyway. He then goes on to say, and I paraphrase, “That’s came fae Gayle and Kimberly talking on the phone ‘cos *bleep* tried to sell Kimberly the camera”. Bad liar Frankie. He goes on “I wisnae even in yer kitchen last night” I had told him it had been stole out of the kitchen when he was in and I was calling him back out while I was inspecting the damage to the Garden Shed Box. He took ages coming out and he complained that I had used his real name. Why are you worried about yer real name being used if you havnae done anything sunshine? Maybe he’s worried the polis will strike him off the payroll for being involved in criminality? And more pertinently *bleep* wasn’t in the kitchen or vicinity so how could he have stolen the camera? “Eh oh eh oh.” “Just fuck off and don’t let the gate hit yer arse on the way out.”