When an older man in an old folks’ home – a new resident – gets told to hassle me time and time again and he has no idea why. When it gears up in response to something I tweet about it. That guy sure as hell is not using Twitter.
When a woman with Down gets lipstick smeared all over her face and gets sent after me and is told to approach me and she has no idea that it is because I just wrote that I had an allergic response with some swelling in my face.
When it is raining and some young guy dashes out of a pub in front of me, with an umbrella, towards a guy who lives in the same old folks’ home but whose mental capacities are perfectly alright and the young guy makes a despicable show of it, waving at traffic and keeping waving at traffic in spite of the fact that the cars are waiting in front of a red light anyway and I find myself looking back a few times to make sure that the older guy is okay.
These are three examples of abuse.
There are many many more that fit more within the traditional view of abuse.
Examples are going into a woman’s flat and carrying out crap in it, when she is out, for years and years and years by picking the locks and by attacking and killing animals just to spite her and way too many people responding with “this is just the way we do things over here; you smile at us the wrong way, we teach you a lesson and by the way, we don’t like it when a woman is confident and independent”.
Some people in Portsmouth may see me as devoid of humour because I do not consider abuse humorous. I say that that is their problem, not mine.