A small tool to view real-world ActivityPub objects as JSON! Enter a URL
or username from Mastodon or a similar service below, and we'll send a
request with
the right
Accept
header
to the server to view the underlying object.
{
"@context": "https://www.w3.org/ns/activitystreams",
"type": "OrderedCollectionPage",
"orderedItems": [
{
"type": "Create",
"actor": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"object": {
"type": "Note",
"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128468203943845888",
"attributedTo": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"content": "I have almost finished a book about a serial killer. I will be posting it here one chapter at a time. Young John but was a small child when he inadvertently murdered his newborn brother on Christmas day. From that day forth he found torture and pain easy to inflict. Is a troubled childhood to blame? Or a drug fuelled adolescence? His slow descent into insanity as he tells of his talks with his shrinks while battling the demon of his mother abandoning him as a child all the while telling of why he is not to blame for his many sick, sometimes stomach churning kills makes a brilliant read for any fans of gore or torture. This guy makes Patrick Bateman look like Mother Theresa.<br />",
"to": [
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],
"cc": [
"https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/followers"
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"url": "https://www.minds.com/newsfeed/1128468203943845888",
"published": "2020-07-10T23:29:45+00:00",
"source": {
"content": "I have almost finished a book about a serial killer. I will be posting it here one chapter at a time. Young John but was a small child when he inadvertently murdered his newborn brother on Christmas day. From that day forth he found torture and pain easy to inflict. Is a troubled childhood to blame? Or a drug fuelled adolescence? His slow descent into insanity as he tells of his talks with his shrinks while battling the demon of his mother abandoning him as a child all the while telling of why he is not to blame for his many sick, sometimes stomach churning kills makes a brilliant read for any fans of gore or torture. This guy makes Patrick Bateman look like Mother Theresa.\n",
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128468203943845888/activity"
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{
"type": "Create",
"actor": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"object": {
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128467939340496896",
"attributedTo": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"content": "I have almost finished a book about a serial killer. I will be posting it here one chapter at a time. Young John but was a small child when he inadvertently murdered his newborn brother on Christmas day. From that day forth he found torture and pain easy to inflict. Is a troubled childhood to blame? Or a drug fuelled adolescence? His slow descent into insanity as he tells of his talks with his shrinks while battling the demon of his mother abandoning him as a child all the while telling of why he is not to blame for his many sick, sometimes stomach churning kills makes a brilliant read for any fans of gore or torture. This guy makes Patrick Bateman look like Mother Theresa.<br />",
"to": [
"https://www.w3.org/ns/activitystreams#Public"
],
"cc": [
"https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/followers"
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"published": "2020-07-10T23:28:42+00:00",
"source": {
"content": "I have almost finished a book about a serial killer. I will be posting it here one chapter at a time. Young John but was a small child when he inadvertently murdered his newborn brother on Christmas day. From that day forth he found torture and pain easy to inflict. Is a troubled childhood to blame? Or a drug fuelled adolescence? His slow descent into insanity as he tells of his talks with his shrinks while battling the demon of his mother abandoning him as a child all the while telling of why he is not to blame for his many sick, sometimes stomach churning kills makes a brilliant read for any fans of gore or torture. This guy makes Patrick Bateman look like Mother Theresa.\n",
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128467939340496896/activity"
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{
"type": "Create",
"actor": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"object": {
"type": "Note",
"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128411839920726016",
"attributedTo": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"content": "Insects For Christmas<br />It was the last Sunday of September. A clear bright day, not a cloud in the sky. <br />My partner, Donna, suggested a barbecue. It was only 10am, though. We compromised that if the weather was the same by noon then we would fire up and eat alfresco.<br />Noon came, the temperature rose, I headed to the supermarket to buy sausage, burgers and steaks. <br />When I got back home my friend, Ste, was there.<br />\"I knew you would be having a barbecue today, I've brought lamb chops and some burgers.\"<br />I lit the barbie and we chatted idly about anything and everything.<br />3 doors down from us lived Sarah, with her feral 7 year old, Lewis. I couldn't stand them. She was a single mother and held no discipline over her brat whatsoever. He threw stones at windows, snapped off car mirrors, pissed in the street and wouldn't think twice about calling you a fucking cunt if you ever reprimanded him. Trying to talk to his mother was useless.<br />\"What do you expect me to do?\"<br />For some unfathomable reason, Donna got on with her. <br />\"I'm going to invite Sarah.\"<br />\"Please don't.\"<br />\"She is not that bad.\"<br />I knew it was pointless arguing. Donna always got her own way in the end.<br />Ten minutes later Sarah arrived with her demon offspring. <br />The first thing he started doing was to kick his football against my newly erect fence. I asked him not to, he carried on.<br />I looked at Sarah, She asked him not to. he ignored her.<br />My friend Ste, a six foot tall 20 stone Rastafarian went over and took the ball off him.<br />The spawn of Satan spat in his face. He then proceeded to run over to the swing, push my 4 year old disabled son off it and smash the seat right into his face.<br />\"Get your fucking kid out my garden! Right fucking now!\"<br />No apology from Sarah, she dragged her kicking and screaming brat out the gate.<br />The impact of the swing smashing into my sons face had knocked two teeth out. I was fuming, absolutely lived!<br />It was only Donna that stopped me going round and demanding that Sarah punish the little bastard.<br />\"Leave it,\" said Ste, \"she wont do anything anyway.\"<br />It was true, the little shit was kicking his ball against cars on the front.<br />It was the last time Sarah ever entered our property. She even had the cheek to give me dirty looks if we met in the street.<br />Stupid fucking cow!<br />We moved house a few weeks later.<br />CHRISTMAS EVE<br />I knew from friends that Sarah still lived there so I concocted a plan.<br />Just after 2pm I went to our local pet superstore.<br />I bought a pound of maggots, a box full of beetles, a box of locusts and a box full of crickets.<br />11pm, all the lights in Sarah's house were out, quietly, I opened the letterbox and poured the insects through. all the lot of them. <br />Then I posted a note that simply said MERRY CHRISTMAS BITCH.<br />",
"to": [
"https://www.w3.org/ns/activitystreams#Public"
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"cc": [
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"url": "https://www.minds.com/newsfeed/1128411839920726016",
"published": "2020-07-10T19:45:47+00:00",
"source": {
"content": "Insects For Christmas\nIt was the last Sunday of September. A clear bright day, not a cloud in the sky. \nMy partner, Donna, suggested a barbecue. It was only 10am, though. We compromised that if the weather was the same by noon then we would fire up and eat alfresco.\nNoon came, the temperature rose, I headed to the supermarket to buy sausage, burgers and steaks. \nWhen I got back home my friend, Ste, was there.\n\"I knew you would be having a barbecue today, I've brought lamb chops and some burgers.\"\nI lit the barbie and we chatted idly about anything and everything.\n3 doors down from us lived Sarah, with her feral 7 year old, Lewis. I couldn't stand them. She was a single mother and held no discipline over her brat whatsoever. He threw stones at windows, snapped off car mirrors, pissed in the street and wouldn't think twice about calling you a fucking cunt if you ever reprimanded him. Trying to talk to his mother was useless.\n\"What do you expect me to do?\"\nFor some unfathomable reason, Donna got on with her. \n\"I'm going to invite Sarah.\"\n\"Please don't.\"\n\"She is not that bad.\"\nI knew it was pointless arguing. Donna always got her own way in the end.\nTen minutes later Sarah arrived with her demon offspring. \nThe first thing he started doing was to kick his football against my newly erect fence. I asked him not to, he carried on.\nI looked at Sarah, She asked him not to. he ignored her.\nMy friend Ste, a six foot tall 20 stone Rastafarian went over and took the ball off him.\nThe spawn of Satan spat in his face. He then proceeded to run over to the swing, push my 4 year old disabled son off it and smash the seat right into his face.\n\"Get your fucking kid out my garden! Right fucking now!\"\nNo apology from Sarah, she dragged her kicking and screaming brat out the gate.\nThe impact of the swing smashing into my sons face had knocked two teeth out. I was fuming, absolutely lived!\nIt was only Donna that stopped me going round and demanding that Sarah punish the little bastard.\n\"Leave it,\" said Ste, \"she wont do anything anyway.\"\nIt was true, the little shit was kicking his ball against cars on the front.\nIt was the last time Sarah ever entered our property. She even had the cheek to give me dirty looks if we met in the street.\nStupid fucking cow!\nWe moved house a few weeks later.\nCHRISTMAS EVE\nI knew from friends that Sarah still lived there so I concocted a plan.\nJust after 2pm I went to our local pet superstore.\nI bought a pound of maggots, a box full of beetles, a box of locusts and a box full of crickets.\n11pm, all the lights in Sarah's house were out, quietly, I opened the letterbox and poured the insects through. all the lot of them. \nThen I posted a note that simply said MERRY CHRISTMAS BITCH.\n",
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128411839920726016/activity"
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{
"type": "Create",
"actor": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"object": {
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128410688513708032",
"attributedTo": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"content": "MILK <br />It started on a Wednesday, it looked like a fine day when I drew back the curtains just after 9am, a few clouds hovered but the sky was otherwise clear.<br />Following my normal morning routine I showered then went downstairs.<br />I put the kettle on to make my morning coffee, a caffeine kick start to the day.<br />There was no milk in the fridge, not to worry, the milkman left a pint on my doorstep every morning. After loading the cup with two heaped teaspoons of Nescafe I went to retrieve it.<br />It wasn't there, had the milkman forgot about me? highly unlikely. He had delivered my milk everyday without fail for over 4 years.<br />Maybe he was ill.<br />I went to the shop at the bottom of the road and bought a pint.<br />The following day my milk was missing again, and the day after. <br />Friday evening came and the milkman came to collect his money, he assured me that he had delivered my pint of semi skimmed every morning. That left only one conclusion, someone was stealing it.<br />Monday morning it was not there again. <br />Tuesday, I got up at 8 to try catch the thief, it was too late though, it had already disappeared.<br />That night I contacted the milkman and told him not to deliver until the following Monday.<br />At the shop I bought two pints, I drank one then crushed the bottle into a fine powder. <br />Carefully, I prised the foil lid off the other bottle and put the crushed glass in. <br />I was certain that the thief would not notice the slight creases on the top. That night, just after 1am I put it on my doorstep.<br />Just as I had thought, it disappeared the following morning.<br />At 11am an ambulance pulled up outside number 26. The young man who lived there got carried out on a stretcher.<br />I do not know if the occupier of number 26 was the milk thief, But I do know that my milk never got stolen again.",
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"url": "https://www.minds.com/newsfeed/1128410688513708032",
"published": "2020-07-10T19:41:12+00:00",
"source": {
"content": "MILK \nIt started on a Wednesday, it looked like a fine day when I drew back the curtains just after 9am, a few clouds hovered but the sky was otherwise clear.\nFollowing my normal morning routine I showered then went downstairs.\nI put the kettle on to make my morning coffee, a caffeine kick start to the day.\nThere was no milk in the fridge, not to worry, the milkman left a pint on my doorstep every morning. After loading the cup with two heaped teaspoons of Nescafe I went to retrieve it.\nIt wasn't there, had the milkman forgot about me? highly unlikely. He had delivered my milk everyday without fail for over 4 years.\nMaybe he was ill.\nI went to the shop at the bottom of the road and bought a pint.\nThe following day my milk was missing again, and the day after. \nFriday evening came and the milkman came to collect his money, he assured me that he had delivered my pint of semi skimmed every morning. That left only one conclusion, someone was stealing it.\nMonday morning it was not there again. \nTuesday, I got up at 8 to try catch the thief, it was too late though, it had already disappeared.\nThat night I contacted the milkman and told him not to deliver until the following Monday.\nAt the shop I bought two pints, I drank one then crushed the bottle into a fine powder. \nCarefully, I prised the foil lid off the other bottle and put the crushed glass in. \nI was certain that the thief would not notice the slight creases on the top. That night, just after 1am I put it on my doorstep.\nJust as I had thought, it disappeared the following morning.\nAt 11am an ambulance pulled up outside number 26. The young man who lived there got carried out on a stretcher.\nI do not know if the occupier of number 26 was the milk thief, But I do know that my milk never got stolen again.",
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128410688513708032/activity"
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{
"type": "Create",
"actor": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"object": {
"type": "Note",
"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128409951551041536",
"attributedTo": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"content": "MILK <br />It started on a Wednesday, it looked like a fine day when I drew back the curtains just after 9am, a few clouds hovered but the sky was otherwise clear.<br />Following my normal morning routine I showered then went downstairs.<br />I put the kettle on to make my morning coffee, a caffeine kick start to the day.<br />There was no milk in the fridge, not to worry, the milkman left a pint on my doorstep every morning. After loading the cup with two heaped teaspoons of Nescafe I went to retrieve it.<br />It wasn't there, had the milkman forgot about me? highly unlikely. He had delivered my milk everyday without fail for over 4 years.<br />Maybe he was ill.<br />I went to the shop at the bottom of the road and bought a pint.<br />The following day my milk was missing again, and the day after. <br />Friday evening came and the milkman came to collect his money, he assured me that he had delivered my pint of semi skimmed every morning. That left only one conclusion, someone was stealing it.<br />Monday morning it was not there again. <br />Tuesday, I got up at 8 to try catch the thief, it was too late though, it had already disappeared.<br />That night I contacted the milkman and told him not to deliver until the following Monday.<br />At the shop I bought two pints, I drank one then crushed the bottle into a fine powder. <br />Carefully, I prised the foil lid off the other bottle and put the crushed glass in. <br />I was certain that the thief would not notice the slight creases on the top. That night, just after 1am I put it on my doorstep.<br />Just as I had thought, it disappeared the following morning.<br />At 11am an ambulance pulled up outside number 26. The young man who lived there got carried out on a stretcher.<br />I do not know if the occupier of number 26 was the milk thief, But I do know that my milk never got stolen again.",
"to": [
"https://www.w3.org/ns/activitystreams#Public"
],
"cc": [
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"url": "https://www.minds.com/newsfeed/1128409951551041536",
"published": "2020-07-10T19:38:16+00:00",
"source": {
"content": "MILK \nIt started on a Wednesday, it looked like a fine day when I drew back the curtains just after 9am, a few clouds hovered but the sky was otherwise clear.\nFollowing my normal morning routine I showered then went downstairs.\nI put the kettle on to make my morning coffee, a caffeine kick start to the day.\nThere was no milk in the fridge, not to worry, the milkman left a pint on my doorstep every morning. After loading the cup with two heaped teaspoons of Nescafe I went to retrieve it.\nIt wasn't there, had the milkman forgot about me? highly unlikely. He had delivered my milk everyday without fail for over 4 years.\nMaybe he was ill.\nI went to the shop at the bottom of the road and bought a pint.\nThe following day my milk was missing again, and the day after. \nFriday evening came and the milkman came to collect his money, he assured me that he had delivered my pint of semi skimmed every morning. That left only one conclusion, someone was stealing it.\nMonday morning it was not there again. \nTuesday, I got up at 8 to try catch the thief, it was too late though, it had already disappeared.\nThat night I contacted the milkman and told him not to deliver until the following Monday.\nAt the shop I bought two pints, I drank one then crushed the bottle into a fine powder. \nCarefully, I prised the foil lid off the other bottle and put the crushed glass in. \nI was certain that the thief would not notice the slight creases on the top. That night, just after 1am I put it on my doorstep.\nJust as I had thought, it disappeared the following morning.\nAt 11am an ambulance pulled up outside number 26. The young man who lived there got carried out on a stretcher.\nI do not know if the occupier of number 26 was the milk thief, But I do know that my milk never got stolen again.",
"mediaType": "text/plain"
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128409951551041536/activity"
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"actor": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128402265269690368",
"attributedTo": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"content": "My 19 year old son Reece is severely autistic. When he was 13 he was in a respite centre and he was given 10x the dose of his medications. This led to a stay in hospital. 2 years later he was assaulted and dragged down a corridor by a member of staff at school. there was a trial but she got off with probation. Where is the justice?",
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"url": "https://www.minds.com/newsfeed/1128402265269690368",
"published": "2020-07-10T19:07:44+00:00",
"source": {
"content": "My 19 year old son Reece is severely autistic. When he was 13 he was in a respite centre and he was given 10x the dose of his medications. This led to a stay in hospital. 2 years later he was assaulted and dragged down a corridor by a member of staff at school. there was a trial but she got off with probation. Where is the justice?",
"mediaType": "text/plain"
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},
"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128402265269690368/activity"
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{
"type": "Create",
"actor": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"object": {
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966/entities/urn:activity:1128400369902346240",
"attributedTo": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/780124854954237966",
"content": "I am sat in my room. The room that has been my home for the previous five years. After a long hard think about the situation I find myself in. I have decided that I no longer want to reside in this world. Before I do the deed though I want to share with you my secrets. You have no doubt heard my name. It was splattered all over the tabloid papers for almost two months during my court appearances. I have been dubbed many things, from Evil bastard to son of Satan, and many names in between. <br />I wish to set the record straight. Numerous allegations have been made about me in the years I have been held captive in this hospital. Some of them, no most of them are lies. Outrageous falsehoods made up by the gutter press just so that you, the readers will buy their papers and line the pockets of the editors.<br />I am a guilty man. That I cannot deny. I have committed acts that would repulse any sane person. I, however, am not sane. This is not my opinion, it is the verdict of many doctors who have lots of letters before and after their names.<br />When I was convicted of killing 27 people, on the first day of June in 2008, many people, by that I mean you called for the reinstatement of the death penalty. Soon you will have your wish. I am not long in this world.<br />I will start at the very beginning. I shall tell you every detail of my life. Then you, the reader can decide if I am mad, bad or just a product of my enviroment.<br />I was born on the 25th July in the year of our lord 1976. I was born ten weeks premature. The doctors told my parents to pray for me. I was only given a ten percent chance of survival.<br />How ironic is it that a baby that was practically written off would go on to kill more than 40 people before he reached the age of 35.<br />It is true. I have killed in total 43 people. The police only charged me with 27 because that is all they could link me to.<br />My earliest memory is from when I was three years old.<br />It was Christmas Day. I was until two weeks previous an only child. Adored by my father, Spoilt by my slut of a mother. (I will explain why she is a slut later)<br />On the 8th December my slut of a mother went into hospital. When she returned three days later, she brought with her a screaming bundle of bones that was thrust into my face whilst continuously wailing. This wailing never stopped. Not for a single second. It wailed all day and it wailed all night. Now you would think that a mother of a wailing baby would attend to it. Well, not the slut who was my mother.<br />I had to listen to it constantly. It lay in a crib at the bottom of my bed, and it wailed. <br />My father stopped adoring me and the slut stopped spoiling me.<br />I have to go now. It is time for my dinner. I am allowed out of my room for the next forty minutes. I shall be back at one pm to tell you what happened on Christmas Day.<br />Hello readers. I have returned from dinner. It was quite a nice meal. I had grilled salmon with a cheese sauce, although I have to say the sauce was a little thick, I enjoyed it though. The broccoli that accompanied it was cooked to perfection. Slightly crunchy while still containing enough moisture to fall apart. For dessert, I had a banana. I had the option of apple crumble with custard, but I am not a great fan of apples. <br />Now, what was I telling you about. Oh yes, Christmas Day.<br />It had been quite exciting. I did not receive many presents but the toys I got were to my liking. For some reason unbeknown to me, IT had not wailed at all, not once did that shrill piercing cry emanate from its lungs.<br />We had lots of visitors, most of them ruffled my hair. Some did not. All of them said how beautiful IT was. In the evening when the last of the visitors had departed IT started wailing again.<br />I was put to bed by the slut and was sound asleep when I was awoken by IT wailing again!<br />I climbed out of my bed and walked sleepily to the crib in which IT lay. The lamppost that was outside my bedroom window cast an eerily glow over ITS face. ITS eyes were closed yet it still wailed.<br />I took one of my pillows, the one with a picture of a rocket on it and I placed it over ITS face. <br />At first the wailing was muffled, muted even. Then slowly the wailing stopped. I decided that was what I would do. Every time IT wailed I would put my pillow over ITS face. I climbed back into bed and for the first time since IT came into our lives I slept soundly. <br />The following morning the wailing returned. I was awakened by it. As I stirred, I realized it was a different kind of wailing. The slut was stood at the bottom of my bed looking down into the crib.<br />She was wailing louder than IT had ever wailed. She was screaming at the top of her voice, “my baby my baby.”<br />My father entered the room and stood beside her. He looked into the crib then told me to go downstairs. I did not understand what was happening, but I followed his orders and went down stairs into the coldness of the lounge.<br />Two minutes later my father came downstairs, ignoring me completely he walked straight out of the door. <br />My father returned after a minute or two later and he was accompanied by our neighbours, Mr and Mrs Sampson. Mr Sampson sat beside me while Mrs Sampson and my father went upstairs to where the slut was still wailing. Not long after I saw some blue lights flashing outside the window followed by a rather loud knock at the door. <br />Mr Sampson opened the door and four people entered the house. Two policemen and two ambulance men. I knew who the were because I recognized them from the television shows that father and the slut watched.<br />They all went upstairs to where the slut was still wailing. They came down shortly afterwards. The ambulance men took IT away while the police sat on the sofa and started talking to my parents. <br />I was taken next door by Mr Sampson and was given some Weetabix with sterilized milk. I had never tasted sterilized milk before and found it quite pleasant.<br />I stayed with Mr Sampson for quite a long time until my father came to take me home.<br />When we entered our house all the same visitors from the previous day where there. Unlike the day before though, not one of them was smiling or laughing. The slut was sat in the corner wailing. I could not decide what was worse. The slut wailing or IT wailing. I was tempted to go and get a pillow to put over her face. She held out her arms and said, “come here John.” I walked uneasily to her and sat on her knee while she kept repeating the word why, over and over. The ambulance men never brought IT back and things were never the same after that day.<br />I SUPPOSE YOU COULD SAY THAT WAS VICTIM NUMBER ONE!<br />",
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"url": "https://www.minds.com/newsfeed/1128400369902346240",
"published": "2020-07-10T19:00:12+00:00",
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"content": "I am sat in my room. The room that has been my home for the previous five years. After a long hard think about the situation I find myself in. I have decided that I no longer want to reside in this world. Before I do the deed though I want to share with you my secrets. You have no doubt heard my name. It was splattered all over the tabloid papers for almost two months during my court appearances. I have been dubbed many things, from Evil bastard to son of Satan, and many names in between. \nI wish to set the record straight. Numerous allegations have been made about me in the years I have been held captive in this hospital. Some of them, no most of them are lies. Outrageous falsehoods made up by the gutter press just so that you, the readers will buy their papers and line the pockets of the editors.\nI am a guilty man. That I cannot deny. I have committed acts that would repulse any sane person. I, however, am not sane. This is not my opinion, it is the verdict of many doctors who have lots of letters before and after their names.\nWhen I was convicted of killing 27 people, on the first day of June in 2008, many people, by that I mean you called for the reinstatement of the death penalty. Soon you will have your wish. I am not long in this world.\nI will start at the very beginning. I shall tell you every detail of my life. Then you, the reader can decide if I am mad, bad or just a product of my enviroment.\nI was born on the 25th July in the year of our lord 1976. I was born ten weeks premature. The doctors told my parents to pray for me. I was only given a ten percent chance of survival.\nHow ironic is it that a baby that was practically written off would go on to kill more than 40 people before he reached the age of 35.\nIt is true. I have killed in total 43 people. The police only charged me with 27 because that is all they could link me to.\nMy earliest memory is from when I was three years old.\nIt was Christmas Day. I was until two weeks previous an only child. Adored by my father, Spoilt by my slut of a mother. (I will explain why she is a slut later)\nOn the 8th December my slut of a mother went into hospital. When she returned three days later, she brought with her a screaming bundle of bones that was thrust into my face whilst continuously wailing. This wailing never stopped. Not for a single second. It wailed all day and it wailed all night. Now you would think that a mother of a wailing baby would attend to it. Well, not the slut who was my mother.\nI had to listen to it constantly. It lay in a crib at the bottom of my bed, and it wailed. \nMy father stopped adoring me and the slut stopped spoiling me.\nI have to go now. It is time for my dinner. I am allowed out of my room for the next forty minutes. I shall be back at one pm to tell you what happened on Christmas Day.\nHello readers. I have returned from dinner. It was quite a nice meal. I had grilled salmon with a cheese sauce, although I have to say the sauce was a little thick, I enjoyed it though. The broccoli that accompanied it was cooked to perfection. Slightly crunchy while still containing enough moisture to fall apart. For dessert, I had a banana. I had the option of apple crumble with custard, but I am not a great fan of apples. \nNow, what was I telling you about. Oh yes, Christmas Day.\nIt had been quite exciting. I did not receive many presents but the toys I got were to my liking. For some reason unbeknown to me, IT had not wailed at all, not once did that shrill piercing cry emanate from its lungs.\nWe had lots of visitors, most of them ruffled my hair. Some did not. All of them said how beautiful IT was. In the evening when the last of the visitors had departed IT started wailing again.\nI was put to bed by the slut and was sound asleep when I was awoken by IT wailing again!\nI climbed out of my bed and walked sleepily to the crib in which IT lay. The lamppost that was outside my bedroom window cast an eerily glow over ITS face. ITS eyes were closed yet it still wailed.\nI took one of my pillows, the one with a picture of a rocket on it and I placed it over ITS face. \nAt first the wailing was muffled, muted even. Then slowly the wailing stopped. I decided that was what I would do. Every time IT wailed I would put my pillow over ITS face. I climbed back into bed and for the first time since IT came into our lives I slept soundly. \nThe following morning the wailing returned. I was awakened by it. As I stirred, I realized it was a different kind of wailing. The slut was stood at the bottom of my bed looking down into the crib.\nShe was wailing louder than IT had ever wailed. She was screaming at the top of her voice, “my baby my baby.”\nMy father entered the room and stood beside her. He looked into the crib then told me to go downstairs. I did not understand what was happening, but I followed his orders and went down stairs into the coldness of the lounge.\nTwo minutes later my father came downstairs, ignoring me completely he walked straight out of the door. \nMy father returned after a minute or two later and he was accompanied by our neighbours, Mr and Mrs Sampson. Mr Sampson sat beside me while Mrs Sampson and my father went upstairs to where the slut was still wailing. Not long after I saw some blue lights flashing outside the window followed by a rather loud knock at the door. \nMr Sampson opened the door and four people entered the house. Two policemen and two ambulance men. I knew who the were because I recognized them from the television shows that father and the slut watched.\nThey all went upstairs to where the slut was still wailing. They came down shortly afterwards. The ambulance men took IT away while the police sat on the sofa and started talking to my parents. \nI was taken next door by Mr Sampson and was given some Weetabix with sterilized milk. I had never tasted sterilized milk before and found it quite pleasant.\nI stayed with Mr Sampson for quite a long time until my father came to take me home.\nWhen we entered our house all the same visitors from the previous day where there. Unlike the day before though, not one of them was smiling or laughing. The slut was sat in the corner wailing. I could not decide what was worse. The slut wailing or IT wailing. I was tempted to go and get a pillow to put over her face. She held out her arms and said, “come here John.” I walked uneasily to her and sat on her knee while she kept repeating the word why, over and over. The ambulance men never brought IT back and things were never the same after that day.\nI SUPPOSE YOU COULD SAY THAT WAS VICTIM NUMBER ONE!\n",
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"content": "I am sat in my room. The room that has been my home for the previous five years. After a long hard think about the situation I find myself in. I have decided that I no longer want to reside in this world. Before I do the deed though I want to share with you my secrets. You have no doubt heard my name. It was splattered all over the tabloid papers for almost two months during my court appearances. I have been dubbed many things, from Evil bastard to son of Satan, and many names in between. <br />I wish to set the record straight. Numerous allegations have been made about me in the years I have been held captive in this hospital. Some of them, no most of them are lies. Outrageous falsehoods made up by the gutter press just so that you, the readers will buy their papers and line the pockets of the editors.<br />I am a guilty man. That I cannot deny. I have committed acts that would repulse any sane person. I, however, am not sane. This is not my opinion, it is the verdict of many doctors who have lots of letters before and after their names.<br />When I was convicted of killing 27 people, on the first day of June in 2008, many people, by that I mean you called for the reinstatement of the death penalty. Soon you will have your wish. I am not long in this world.<br />I will start at the very beginning. I shall tell you every detail of my life. Then you, the reader can decide if I am mad, bad or just a product of my enviroment.<br />I was born on the 25th July in the year of our lord 1976. I was born ten weeks premature. The doctors told my parents to pray for me. I was only given a ten percent chance of survival.<br />How ironic is it that a baby that was practically written off would go on to kill more than 40 people before he reached the age of 35.<br />It is true. I have killed in total 43 people. The police only charged me with 27 because that is all they could link me to.<br />My earliest memory is from when I was three years old.<br />It was Christmas Day. I was until two weeks previous an only child. Adored by my father, Spoilt by my slut of a mother. (I will explain why she is a slut later)<br />On the 8th December my slut of a mother went into hospital. When she returned three days later, she brought with her a screaming bundle of bones that was thrust into my face whilst continuously wailing. This wailing never stopped. Not for a single second. It wailed all day and it wailed all night. Now you would think that a mother of a wailing baby would attend to it. Well, not the slut who was my mother.<br />I had to listen to it constantly. It lay in a crib at the bottom of my bed, and it wailed. <br />My father stopped adoring me and the slut stopped spoiling me.<br />I have to go now. It is time for my dinner. I am allowed out of my room for the next forty minutes. I shall be back at one pm to tell you what happened on Christmas Day.<br />Hello readers. I have returned from dinner. It was quite a nice meal. I had grilled salmon with a cheese sauce, although I have to say the sauce was a little thick, I enjoyed it though. The broccoli that accompanied it was cooked to perfection. Slightly crunchy while still containing enough moisture to fall apart. For dessert, I had a banana. I had the option of apple crumble with custard, but I am not a great fan of apples. <br />Now, what was I telling you about. Oh yes, Christmas Day.<br />It had been quite exciting. I did not receive many presents but the toys I got were to my liking. For some reason unbeknown to me, IT had not wailed at all, not once did that shrill piercing cry emanate from its lungs.<br />We had lots of visitors, most of them ruffled my hair. Some did not. All of them said how beautiful IT was. In the evening when the last of the visitors had departed IT started wailing again.<br />I was put to bed by the slut and was sound asleep when I was awoken by IT wailing again!<br />I climbed out of my bed and walked sleepily to the crib in which IT lay. The lamppost that was outside my bedroom window cast an eerily glow over ITS face. ITS eyes were closed yet it still wailed.<br />I took one of my pillows, the one with a picture of a rocket on it and I placed it over ITS face. <br />At first the wailing was muffled, muted even. Then slowly the wailing stopped. I decided that was what I would do. Every time IT wailed I would put my pillow over ITS face. I climbed back into bed and for the first time since IT came into our lives I slept soundly. <br />The following morning the wailing returned. I was awakened by it. As I stirred, I realized it was a different kind of wailing. The slut was stood at the bottom of my bed looking down into the crib.<br />She was wailing louder than IT had ever wailed. She was screaming at the top of her voice, “my baby my baby.”<br />My father entered the room and stood beside her. He looked into the crib then told me to go downstairs. I did not understand what was happening, but I followed his orders and went down stairs into the coldness of the lounge.<br />Two minutes later my father came downstairs, ignoring me completely he walked straight out of the door. <br />My father returned after a minute or two later and he was accompanied by our neighbours, Mr and Mrs Sampson. Mr Sampson sat beside me while Mrs Sampson and my father went upstairs to where the slut was still wailing. Not long after I saw some blue lights flashing outside the window followed by a rather loud knock at the door. <br />Mr Sampson opened the door and four people entered the house. Two policemen and two ambulance men. I knew who the were because I recognized them from the television shows that father and the slut watched.<br />They all went upstairs to where the slut was still wailing. They came down shortly afterwards. The ambulance men took IT away while the police sat on the sofa and started talking to my parents. <br />I was taken next door by Mr Sampson and was given some Weetabix with sterilized milk. I had never tasted sterilized milk before and found it quite pleasant.<br />I stayed with Mr Sampson for quite a long time until my father came to take me home.<br />When we entered our house all the same visitors from the previous day where there. Unlike the day before though, not one of them was smiling or laughing. The slut was sat in the corner wailing. I could not decide what was worse. The slut wailing or IT wailing. I was tempted to go and get a pillow to put over her face. She held out her arms and said, “come here John.” I walked uneasily to her and sat on her knee while she kept repeating the word why, over and over. The ambulance men never brought IT back and things were never the same after that day.<br />I SUPPOSE YOU COULD SAY THAT WAS VICTIM NUMBER ONE!<br />",
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"content": "I am sat in my room. The room that has been my home for the previous five years. After a long hard think about the situation I find myself in. I have decided that I no longer want to reside in this world. Before I do the deed though I want to share with you my secrets. You have no doubt heard my name. It was splattered all over the tabloid papers for almost two months during my court appearances. I have been dubbed many things, from Evil bastard to son of Satan, and many names in between. \nI wish to set the record straight. Numerous allegations have been made about me in the years I have been held captive in this hospital. Some of them, no most of them are lies. Outrageous falsehoods made up by the gutter press just so that you, the readers will buy their papers and line the pockets of the editors.\nI am a guilty man. That I cannot deny. I have committed acts that would repulse any sane person. I, however, am not sane. This is not my opinion, it is the verdict of many doctors who have lots of letters before and after their names.\nWhen I was convicted of killing 27 people, on the first day of June in 2008, many people, by that I mean you called for the reinstatement of the death penalty. Soon you will have your wish. I am not long in this world.\nI will start at the very beginning. I shall tell you every detail of my life. Then you, the reader can decide if I am mad, bad or just a product of my enviroment.\nI was born on the 25th July in the year of our lord 1976. I was born ten weeks premature. The doctors told my parents to pray for me. I was only given a ten percent chance of survival.\nHow ironic is it that a baby that was practically written off would go on to kill more than 40 people before he reached the age of 35.\nIt is true. I have killed in total 43 people. The police only charged me with 27 because that is all they could link me to.\nMy earliest memory is from when I was three years old.\nIt was Christmas Day. I was until two weeks previous an only child. Adored by my father, Spoilt by my slut of a mother. (I will explain why she is a slut later)\nOn the 8th December my slut of a mother went into hospital. When she returned three days later, she brought with her a screaming bundle of bones that was thrust into my face whilst continuously wailing. This wailing never stopped. Not for a single second. It wailed all day and it wailed all night. Now you would think that a mother of a wailing baby would attend to it. Well, not the slut who was my mother.\nI had to listen to it constantly. It lay in a crib at the bottom of my bed, and it wailed. \nMy father stopped adoring me and the slut stopped spoiling me.\nI have to go now. It is time for my dinner. I am allowed out of my room for the next forty minutes. I shall be back at one pm to tell you what happened on Christmas Day.\nHello readers. I have returned from dinner. It was quite a nice meal. I had grilled salmon with a cheese sauce, although I have to say the sauce was a little thick, I enjoyed it though. The broccoli that accompanied it was cooked to perfection. Slightly crunchy while still containing enough moisture to fall apart. For dessert, I had a banana. I had the option of apple crumble with custard, but I am not a great fan of apples. \nNow, what was I telling you about. Oh yes, Christmas Day.\nIt had been quite exciting. I did not receive many presents but the toys I got were to my liking. For some reason unbeknown to me, IT had not wailed at all, not once did that shrill piercing cry emanate from its lungs.\nWe had lots of visitors, most of them ruffled my hair. Some did not. All of them said how beautiful IT was. In the evening when the last of the visitors had departed IT started wailing again.\nI was put to bed by the slut and was sound asleep when I was awoken by IT wailing again!\nI climbed out of my bed and walked sleepily to the crib in which IT lay. The lamppost that was outside my bedroom window cast an eerily glow over ITS face. ITS eyes were closed yet it still wailed.\nI took one of my pillows, the one with a picture of a rocket on it and I placed it over ITS face. \nAt first the wailing was muffled, muted even. Then slowly the wailing stopped. I decided that was what I would do. Every time IT wailed I would put my pillow over ITS face. I climbed back into bed and for the first time since IT came into our lives I slept soundly. \nThe following morning the wailing returned. I was awakened by it. As I stirred, I realized it was a different kind of wailing. The slut was stood at the bottom of my bed looking down into the crib.\nShe was wailing louder than IT had ever wailed. She was screaming at the top of her voice, “my baby my baby.”\nMy father entered the room and stood beside her. He looked into the crib then told me to go downstairs. I did not understand what was happening, but I followed his orders and went down stairs into the coldness of the lounge.\nTwo minutes later my father came downstairs, ignoring me completely he walked straight out of the door. \nMy father returned after a minute or two later and he was accompanied by our neighbours, Mr and Mrs Sampson. Mr Sampson sat beside me while Mrs Sampson and my father went upstairs to where the slut was still wailing. Not long after I saw some blue lights flashing outside the window followed by a rather loud knock at the door. \nMr Sampson opened the door and four people entered the house. Two policemen and two ambulance men. I knew who the were because I recognized them from the television shows that father and the slut watched.\nThey all went upstairs to where the slut was still wailing. They came down shortly afterwards. The ambulance men took IT away while the police sat on the sofa and started talking to my parents. \nI was taken next door by Mr Sampson and was given some Weetabix with sterilized milk. I had never tasted sterilized milk before and found it quite pleasant.\nI stayed with Mr Sampson for quite a long time until my father came to take me home.\nWhen we entered our house all the same visitors from the previous day where there. Unlike the day before though, not one of them was smiling or laughing. The slut was sat in the corner wailing. I could not decide what was worse. The slut wailing or IT wailing. I was tempted to go and get a pillow to put over her face. She held out her arms and said, “come here John.” I walked uneasily to her and sat on her knee while she kept repeating the word why, over and over. The ambulance men never brought IT back and things were never the same after that day.\nI SUPPOSE YOU COULD SAY THAT WAS VICTIM NUMBER ONE!\n",
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"content": "I highly doubt than anyone in the world has lost a chess game in this way",
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"content": "I highly doubt than anyone in the world has lost a chess game in this way",
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"content": "Thoughts please.<br />Lee Woods is a psychotic sociopath who has bullied his way to the top of his profession. However, now that he was there his outlook on life has changed.<br />Two recent revelations have turned his world upside down.<br />Realising that he is head over heels in love with the beautiful yet enigmatic Melissa had come as a shock. Every professional person he had ever met labelled Lee as emotionally numb. Lee was inclined to agree. <br />The second revelation had hit him like a sledgehammer! Resulting in his head and heart visiting places he never knew existed. He knows he has to give up his hugely profitable Cocaine empire and the fast living lifestyle that goes along with it.<br />Is it too late though? On Lee's rise to the top he had hurt lots of people and gained many enemies. Enemies that hold grudges.<br />In a small town ten miles away two Cannabis farmers are busy setting up for the forthcoming season. Barry and Chris had spent hours online researching the pro's and con's of growing outdoors.<br />Both of them are convinced that they can pull it off and make a fortune. However, no amount of research could ever have prepared the two for the summer that lay ahead.",
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"content": "Thoughts please.\nLee Woods is a psychotic sociopath who has bullied his way to the top of his profession. However, now that he was there his outlook on life has changed.\nTwo recent revelations have turned his world upside down.\nRealising that he is head over heels in love with the beautiful yet enigmatic Melissa had come as a shock. Every professional person he had ever met labelled Lee as emotionally numb. Lee was inclined to agree. \nThe second revelation had hit him like a sledgehammer! Resulting in his head and heart visiting places he never knew existed. He knows he has to give up his hugely profitable Cocaine empire and the fast living lifestyle that goes along with it.\nIs it too late though? On Lee's rise to the top he had hurt lots of people and gained many enemies. Enemies that hold grudges.\nIn a small town ten miles away two Cannabis farmers are busy setting up for the forthcoming season. Barry and Chris had spent hours online researching the pro's and con's of growing outdoors.\nBoth of them are convinced that they can pull it off and make a fortune. However, no amount of research could ever have prepared the two for the summer that lay ahead.",
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"content": "Can I have some thoughts on this book description please.<br /><br />Lee Woods is a psychotic sociopath who has bullied his way to the top of his profession. However, now that he was there his outlook on life has changed.<br />Two recent revelations have turned his world upside down.<br />Realising that he is head over heels in love with the beautiful yet enigmatic Melissa had come as a shock. Every professional person he had ever met labelled Lee as emotionally numb. Lee was inclined to agree. <br />The second revelation had hit him like a sledgehammer! Resulting in his head and heart visiting places he never knew existed. He knows he has to give up his hugely profitable Cocaine empire and the fast living lifestyle that goes along with it.<br />Is it too late though? On Lee's rise to the top he had hurt lots of people and gained many enemies. Enemies that hold grudges.<br />In a small town ten miles away two Cannabis farmers are busy setting up for the forthcoming season. Barry and Chris had spent hours online researching the pro's and con's of growing outdoors.<br />Both of them are convinced that they can pull it off and make a fortune. However, no amount of research could ever have prepared the two for the summer that lay ahead.",
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"published": "2019-06-25T12:33:13+00:00",
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"content": "Can I have some thoughts on this book description please.\n\nLee Woods is a psychotic sociopath who has bullied his way to the top of his profession. However, now that he was there his outlook on life has changed.\nTwo recent revelations have turned his world upside down.\nRealising that he is head over heels in love with the beautiful yet enigmatic Melissa had come as a shock. Every professional person he had ever met labelled Lee as emotionally numb. Lee was inclined to agree. \nThe second revelation had hit him like a sledgehammer! Resulting in his head and heart visiting places he never knew existed. He knows he has to give up his hugely profitable Cocaine empire and the fast living lifestyle that goes along with it.\nIs it too late though? On Lee's rise to the top he had hurt lots of people and gained many enemies. Enemies that hold grudges.\nIn a small town ten miles away two Cannabis farmers are busy setting up for the forthcoming season. Barry and Chris had spent hours online researching the pro's and con's of growing outdoors.\nBoth of them are convinced that they can pull it off and make a fortune. However, no amount of research could ever have prepared the two for the summer that lay ahead.",
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"content": "I have a book on Amazon that I am going to make free at the weekend. If anyone would like to download it hit me up and I will send a link.<br />Lee Woods is a psychotic sociopath who has bullied his way to the top of his profession. However, now that he was there his outlook on life has changed.<br />Two recent revelations have turned his world upside down.<br />Realising that he is head over heels in love with the beautiful yet enigmatic Melissa had come as a shock. Every professional person he had ever met labelled Lee as emotionally numb. Lee was inclined to agree. <br />The second revelation had hit him like a sledgehammer! Resulting in his head and heart visiting places he never knew existed. He knows he has to give up his hugely profitable Cocaine empire and the fast living lifestyle that goes along with it.<br />Is it too late though? On Lee's rise to the top he had hurt lots of people and gained many enemies. Enemies that hold grudges.<br />In a small town ten miles away two Cannabis farmers are busy setting up for the forthcoming season. Barry and Chris had spent hours online researching the pro's and con's of growing outdoors.<br />Both of them are convinced that they can pull it off and make a fortune. However, no amount of research could ever have prepared the two for the summer that lay ahead.",
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"content": "I have a book on Amazon that I am going to make free at the weekend. If anyone would like to download it hit me up and I will send a link.\nLee Woods is a psychotic sociopath who has bullied his way to the top of his profession. However, now that he was there his outlook on life has changed.\nTwo recent revelations have turned his world upside down.\nRealising that he is head over heels in love with the beautiful yet enigmatic Melissa had come as a shock. Every professional person he had ever met labelled Lee as emotionally numb. Lee was inclined to agree. \nThe second revelation had hit him like a sledgehammer! Resulting in his head and heart visiting places he never knew existed. He knows he has to give up his hugely profitable Cocaine empire and the fast living lifestyle that goes along with it.\nIs it too late though? On Lee's rise to the top he had hurt lots of people and gained many enemies. Enemies that hold grudges.\nIn a small town ten miles away two Cannabis farmers are busy setting up for the forthcoming season. Barry and Chris had spent hours online researching the pro's and con's of growing outdoors.\nBoth of them are convinced that they can pull it off and make a fortune. However, no amount of research could ever have prepared the two for the summer that lay ahead.",
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