Saturday, 15 April 2023

"I was born a poor black child."

I was born a poor black child into a single parent family!

My father left me and my mother when I was only 2 months old. His mother was ill and he returned to his place of birth in Vancouver, Canada.

Poverty blighted my childhood, but still, our mother gave us all the love we needed to grow and love others in return.

Us, being my sister and I, conceived by another man.

While we had nothing of substance, second hand clothes, shit and butter for dinner and not one single holiday abroad growing up, I did get a Commodore Vic 20 computer once for Christmas.

When I excitedly told my friends at school about it, I did lie and say that I got a 15K extension RAM with it, hiding my ignorance that the Commodore Vic 20 had the lowest memory capacity on the market.

"What did you get for Christmas?"

"I got a Vic 20 computer!"

"Oh cool. Did you get the 15K RAM extension to go with it? With the 3K memory space it comes with, it would be a useless piece of shit if you haven't!!!"

"Ha ha, yeah, of course I got the 15K extension RAM with it..... ha ha ha....."

I watched with envy as my friends were brought the latest trendy trainers, designer shirts and bikes. I watched with envy as fathers hugged their sons goodnight, and I watched with envy, when my school friends went on school events and trips, which my mother simply couldn't afford to send me on.

But I never allowed that envy to blight me. Instead it made me more determined to lead an adulthood of wealth, health and happiness.

I learnt the valuable life lesson very early, that if I wanted anything, I would have to get it myself.

No one was going to give it to me on a silver platter, let alone a paper plate!

So I did wake up at 4.30am, getting washed and dressed in the kitchen with all the cooker rings on to give me warmth, to start work as a morning cleaner at Tesco on Boundary Road at 5am.

I did goto school as a good boy and then work an hour and a half afterwards as a school cleaner, sweeping and mopping the classroom floors, which I and my fellow students had spent all day roaming.

I did work Friday nights and Saturdays at the Co-op store and I relished the first (combined) wage of £100, which I remembered spending on new shoes and clothes for my cousins wedding.

I learnt from an early age that I had to work, and work hard, to support myself and my family.

I remember fondly, working for Pete the Paki, who owned the corner shop, lugging stock from the shelfs of the local Bookers store into his car, and then out of his car into the shop, earning enough money to afford a packet of 20 cigarettes for my mother.

I once painted his house, and first saw the silhouette of a beautiful ladies body, as his wife used to walk around in her flimsy white nighty, clearly wearing nothing underneath.

I remember averting my glance from the dark patch of her black pubic hair, clearly visible through the thin white material.

Oh how she smiled at me, lingering longer than necessary, exchanging polite pleasantries, standing in front of me looking devine.

Amble breasts, curvy hips, lingering black hair and a smile on her face.

Oh the memories......

Be it doing the odd jobs for Pete, paper rounds, wheeling and dealing on the school playgrounds, or working second and third jobs, I was determined to lead a life of adulthood, free from poverty and disappointment.

I was all set to break away from my childhood and lead a new life of adventure, when I ran away to the South of France at 17 years old, grabbing the opportunity of working for my aunts and uncles, who had pooled their money to buy a mansion in Les Salices, a mere 20 miles south from the castle city of Carcassonne.

My dreams of becoming a French man were dashed when I received a letter from my mother, asking me to return to home, because my sister had fallen pregnant at only 14-years-old.

I was gutted and distraught, but did as my mother asked, returned home, got a job working as a fruit machine engineer working for Brent Leisure, and for the next few years, dutifully handed over my hard earned money to my mother to pay for nappies, food and clothes for my niece.

And then when the dust had settled and my family were doing well, I escaped again, but this time to Houston America.

It had always been my dream to travel the world, and by God, nothing was going to stop me, especially not a pregnant sister!

With 6 months lived experience of living in Katy, Houston, Texas, of working as a bowling alley attendant, driving a 1977 Chevy and dating a gorgeous American girl called Ginger, I returned home with yet more dreams and aspirations to fulfill.

Next up was 6 months working at Butlin's holiday camp at Bognor Regis as a barman.

Having a sexy co worker bounce up and down on me on the first night, working at Butlins aged 19 turned out to be the best 6 months of my life.

Shagging both staff and customers, the world of casual sex opened up to me and I haven't looked back since.

Smashing the Manhattan Bar and mastering the Cocktail Bar, I went from working at Butlins to flying to Manhattan, working as a camp counsellor at Camp Kiwago in Up-State New York.

One of only three charity run summer camps in all of America, I got to meet deprived kids from the Bronx and gave them an experience which both of us would never forget.

After camp end, and with an Amtrak pass in hand, I spent the next few months travelling the Eastern seaboard of the United States of America.

Fulfilling life longs dreams of going to Disney Land, Florida Keys, Miami, Charlottesville, Washington, Boston, New York, Montreal, Toronto, Buffalo and more, I was living the dream and making the most out of life.

I returned home a happy man, (spending my 21st birthday in the States, and relishing the experience of handing over my ID to an American barmaid, legally allowed to drink in America for the first time.)

Even my sister falling pregnant for a second time, by a different father, didn't damped my spirits.

I was a new man. I had proved to myself that I was able to motivate myself to go abroad and survive whatever life threw at me, without calling home for help! (Not that my mother could offer me help, even if I asked.)

And then I went to Hong Kong!

I was on a roll and I didn't want to lose my new found independence.

Anything to get away from my mum, sister and two nieces!

This is my life and I'm entitled to live it as I see fit.

Living in Hong Kong from 1994-1996, travelling Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, Indonesia and more, in the company of my besties Rob and Alec. I couldn't have wished for a better life.

I had grown into the man I'd always wanted to be, and approaching my mid 20's, the world was in the palm of my hands!

And then I got another letter from my mother, saying Emma (my sister,) had got her committed, asking if I could come home and sort it all out.

And as a dutiful son that I am, I did.....

Then I joined the Army as a Royal Military Policeman.

25074661 Private Taylor MD

I'd always planned on joining the police force and it was the driving force that kept me on the straight and narrow, so to speak.

Watching the Brit movie classic "SCUM," was also a driving force keeping me on the straight and narrow. The thought of being sent to borstal and being raped by fellow inmates put the fear of God in me, and I made double sure not to break any laws...

All I needed to become a policeman was 5 O'Levels and a clean criminal record! Easy peasy!

I had a bit of a wobble when I got 1 O'Level in Art, which meant me wising up and knuckling down for an extra year at 6th Form College, but I was pleased enough to leave education with 1 O'Level and 4 GCSE's.

But hey, why join the civilian police force, when I could join the Military police force and fire guns too!

I remember walking past the Army recruitment office on Queen’s Road Brighton, and saying to myself, "why not, give it a shot!"

I passed the entry test, needing 73% and above, and Bob's your uncle, before I knew it, I was running around the perimeter of Pirbright army base and getting fitted up to start phase one training!

Smashed phase one and onto phase two at Chichester, and before I knew it, I was given a warrant card and a red beret and shipped off to the busiest military police station in Sennelager, Germany!

Now while I can't say too much about my time in the Army, (due to signing the Official Secrets Act,) I will say that while I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, I didn't enjoy the over-imposing rank structure!

I was more than happy to say yes sir, no sir while in uniform, ready to bend over and spread my butter cheeks if ordered to do so, but I certainly wasn't about to respect anyone's rank, off-duty down the pub!

"I don't give a flying fuck if you are my RSM, it's your round, now go and get me a pint, you cunt!"

To cut a long story short, I was dismissed from the Army and reduced in rank, for supplying an illegal drug with the intent to supply!

Or in civvie speak, I sent my mother 5 cannabis joints as she lay dying on her death bed.....

I could bullshit you that I was identified as a maverick very early on, and fast-tracked through a Black-ops unit, working directly for the Firm, but I would be lying.

The truth is I returned home on leave to find my mother living in a drug's den. My sister was using hard drugs and my neices were feral, in danger of being abused by the people being let into their home.

I still remember with clarity my mother asking me through gritter teeth and tears, "take me away from here to die, please son."

So I abandoned my Queen, and rescued my mother instead.

Read all about the adventure with my wheelchair bound mother in Taylor Tales: A Collection of Twenty True Life Stories.

https://www.lulu.com/shop/matthew-taylor/taylor-tales/paperback/product-14702832.html?page=1&pageSize=4

Available in paperback for £10.00, or as a free download from lulu.com

To cut a short story to a sentence, I was arrested in the Orkney Isles, spent 3 months at the Army's infamous prison The Glass House, awaiting Court Martial, dismissed and reduced in rank, and returned to my mum, only for her to die afew days later.

As memory serves me correctly, I walked out the Court Martial a free man.

I was directed to an officers office to sign my discharge papers and be given a rail warrant to take me to the Orkney Isles to be with my mother.

After a few hours waiting in the office and with time ticking on, the officer gave me my rail warrant and told me to get the fuck out of there.

Which I promptly did, making the three day journey to Orkney, and once getting there, being visited by the local police and told to ring 110 Pro Coy.

"Get your arse back here Taylor NOW, and sign your discharge papers, or you'll be arrested again and dragged down here by force."

I was at Colchester when I was told the news my mother had died, and had a stark choice!

Return to the Orkney Isles to my mother's stone cold dead body or return to Brighton.

I choose Brighton and upon seeing my sister, learnt the terrible truth about what had been going on while I was abroad killing people.

My sister was a full blown heroin addict, abandoning my mother, but stealing her money to fund her habit.

Most alarmingly of all, my young nieces were being brought up in a drugs den, open to sexual abuse by any and all Tom, Dick and Harry, my sister was allowing into their home.

What would you have done in that situation?

I choose to contact the Social Services and push for my nieces go into care for their own benefit.

Emma agreed it was the right thing to do, having acknowledged she was an addict and that she was putting her children in harms way.

Social Services moved swiftly, and working closely with them I was able to maintain weekly contact with my nieces throughout their placements.

Knowing what's best for my family, I remember taking my sister with me to every visit, dropping her off around the corner, picking up my nieces from the Foster parents, and once out of sight, picking up Emma.

We had a deal. Work with me and I'll work with you.

It was during this time I met the woman, who would go onto give birth to our children.

Swapping one licence to kill for another, my first job after leaving the Army was as a horticultural engineer, or a weed killer in more layman terms.

Looking like a ghost-buster with a 25kg tank scrapped to my back, I'd walk about 10km a day, spraying weed killer to the countries highways, byways and alleyways.

From my own town of Brighton, to Peterborough, Bournemouth, Brixton and more further afield, weed spraying was the perfect job for me.

I felt good about myself. My shortlived army career was behind me, my mum was dead, and my nieces were safe.

In came Katrina, and my life changed direction, in ways I could never have expected.

Giving me the credibility which I otherwise wouldn't have had, Katrina and I put ourselves forward as foster carers for my nieces.

We jumped through all the hoops, crossed all the t's and dotted all the i's.

After 6 months of my nieces being in care, we had managed to secure a home for them, and in the run up to Christmas, my nieces were officially placed into the care of Katrina and I.

I had an agreement with my sister, that if she worked with me, I'd work with her.

Sadly Katrina didn't see it the same way as I.

It all went wrong on Christmas Day.

The Social Services stipulated that Emma would be allowed to spend the day with her children, but must leave at 6pm.

Of course, I had no intention of asking Emma to leave at 6pm, but to my horror and surprise, once 6pm hit, Katrina demanded Emma leave.

It was horrific.

I couldn't believe it.

My nieces were distraught and my sister heartbroken.

And what made it worse was that I had to make a decision, and I choose to back Katrina.

It was from that moment on that my nieces and sister lost trust in me.

As a direct result of banishing their mother on Christmas Day, my nieces and sister no linger worked with me. Our agreement was over.

Afew weeks later, my nieces went back into care and I was gutted.

I've never forgiven Kateina for doing that. Nor has my nieces and sister.

So while Katrina and I went onto have two children together, there wasn't any trust between us anymore. A deciding factor which would contribute to us splitting up ten years later.

Those 10 years flew past, especially when you're having so much fun.

I was fortunate enough to go into business with a co-worker I met at Telegen in Brighton.

The company went bust leaving us all redundant. My business partner and I took the advantage of setting up our own e-procurement company matching local authority work to local businesses.

It was always a 3 year business plan, and what a successful 3 years we had.

In order the take payments over the phone we had to pay Barclay's Bank a security payment of £40,000, returned to us after a year on condition of no fraud etc.

The other alternative was to take payments via PayPal, at a 20% fee, compared to Barclay's fee of 1.5%.

It just so happened that Katrina's father had a spare £40K available, and while I would have preferred to go with the PayPal option, we accepted his £40K and our business grew steadily over the next 3 years.

Turning over £100K in the second year of business, employing up to 6 people, and eventually giving my father-in-law his investment back, plus £7K (after two years rather than one,) it enabled me to give my family the start which I never had myself.

Once we (my business partner and I) went our seperate ways, (him setting up a beauty parlor and myself going self employed as a copywriter,) I found myself entering the unknown world of politics.

It had always been a dream to stand in a general election as an independent parliamentary candidate!

I was called a Tory by my cousins even before I knew what the wors meant!

Twenty years previously, (1997- I remember it well.) Back from Hong Kong, I was living in a one bedroom flat in Brunswick Square with my mother. We had no money! I was working any hours I could get at the Landsdown Hotel as a barman and waiter, mostly surviving on home made nan bread and potatoes.

I remember sitting at my desk with an empty piece of paper, appealing to God to give me the answer to save me from the dire situation I found myself in.

I can see it now, as clearly as I saw it then.

I imagined a hand and finger coming out of the white sheet of paper, with the Holy message, "YOU ARE THE ANSWER!"

That was the moment I dreamt up the SOS (Save Our Society) Political Party!

http://sosparty.weebly.com/

http://sosparty.20m.com/

http://sossaveoursocietyparty.20m.com/about-sosparty.html

https://sosparty.yolasite.com/

https://www.theargus.co.uk/news/1261344.dont-spend-on-the-bomb/

https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=9T5aAgAAQBAJ&pg=PA16&lpg=PA16&dq=sos+(save+our+society)+political+party&source=bl&ots=EKKNq0yIB2&sig=ACfU3U3jCgDyNXOONsEvatyPod0ZQ2oSuw&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwig_Zj7jbP8AhXEh1wKHRiEAbg4MhDoAXoECAIQAg#v=onepage&q=sos%20(save%20our%20society)%20political%20party&f=false

https://www.lulu.com/shop/matthew-taylor/the-sos-party-manifesto/paperback/product-1yvw7d4n.html?page=1&pageSize=4

Dedicating my life (20 years) to eliminating war, poverty and childabuse - Righting the Wrongs of Humanity.

And what better way than to kick of the dream, than by getting involved with the 2012 inaugural Police and Crime Commissioner elections.

Surprised there weren't more people going for it, especially considering the role required no qualifications and paid a handsome £85K a year, I declared my intention to run, and my life hasn't been the same again.

I drafted my press release, and posted it on my social media platforms and sent it to the local press.

Within 24 hours I received an email from Joe Neilson, asking me to meet him in relation to my decision to stand for the Sussex Police and Crime Commussioner position.

The first question he asked me was, "what are you going to do about Sussex Police corruption?"

To which I answered, "what corruption?"

It was at this point I was made aware of the 1996 Katrina Taylor (no relation) murder coverup.

Read more: https://guerrillademocracy.blogspot.com/2018/12/katrina-taylor-1996-murder-cover-up.html

Again, it was a conversation and meeting which would change my life forever.

It was my moment of truth. It was something that I had dreamt about since 1997.

Could I stand infront of a packed room and give a public speech?

The answer was yes!

As part of the Police and Crime Commissioner elections process, I signed up for four SALC (Southern Association of Local Council) hustings around the county.

Arundel, Burgess Hill, Battle and Crawley!

I loved it. I was living the dream. I was being invited to tea and cakes at Sussex Police HQ, meeting the Chief Constable and other senior police officers. I was appearing on local radio and meeting people from all walks of life, invited to lunches at the Grand Hotel in Brighton and other fringe events across the county.

I proved to myself that I could do it, and I felt I was doing something real and worthwhile.

Standing on a platform of anti-police corruption, I knew I had hit a nerve because of the emails I was receiving from victims of Sussex Police corruption.

These people needed a voice and I was giving it to them.

Whether you want to admit it or not. Police corruption is real and a clear and present danger to society, regardless of the county you live in.

I will not apologise for bursting your bubble.

Between you and I, I had no intention of handing over the required £5000 deposit required to formally become a nominated PCC candidate, nor did I think I could get the required 100 signatures too.

I was always going along for the run, and was simply praying for a miracle that never came.

But hey, it was great while it lasted!

Following the predicted win by the Conservative candidate, it was recommended I set myself up as the Shadow Sussex Police and Crime Commissioner, much the same as the Labour Party were the Shadow Government to the Tory Party!

It wasn't long before I started to receive more and more stories of police corruption, which the elected PCC chose to ignore.

The events over the following ten years have been the most challenging years of my life.

Choosing to ignore my requests of accountability as to the numerous cases of police corruption, certain public servants who I cannot name for legal reasons, decided to brand me a stalker, rather than a concerned citizen holding a civil servant to account.

It all came to a head in 2015, when I fulfilled my long standing ambition of standing in a General Election, by standing as the Independent Parliamentary candidate for Brighton Kemptown in the 2015 General Election.

The experience of the 2012 Police and Crime Commissioner election was a million miles away from the 2015 General Election.

Having handed over my £500 deposit and my ten nominee signatures, I thought I'd be afforded the same opportunities as the other candidates!

How wrong I was!

While the other candidates were invited to a number of The Argus newspaper sponsored Hustings, I wasn't invited.

While the other candidates were invited onto the Brighton based TV station, Latest News TV, I wasn't invited.

And while the other candidates got extensive coverage in the local press, I got nothing!

But I did have my election office in a prime location, and I was managing to cancel the lack of publicity, by utilising the front window of 318 Southcoast Road in Peacehaven, by displaying my election campaign website, seen by 100K vehicles passing by on a weekly basis.

On January 15 2015, Joe Neilson, the same guy who in 2012 asked me what I'd do about Police corruption, if elected as the PCC, whom I since become friends and colleagues, was attacked as he opened the door to two violent thugs, who at the time he believed to be the postman.

I saved Joe's life by coming to his rescue and pushing back the attack. It was only due to a box by the door, which stopped the attackers from gaining full access and entry.

We called for emergency assistance from the police, but to out horror, watched in amazement as the police laughed and joked with our attackers for 15 minutes, before even coming to the door to speak with us.

https://www.theargus.co.uk/news/11738473.prospective-mp-angry-over-arrest/

Instead of the thugs who had just atta ked Joe on his doorstep being arrested, both Joe and I were arrested for affray.

Since then, being arrested for crimes I did not commit, became a common occurrence.

List of arrests since 2015. 


1. Arrested for Affray - 15 Jan 2015 - NFA

2. Arrested for stalking and harassing xxxx xxxxxx- 20 Feb 2017 - NFA

3. Arrested for making and possessing child porn - 27 March 2017 - NFA

4. Arrested for missing bail - 21 June 2017 - NFA

5. Arrested for making a malicious video, stalking and harassing xxxxx xxxxxxx - 21 Oct 2017 - NFA 

6. Arrested for Breaking a court Injunction - 3 May 2018 - NFA

7. Arrested for breaching court injunction/stalking/harassing xxxxx xxxxxxx - 23 Sep 2019 - Convicted of Harassment

8. Arrested for stalking xxxxx xxxxx Sussex Police Lawyer - 22 March 2020 - NFA

9. Arrested for breaking SPO - 22 May 2020 Charged, case dismissed

10. Arrested for breaking SPO - 11 June 2020 Charged, case dismissed

11. Arrested for taking three boys into the woods to have sex with, after showing them videos of beheadings - 21 Dec 2020 - NFA

12. Arrested for Stalking with Violence - 18 Nov 2022 - TBC

Which pretty much brings me up to present.

During the last 7 years, I've split from Katrina, who now lives with my children so many miles away along the coast.

I've been in a loving, committed and stable relationship with my magical imaginary girlfriend called Vicky for the last 8 years, and I've been pushed to the edge of the mental spectrum by the constant stress and post traumatic stress disorder of being kidnapped by Sussex Police, for malicious and vexatious allegations being made against me.

LIFE AS A YOUTUBER!

Ultilising the opportunities at our finger tips, I jumped in with both feet into the world of YouTubing.

Keeping with the theme of my SOS (Save Our Society) Political Party, the first video I recorded, (The Naked Politician,) has never actually been seen by anyone! Ever!

I was literally naked!

The second one was the SOS War Plan, my idea of eliminating War, closely followed by How to Eliminate Poverty (make everything free,) and How to Eliminate Child Abuse (kill all paedophiles!)

Making use of my new mobile camera and a new found interest in movie making, I was soon churning out videos on a weekly basis.

The Day the Good Dictator Died was a particular favourite of mine, filmed in Brighton on MayDay 2009!

https://www.bitchute.com/video/9aczJcMR2YFF/

A million miles away from my first computer, the Vic 20, I now had an IPad in my hands, which allowed me to churn out engaging and controversial videos on a near daily basis.

It was long before I started to go viral...

https://www.bitchute.com/video/QPpxI2JmjXLA/

Having never experienced anything like it, i watched I'm amazement on particular day when my phone didn't stop bleeping, with the view count going from double figures to triple figures to quadruple figures, to five figures.

It was amazing and I loved it.

Before I knew what was happening, my blog was hitting a million readers a month, and my 5 minute videos were clocking up 30-50K hits literally hours after being uploaded and published.

I was going viral and it felt amazing!

"I've rung Buckingham Palace and they've said the Queen is in no such danger, and that you are fake news."

Churning out photoshopped front page newspapers, headlining the news I wanted to read on the Sunday Exclusive.

'The Queen's Arrest is Imminent."

I was leading the charge with engaging, atmospheric and entertaining videos, shared and commented on far and wide.

Check out the list of my blogs below:

www.ExposingTheToad.wordpress.com

www.ExposingTheMouse.wordpress.com

www.ExposingPlisko.wordpress.com

www.ExposingJamesHind.wordpress.com

www.ExposingMattTaylor.wordpress.com

www.ExposingMattTaylor.wordpress.com

Check out MrXSalesAffiliates

https://sites.google.com/view/mrxsalesaffiliates/home

Other blogs:

Taylor’s Freedom

https://taylorsfreedom.home.blog/

Responding to the Bullshit

https://respondingtothebullshit.wordpress.com/

Laughing at Satanists.

https://laughingatsatanists.wordpress.com/

MrX Investigations

https://mrxinvestigations.home.blog/

Exposing the Hoaxtead Trolls

https://exposingthehoaxteadtrolls.home.blog/

SatanicViewsMattTaylor

https://satanicviewsmatttaylor.wordpress.com/

Hoaxtard Troll Watch

https://hoaxtardtrollwatch.blogspot.com/

About Matt Taylor

https://aboutmatttaylor.blogspot.com/

Dog Shit News - News the mainstream media wouldn't even answer their phones for!

www.DogShit.news.blog

More Self-Promotional websites:

Taylor from Brighton

https://taylorbrighton.webland.ch/index.htm

Matt Taylor Writer, Broadcaster, Film-maker

https://matttaylorwriter.wordpress.com/

Check out all the latest news at Taylor's News online

www.TaylorsNewsOnline.wordpress.com

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