Two: "Mrs Gilbey's Boys and Me"

Sat 03/02, 21:05

In 'Mrs. Brown's boys and me' you will have read lots of what could be construed as that C word again; and I won't insult your intelligence by pointing out what. For me personally: the way I was led back to Ms B's house, and from when,(25/05/2017 / 07/07/2017) her passing and then Wil's mum passing too, especially given the link back to my mum in all this. To see OCS the day after Mrs. B's rescheduled funeral. So profound. All this in a year of the Westminster attack, the Manchester concert hall, London in June. Crazy year. ANOTHER ONE. All of which will be presented in this blog.


As for concluding London in 2005 a couple of weeks before it happened, who I was speaking to DAILY on the telephone and what I was saying as 7/7 approached......(the groovy media people)... and what did you see in those emails from 2005, and last year 2017? LONDON IS NEXT, and it was in 2005; and East End London plated food knives attack in June last year. ANYONE who cited the C word yet again here I'd say ok. Wanna see more? Stop reading now if you don't. Welcome to my world if you do.  


All coincidence and Steve is fucking nuts? Anyone who wants to think that of me, that's fine by me. It saves wasting my time talking to them.

Anyway.


I grew up on Poplar Farm council housing estate, and so all of my childhood I grew up with the Gilbey's, seven brothers. Rich Rob Wayne were closest to me age wise;  Alan John Malc and Ray were older. The streets of Poplar in Bedworth near Nico school filled with kids it was brilliant, and even the older lads and men were cool.


By age 21 I was then spending a lot of time with Alan: his sense of humour my god. Cheeks hurting, bent over laughing funny was Alan. Five years older than me, so when I was 10 he was 15; he was just big Al. A bear with ginger hair. I was a little kid. By the time I'm 21 he's 26, we'd meet in the pub and man. We had a brilliant time so many times and loads of fun. He hooked up with Carol, Carol and my missus got along great. They came to my wedding in '93, we went to theirs '90 whatever it was. Great times, great memories.


Tragically, in 2004, the summertime, Alan died, aged 40. On holiday with his wife, sat poolside, didn't feel well hit the floor: dead. It was so sad. A year later, as you saw, I concluded London is next. What does this have to do with Alan?


Now. 9/11 taught me and showed all about me. Gifted beyond comprehension. I am saying no more about 9/11 but I actively invite anyone and everyone to speak to the people who were around me at the time (still are) and let them tell you. But of course it's far easier NOT TO and dismiss me as nuts. And truly, that is fine by me also. You will be speaking with some highly intelligent people, if you do ever speak with them.


I knew this in 2001. Of course people will say he must be fucking nuts. But I didn't give a fuck, I had a point to prove. So I went after the top people I could go after, driven by the events of 9/11. And proved the point. Gifted beyond comprehension. Pursue the highly educated ones with fancy jobs and titles. Posh ones in media pursued by the council estate kid. And gob smack them, repeatedly, just as those who knew me (know me) were gobsmacked on 9/11. Ignore the doubters and shit shouters. Go after mainstream media parapsychology and eventually, psychology. The top ones. I chose well. I even dragged a 'famous' Professor of Psychology in, from March 2016.


These days when I meet new people (which I do, a lot) or reacquaint with old, for instance, Mrs Brown's boys, I have to be mindful if the person I tell about my 'psychic life' can handle it. Indeed do they need to know? I knew Skid would handle it. I knew he can handle me, even when at my 'craziest'. I was right.


He (Skid) saw how I was as Westminster last year approached, and then the Manchester concert hall. He pushed me to land back down to earth ''let's see Steve, not just the psychic one''. I went to Skid's house a week before the London June 'hit'. Skid gives me that look: he did when we were kids. Chill the fuck out Steve. It worked then it works now. When London in June then came one month after the Manchester concert hall ''I don't know what to say Steve'' said Skid. Nothing to say me ol' bean. Duncan looked me in the eye a week or so ago ''Are you listening to me?'' and feckin ell. There's the Dunc of old, pouring out of his eyes. He can be fuckin scary. Alan was like that. I'm lucky.    


The email 'Having slept on it Steveo' in Mrs Brown's boys ''LONDON is next, they're planning it right now'' (it was and they were) I'll remind you again here:


''Hi steve, ive been thinking as to how to tell you this latest stuff plus i didnt want you to be thinking about it on yer hols, i may of course be wrong about what i feel but i knda doubt it.  I did think youd have worked it out for yourself by now, but if not see wot u think to this.Last mays stuff van bomb came at windsor, obvious british queen link, then the liverpool fans in garden described as "like the jubilee" east end tv stars, big ben stops at 22.20 the very night im taken into the cosmos...................LONDON is next, it is being planned right now. Even the bombs of 050505 were british consolate..........this country, london next for sure.''


Stretching back as early as May 2005 ''even the bombs of 05/05/05'' the penny finally dropped I was  being....told....London, one June afternoon sitting at my patio table under one of my trees, listening to The Stone Roses and writing in the journal I kept that year.



Did I just happen to be right? Did I just happen to put lots of different pointers together, all pointing me to London? Random coincidences where I, and only I, could see a pattern? The London fraternity, from the then Prime Minister Tony Blair to the Met police, didn't have a CLUE a London attack was imminent. Watch the news from the time, don't take my word for that. The year before, 2004, Madrid had a 7/7 type attack with an Islamic group claiming responsibility. Prior that of course 9/11. Interestingly, days between those two attacks? 911. September 11 2001, March 11 2004. Days between, 911.



Could one therefore conclude, September 11 2001, then Madrid two years and a bit later, London would be likely. And Paris, Brussels, indeed every capital city in Europe. Any city in Europe come to that. Did I just drop lucky in 2005 with London?



Sent emails as May 5th 2005 approached show how I warned a terror hit would be likely, be careful in London and indeed all UK cities, even Manchester. I emailed Steve Mera telling him just on that day, May 5th, careful int citeh, his being Manchester. London folk told the same with London. I was specific about public transport. 05/05/05 felt a big deal, which emails from the time show.



So this: ''Last mays stuff van bomb came at windsor, obvious british queen link'', the first line of my conclusion of London 2005. What am I talking about? In April of 2005, the following email:



Wednesday April 6th 2005 17:17 'More Premonition'



Hi steve, thx for chat just now, as i said i will write this exactly as recorded in my diary, and we'll wait and see eh?
april 5th 2005,12.52pm.....Dreamt last night was walking toward the pub steph and me used to drink in all the time! at its time the best booza by far in this town, run by fantastic people. Anyway,was near the pub there was a van blocking my path, like a removals van or or a big LDV type, anyway crossed the road was then at my Dads flat, just up the road from byron avenue.Outside, my mum was there,we embraced it was great, it was actually my mum! i held her very tight, out in the front garden.Next to us, ie in next doors front garden, was margaret holden, who used to run the pub i spoke of.next thing,the gilbey brothers walked by,all of them dressed very smartly in suits-the only one who wasnt there was big al, who very sadly passed away last year.Thinking about this, the entries made previously in here of squashed house, sailors, elevating into air, york avenue.... this is where the gilbey family live.The scary thing is , the pub mentioned here we all used to drink in together........margaret mentioned here also ran the pub......there was a van outside this pub, blocking my path .Its name, by the way is ...The British Queen, lots and lots of pointers to the British Queen.Im wondering if yesterdays entry of expensive cars pulling up, like a "function" or a "meeting" and all the other subtle, and indeed not so subtle placements are building to the murder of our Queen.I see today mr blair has been to see hrh at the palace, an election has been announced on 05/05/05.Anybody who knows me or reads "call it wot u want" will know 04/04/04 was an interesting time for me,just as 08 april 03 and 08 april 04.Now i see 08 april 05 is the popes funeral and charles and camillas planned wedding day,although, now obviously postponed.I firmly believe the "brains" behind al qeada use numbers to execute their hits, i feel an election planned on 05/05/05 just may give the terrorist planners the green light to do it again.Another common denominator in this latest stuff it seems is gardens; the truck/home squashed at york avenue, plus elevated into the air then meeting sailors (outside gilbeys house, next door to truck/ house squashed stuff) these houses both have a front garden, as did the house i lived at where the roofs had caved in, obviously same house where the high powered, expensive cars turned up.This latest entry, i am outside my dads flat, cuddling my mum- in the front garden.Margaret holden, land lady of british queen, was in the garden next door, indeed she was tending to it.Some kind of function where the queen might be? people turning up in expensive cars? a garden area? something will happen pointing to this, im sure of it.

Does this read as nonsense? An inane dream not involving my dead pal, but suited six brothers making an appearance; and let's face it, people we love die and it's likely, inevitable some might say, one would dream about them. Take here for instance. Alan wasn't in this, his brothers were, my mum was. She even cuddled me. A purely psychological generic dream, traumatic events (dead mum dead mate) manifesting in a man who just can't get over it? or something more? A gifted man following the links? or a nutter selecting self created self perceived 'links' through fucking delusion? A cherry picking con man perhaps?

Some years ago, BBC broadcaster Alan Dedicoat said ''the struggle for you Steve: (with the public) it's too scary''. He once urged me, three or four years ago, NOT to send a most recent email to Virgin books (who had a manuscript of mine) because it will freak the shit out of them. The news editor, the Eton schooled film maker and the PR guru Lorraine Worsley MBE  DL AGREED. I have this is in my email inbox of course. As I've maintained all along. If I'm fucking nuts so are they. If I'm deluded or a con man or whatever. I've fooled them. Think about that.

The email above then Wednesday April 6th 2005 17:17 'More Premonition'. A clue in the title. I knew it was premonition. Precognition. Seeing the future. Call it what the eff ya lark. By now, 2005, I was getting very good at it. Having accepted it isn't going to stop: precognitive dreams and outrageous 'coincidence' and if I fight it. It'll drive me crazy. Acceptance came in the form of two planes in NYC in 2001. Four years on:

Hi steve, thx for chat just now, as i said i will write this exactly as recorded in my diary, and we'll wait and see eh?
april 5th 2005,12.52pm.....Dreamt last night was walking toward the pub steph and me used to drink in all the time! at its time the best booza by far in this town, run by fantastic people.Anyway,was near the pub there was a van blocking my path, like a removals van or or a big LDV type, anyway crossed the road was then at my Dads flat, just up the road from byron avenue.Outside, my mum was there,we embraced it was great, it was actually my mum! i held her very tight, out in the front garden.Next to us, ie in next doors front garden, was margaret holden, who used to run the pub i spoke of.next thing,the gilbey brothers walked by,all of them dressed very smartly in suits-the only one who wasnt there was big al, who very sadly passed away last year.

So in this dream then I'm walking toward the British Queen pub that when I drank there, was run by Paul and Margaret. Anyone who knows that pub knows the door to get in is at the front with a path in front of the door and a road behind both. The Queens. What a pub that was. (now boarded up of course)
Anyway.

So the van is parked right outside the door on the path, blocking my entrance into the British Queen pub. I cross the road to walk toward my dad's flat: (along Queen Street over the blue railway bridge go left walk the curvature of the path turn left Lady Warwick Avenue me dad's ground floor flat, five minutes from the Queen's if ya walk fast; which he moved into up the road, literally, from my mum's house on Byron Avenue, three years after she died.) Once there, in the sunshine, my mum stood in my dad's front garden. Very much alive she put her arms around me. It was nice. I could even smell her. We stopped cuddling and there to my left in the front garden next door is Margaret, land lady of the British Queen, pruning flowers, next door being a few feet away. Ray Malc John Wayne Robert and Richard walked by, suited and booted. Indeed they walked in a line, past me as I stood with my mum and Margaret. Dead mum dead mate's brothers; a van on the path of The British Queen pub blocking the door / entrance, and the landlady. Those streets again where I grew up: Byron Avenue, Lady Warwick Avenue, York Avenue where the Gilbey family lived. My mum is there. There's repetition. That means. It's a big deal. The mail continues:

''Thinking about this, the entries made previously in here of squashed house, sailors, elevating into air, york avenue.... this is where the gilbey family live.The scary thing is , the pub mentioned here we all used to drink in together........margaret mentioned here also ran the pub......there was a van outside this pub, blocking my path .Its name, by the way is ...The British Queen, lots and lots of pointers to the British Queen.''

This part ''Thinking about this, the entries made previously in here of squashed house, sailors, elevating into air, york avenue.... this is where the gilbey family live.''
is referencing dreams previous to this, in that area again near my mum's house, then events took place that once again pointed at what I'd written. So even here repetition: same location in this dream by a few hundred yards. The mail continues:

''The scary thing is , the pub mentioned here we all used to drink in together........margaret mentioned here also ran the pub......there was a van outside this pub, blocking my path .Its name, by the way is ...The British Queen, lots and lots of pointers to the British Queen. Im wondering if yesterdays entry of expensive cars pulling up, like a "function" or a "meeting" and all the other subtle, and indeed not so subtle placements are building to the murder of our Queen.''

It's a feasible interpretation even if the mere act of it, ie murdering the QUEEN, HRH The British Queen Elizabeth who lives in a palace and wears a crarn, is so unlikely it's ludicrous. Especially if it involved a feckin van. Indeed, I telephoned David Pollock the very day I had this 'dream': his posh Eton voice in rather exclusive Tadworth, Surrey: ''The Queen has the tightest security in the world Steve, don't warry''. Duz she nar?

The mail continues:
''I see today mr blair has been to see hrh at the palace, an election has been announced on 05/05/05.Anybody who knows me or reads "call it wot u want" will know 04/04/04 was an interesting time for me,just as 08 april 03 and 08 april 04.Now i see 08 april 05 is the popes funeral and charles and camillas planned wedding day,although, now obviously postponed.I firmly believe the "brains" behind al qeada use numbers to execute their hits, i feel an election planned on 05/05/05 just may give the terrorist planners the green light to do it again.''

What the fuck am i on abart? one might ask. Well, ''Anybody who knows me or reads "call it wot u want" will know 04/04/04 was an interesting time for me,just as 08 april 03 and 08 april 04.Now i see 08 april 05 is the popes funeral and charles and camillas planned wedding day,although, now obviously postponed.''

They were interesting times, but not relevant why here.
"I firmly believe the "brains" behind al qeada use numbers to execute their hits, i feel an election planned on 05/05/05 just may give the terrorist planners the green light to do it again.'' Well, it's April, so we'll have to wait and see. I'm clearly drawn through number repetition, a date for may 5th for shit to kick off.  The mail continues:

''Another common denominator in this latest stuff it seems is gardens; the truck/home squashed at york avenue, plus elevated into the air then meeting sailors (outside gilbeys house, next door to truck/ house squashed stuff) these houses both have a front garden, as did the house i lived at where the roofs had caved in, obviously same house where the high powered, expensive cars turned up.This latest entry, i am outside my dads flat, cuddling my mum- in the front garden.Margaret holden, land lady of british queen, was in the garden next door, indeed she was tending to it.Some kind of function where the queen might be? people turning up in expensive cars? a garden area? something will happen pointing to this, im sure of it.''

This part: ''obviously same house where the high powered, expensive cars turned up'' was a dream just prior this one, 'More premonition' whereby, at my mum's house again, looking out of the window top of the range Jaguar cars pulled up in the street, vehicles dignitaries would use.

''Some kind of function where the queen might be? people turning up in expensive cars? a garden area? something will happen pointing to this, I'm sure of it.''
I said to the posh media ones on the telephone from my home the afternoon I sent this email, April 2005. ''garden area,..... van,...... Queen''. Steven Mera said interesting don't forget to mail it, David said calm down the Queen has mega mega security round the clock. Of course she does. ''She has the tightest security in the world Steve, don't warry''. May 5th was ages away: exactly one month from when the dream came, April 5th 2005, email sent the following day. But still. Steve's head is spinning. In 2005, my kids were little all day and all of the night, my life  therefore hectic but good: but even in my day weird shit happening, in my sleep fecking hell. Dealing with it. Imagine. David from Amatis Films and Steve Mera; we spoke almost daily on the phone as I pinged these emails across. Lisa Armstrong too, and Hitesh.

I'd realised I had no choice when 9/11 happened. So by the time of this email, Wednesday April 6th 2005 17:17 'More Premonition' Id spent the afternoon following this premonition discussing its possible meaning with a Manchester Parapsychologist man and a posh film maker man. The posh man was letting his man, BBC Alan broadcaster man, know all abart it. In fact it was David, the summertime of 2004, who invited to me to his huge posh Surrey house to meet and speak to the famous BBC bloke, so by now, Alan had known me / of me for nearly a year, and met in person of course. Lottery man Alan Dedicoat is a cool guy. As for David Pollock. What a man he is. Posh as it gets yet cool guy.

Anyway.
The so profound dream and email I sent here you'll see went at 1717, copied word for word from a journal entry made the day before at 12:52pm; a few minutes before 1pm, lunchtime lark. I knew this dream was a big deal. Again.

Now.
Having woken from this dream  I headed darn me stairs and the tv was on. Live on tv Tony Blair announcing an election May 5th, 05/05/05 and he'd just been to see the Queen. Naturally, I thought: oh fuck. Here we go... So I rang Steve Mera he urged me ''get it to me, get it typed' which I sat darn and did. I then rang Mr P and ranted to him and sat on it. The next day:

Major headline, major security alert carried out by a Sun newspaper journalist(s). They drove a van to Windsor posing as delivery men, and were fucking waved through unchecked. Dodgy paper work off ya goo. The Queen was in residence, and they parked the unchecked waved through van, right outside her door. Had the van have been checked, ie open the fucking back doors at least, they will have been greeted by one item: a boxed fake bomb with the word 'bomb' written on it. Done by the Scum 'newspaper'. So she don't have the tightest security in the world then, the British Queen. And.  Windsor, famed throughout the world for its gardens, this incident happens the day after I send this email. With the Queen there.

Van British Queen next day. At the door. At the place where the Queen was the other side of the door. Had the bomb been real, as said by a Sky reporter that night, the Queen, sat tother side ut door, would have been blown to smithereens. The door being at the place world famed for its gardens, Windsor, in London. So we watch for May 5th 2005, clearly.

The headlines of the Queen van thing at the time were interesting.

Remember here... NEXT DAY:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/4418917.stm
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------BBC NEWS | UK | Fake bomb 'reaches castle area'
news.bbc.co.uk

A fake bomb is said to have been driven past the chapel at Windsor Castle being used for the royal wedding.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A tabloid journalist drives a van into Windsor, famed throughout the world for its gardens of course, and the Queen is in residence. In the back of the van, a fake bomb.

http://www.dawn.com/news/388333/newspaper/column


''Inside the van was a brown box cheekily marked “bomb”, yet reporter Alex Peake said none of the police officers guarding the castle, just west of London — where Queen Elizabeth II was in residence at the time — were suspicious.''

“It was all absurdly easy... Had it (the fake bomb) been real, it could have devastated the castle and caused carnage — even killing the queen,” Peake reported.

So. ''I see today mr blair has been to see hrh at the palace, an election has been announced on 05/05/05.''

''I firmly believe the "brains" behind al qeada use numbers to execute their hits, i feel an election planned on 05/05/05 just may give the terrorist planners the green light to do it again.''

The report above makes reference to ''even killing the Queen''

May 5th 2005 came.

Do you know what happened, if anything? Is it, as BBC lottery man said, too scary. Well. I'll keep writing. Whoever reads it, I don't control. And neither would I want to.

May 5th 2005, 05/05/05 was high alert day to my 'crew'. And to anyone they told. The day went by, and fuck all happened. I was thinking hmmm...and there it was. The parapsychologist by his own admission spat his tea across the room, I'd told him, in conversation on the telephone May 4th 2005. Recall the email and date;  look for Islamic terrorism tomorrow: and it came. In New York. The declaration, the War on the West from Islamic Jihadi's was declared on this day. Don't take my word for this. But how? What happened 05/05/05? Well, it was 20 days before the Miracle of Istanbul; it was twenty days before Si from OCS birthday, it was 20 days before Ade Brarn's birthday. (I didn't know it was either of their respective birthdays at the time) It was the day some 'dummy bombs' exploded in flower beds outside the British Consulate in New York. It went lark this:

So. ''I see today mr blair has been to see hrh at the palace, an election has been announced on 05/05/05.''

''I firmly believe the "brains" behind al qeada use numbers to execute their hits, i feel an election planned on 05/05/05 just may give the terrorist planners the green light to do it again.''

May 5th 2005:  

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/05/05/nyregion/small-explosives-go-off-outside-british-consulate-in-manhattan-2005050590509841250.html?_r=0

Small Explosives Go Off Outside British Consulate in ...


Two small explosions went off in a large cement planter outside a building housing the British Consulate on Third Avenue in Midtown Manhattan early today ...

''Two small explosions went off in a large cement planter outside a building housing the British Consulate on Third Avenue in Midtown Manhattan early today, causing some property damage but no injuries.''

''The blasts, which occurred as voters went to the polls in Britain in a general election, shattered the glass in the front door of the building.''

''Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg said at the same news conference that "we do not at this point have any idea who did it, or a motive"

Bombs in flower beds outside the British consulate in New York, the authorities clueless as to who did it, or why.

THE NEXT DAY. May 6th 2005:

Islamic group claims responsibility for NY blasts outside British consulate; authorities are dismissive

MAY 6, 2005 7:47 AM BY ROBERT SPENCER

“A Statement from Jund al-Sham Claiming Responsibility for the Explosions in New York,” from the SITE Institute, :Today, May 5, 2005, Jund al-Sham (Soldiers of Levant) claimed responsibility for the small explosions outside of the British consulate in New York City, claiming that the attack was “the beginning of war inside and outside of America.” No one was hurt in the blast.

Twenty days on from 05/05/05, Liverpool FC won the European cup, and from thereafter I was on top of the world. My life became even more profound however, crashing me back down to earth. At this point, we revert back to this:


''Hi steve, ive been thinking as to how to tell you this latest stuff plus i didnt want you to be thinking about it on yer hols, i may of course be wrong about what i feel but i knda doubt it.  I did think youd have worked it out for yourself by now, but if not see wot u think to this.Last mays stuff van bomb came at windsor, obvious british queen link, then the liverpool fans in garden described as "like the jubilee" east end tv stars, big ben stops at 22.20 the very night im taken into the cosmos...................LONDON is next, it is being planned right now. Even the bombs of 050505 were british consolate..........this country, london next for sure.''


So we'd seen the security breach with the white van men at the door of HRH The British Queen at Windsor, famed for its gardens. Had the bomb in the van been real of course, dead British Queen. We saw some explosions in flower beds outside The British Consulate in Manhattan, New York, where it began on 9/11, with an Islamic group declaring war on the West, on 050505. Garden / van British Queen/ May 5th/ flower beds this time.



You've (now) seen the email(s). What do you conclude? As for sussing London is next in 2005.

''Last mays stuff van bomb came at windsor, obvious british queen link, then the liverpool fans in garden described as "like the jubilee" east end tv stars, big ben stops at 22.20 the very night im taken into the cosmos...................LONDON is next, it is being planned right now. Even the bombs of 050505 were british consolate..........this country, london next for sure.''



Liverpool fans in garden described as''like the jubilee''. Yon abart Steven.



I had a very powerful dream, simply in the streets of Liverpool, and came across a house where in the garden, Liverpool supporters, some with shirts off, singing 'You'll Never Walk Alone': I joined in. The rational mind of course would say well. You Steve, life long Red as are two of your kids, Liverpool are in the European Cup final (miracle in itself in many ways) you clearly want them to win, hence the dream. I'd say:



And so. ''liverpool fans in garden described as "like the jubilee".



I went to a football tournament post this Liverpool dream, pre London 7/7, my daughter Summer playing for Bedworth United Boys. Liverpool were European Champions by now, I had a fresh tattoo proclaiming it. At the tournament, Carmen, the manager's wife, said that her and Scott (the manager) had been to Liverpool for the parade of the European Cup, and described people in their gardens, streets ''like the jubilee was'' . For me, stood pitch side when she said this....the Liverpool fans dream and what she's just said. Jubilee. London again.



'' east end tv stars''

This 'dream' man, crazy. It's logged via email of course, and written about in a hand written A4 size journal / diary, as is all of the year of 2005. It involved my brother picking me up from my mum's house - the precognition capital of the world- in his orange TR7. (he had one in the 80's) We drove off and soon enough we were hurtling through the air, he'd lost control. We crashed, both ok, car a mangled wreck. Opposite where we'd crashed, was Steve McFadden, 'Phil Mitchell' of Eastenders fame, slumped, with a half bitten off tongue. London again.



''big ben stops at 22.20 the very night im taken into the cosmos...................''



To fully grasp the significance of that number, 222, one would need to read the ebook I produced November 2015, available at Amazon, 'Gifted and Burdened' By Steven A Johnson. With the media, well ban of my work, and major publishers doing the same, I did all the work myself, thrown together in time to have it published and available before the next terror hit I expected, (November 9 2015 it came November 13th 2015.) To have the foreword written by Lorraine Worsley. I'm very proud of that.





Basically. When the dreams of my dead parents, home and streets began, in the late 90's, I'd awaken from each one at 222am. It became too often to be put down to coincidence. By 2001, as September 11 approached my God. As I say, anyone is welcome to buy it (it's a penny under a fiver) or indeed don't. Number two is the number of choice. Do / do not. Anyway, back to this:



''big ben stops at 22.20 the very night im taken into the cosmos...................''



Pre 7/7 2005.
That summertime, Hitesh, London media production guy, came up to meet me and my family. He's a lovely lad is Tesh. My kids loved him when they were little (Robbie was 5 or just 6) and love him still to this day. He's in his 30's now, blimey. He has a great sense of humour does my little Hindu pal, he's as  straight as they come; painfully honest at times; a top London lad, very intelligent too. We've had some great times together Tesh and me. The most recent time I saw him, I met up with him for lunch when I went to London last summertime.



So in 2005 Tesh lands at my house from his home in London: he was looking for someone for Danny Dyer's football hooligan hard men show malarkey, I gave him Dean Ashfield. Dean Ashfield got fifteen minutes of fame talking about Leeds United and violence. (''Football's hardmen'' it was called or summat) Tesh had got someone for his boss's production company; Danny Dier had someone to interview, everyone a winner. Whilst here we went to the Leamington Peace festival Tesh and me, and another guy came too;  a friend of mine who then lived in Nuneaton, Alec, but was / is a Londoner with a London accent. (lark Tesh's accent) So we went to the Leamington Peace Festival; and to a pub or two in Lem before that. It was a boiling hot day, we sat on the grass, hippies everywhere, hot sunshine and a band on who sounded a lot like The Doors. It was a good day that Peace Festival in 2005. Me, Hitesh from London and Alec, (who's known as 'London Ed'.)



At home in bed. My head was glowing from the sunshine of Leamington. On the wall at the foot of my bed, as it was then in the front bedroom, the reflective light from the church opposite my house shone. Falling asleep, I looked into the light on the wall. Bloody hell. I went through the sodding cosmos. Galaxies stars it was....I can't describe it. Anyway I slammed awake BOOM.



The following day, I telephoned a guy called Paul. Paul (Galley) owns a home on Park Rd. He's a retired school teacher, off the scale clever, who cares for his wife who has MS. I met Paul yr 2000, through his community work (he does for free!) through my then paid job with the homeless. I confided in him as 9/11 approached. That day blew his vegan super intelligent head. In 2005 I rang him about my cosmos the night before thing. He assumed I'd rung him regarding Big Ben, the big London clock.

''Yon abart Paul?''



The news of the day that day was that the hands of Big Ben in London had suddenly, inexplicably. Stopped. They stopped for ninety minutes, (the duration of a football game if you will) weeks after Liverpool had won the European Cup. Paul said: ''At 10:20pm. 2220 Steve''.

I said. Oh fuck. How much more London does this need to get? Then I put it together. There on my patio, in the sunshine, listening to The Roses.



''Last mays stuff van bomb came at windsor, obvious british queen link, then the liverpool fans in garden described as "like the jubilee" east end tv stars, big ben stops at 22.20 the very night im taken into the cosmos...................LONDON is next, it is being planned right now. Even the bombs of 050505 were british consolate..........this country, london next for sure.''



When the penny dropped I was clearly being shouted at LONDON IS NEXT I did exactly as the email title suggests. I slept on it. I contemplated. Will it be June next year? ie 06 / 06 / 06? Once I'd sent 'Having slept on it' proclaiming London next. My. Life. Went. Crazy. Daily phones calls to all my London friends and Mr Mera in Manchester. It was horrible. It lasted a couple of weeks, every day. It's imminent, it was all over me. And then.



Day seven month seven of the year that adds up to seven. 07/07/2005.



Celebrations on a grand scale in London the day / night before. London, where the British Queen is, and Big Ben and East End, the capital city, Olympic city winners. Tube packed as usual 830am the following morning. Trains in the East End, in the tube railway network, blown up. Liverpool St, blown up. Fifty two dead. A bus had it's roof blown off too.  




At 8:49 am, three bombs were detonated on board London Underground trains within 50 seconds of each other:

The first bomb exploded on a six-car London Underground C69 and C77 Stock Circle line sub-surface train, number 204, travelling eastbound between Liverpool Street and Aldgate. The train had left King's Cross St Pancras about eight minutes earlier. At the time of the explosion, the train's third car was approximately 100 yards (90 m) along the tunnel from Liverpool Street. The parallel track of the Hammersmith & City linebetween Liverpool Street and Aldgate East was also damaged in the blast.


The second bomb exploded in the second car of another six-car London Underground C69 and C77 Stock Circle line sub-surface train, number 216, which had just left platform 4 at Edgware Road and was travelling westbound towards Paddington. The train had left King's Cross St Pancras about eight minutes previously. There were several other trains nearby at the time of the explosion; an eastbound Circle line train (arriving at platform 3 at Edgware Road from Paddington) was passing next to the bombed train and was damaged,[2]as well as a wall that later collapsed. Two other trains were at Edgware Road: an unidentified train on platform 2 and a southbound Hammersmith & City line service that had just arrived at platform 1.

A third bomb was detonated on a 6-car London Underground 1973 Stock Piccadilly line deep-level Underground train, number 311, travelling southbound from King's Cross St Pancras to Russell Square. The device exploded approximately one minute after the service departed King's Cross, by which time it had travelled about 500 yards (450 m). The explosion occurred at the rear of the first car of the train—number 166—causing severe damage to the rear of that car as well as the front of the second one.[3] The surrounding tunnel also sustained damage.



And so what you have read in Mrs Brown's boys and me, and Mrs Gilbey's boys and me: lots and lots of the long C word, written by a guy who's a deluded four letter C word? What would you conclude from it? Too scary or not scary at all? Gifted cursed or crazy?



The cursed suggestion, assuming there's such a thing as a 'curse'. I don't do any of the things I'm led to. I don't fly planes into buildings in New York or detonate myself on trains in London. I don't swing machete's at diners in London, or walk through a train station into a concert hall and blow it up. The curse is of the ones who do, not of the seer who sees it before it gets here. Am I crazy?



Well I baffle academics and have done for fifteen years. Seventeen years if you count Paul Galley in that. More than once more than one of these people have used the genius word. The parapsychologist 'he's a precognitist, it's precognition'. It's blown his mind. An American radio host in 2015 used the prophet word. Indeed just last year, on another US radio show, October 2017 prior George Michael's death then Westminster in London and the concert hall; what came out of my mouth...what people want to call me is none of my business. Anyone can listen to that, it's easily accessible. I've done loads of radio interviews, a lecture I did has had 10,000 views. A tiny number, 10,000 people compared with how many hits bears on rollerskates or dogs dressed as oomuns get and go viral. But if ten thousand people tell one person each, that's 20,000 people. It needs to be 20 million, at least. 222 million. As many people as possible in my opinion need to know about this.



Of course, there are people who spend time in the pub snorting rat poison from a piss stained bog seat, wannabe gangsters who bully muppets, will and do say Steve's fucking mental. My life's journey has been hectic. Yeah, I can be crazy but interesting people are. See me at a concert for instance. I do not invite the attention: Duncan and Ade were with me of course and their mate Neil in Minehead for a weekend of live bands last November. They saw for themselves.



I have no idea what draws people to me, and even weirder why they, strangers in their droves, keep hugging me. Eventually in Minehead Dunc told people to stop touching me. But more importantly. I have no idea why ME, this 'psychic' thing. The strangers who hug me don't know this about me of course. I just stand there, or am walking by. That  speaks volumes to me. But ultimately.

I don't have a choice.



The fact is. 9/11 happened. September 11 2001. The next attack then, the first in Europe post 911, Madrid March 11 2004, days between 911. The British consulate bombs in flower beds came with the declaration of the war inside and outside of America, May 5th 2005. 05/05/05. Day five month five year five of the millennium. Two months and two days later, London 7/7. 07 / 07/ 2005. Day seven month seven of the year that adds up to seven, 2005. I had no choice but to try to do something about it.



Everything written here is fact. Provable fact. As is.

The next attack was Lee Rigby after 7/7, eight years later in 2013. Would you be surprised to know that Alan Gilbey featured again that year, 2013. And I'd sussed London again, eight years after 7/7, which came May 22nd 2013, by January 2013. I dreamed of Queens Guard soldier too, so profound. It's all email logged of course. (in 2006, the year after 7/7, there was a massive thwarted plot, I'll touch on that another time)



On May 22nd of 2013, Lee Rigby Queen's guard soldier was callously murdered, in London. Lorraine Worsley MBE DL was on board with me by now, reading emails as I send them. The woman who was at the BBC for thirty years, worked with Prince Charles, hosted events for him, her MBE from the Queen etc, helped me over that time of Royal Queens Guard soldier Lee Rigby's murder. Lorraine had read the emails as that event approached.



Couldn't make it up.



And so last year 2017 what I have been warning the BBC man and the posh media ones about all these fucking years well and truly arrived back in England. Via Paris in January 2015, Paris November 13, Brussels March 22nd 2016. On the first anniversary of the Brussels attack, March 22nd 2017, Westminster London: Alan G around again. May 22nd 2017, Manchester concert hall. Back to London June 2017,  Alan G was around again this time, then in September explosive device detonated on a London train. And now.



As I write this, it's 325 am January 30th 2017. So it's January 30th, so I've been married for twenty five years as of now. Well done me. I think I'll sleep now.