This morning we received this email from the delightful Mr. Proctor Private investigator of South Auckland, New Zealand:
“You can type, you can leave messages during the late evening,
wow, what a man ( probably not one ) big mouth dick head
would be closer to the mark, just like a bullet on its way to the
target ( you )
Come and see me, love to meet you you useless piece of shit.
or can’t you get into the country. ( or out )
Wow, what a specimen
Not at all a nice chap, however, it does confirm Proctor’s earlier, 1982, plea of insanity (up-date: to think that Phil Kitchin relied on Proctor; or perhaps Alcho-pop-head Greg O’Connor was involved ), it would appear that Lewis took exception to the blog post Lewis Proctor – Bent Cop, Piss Head and Magnum P I and now wants to kill us all. Seems to us that in over two decades he hasn’t changed – still very much the psychopath, just like his mate Malcolm Thomas.
(Click here to check out what Gisborne District Commander Ratahi thought of Malcolm [on tape], Mr Ratahi had to be transferred because of the threatening telephone calls from his subordinates and some adoring banjo playing fans of local police corruption)
Although his thought processes do appear to have atrophied a little, not sure what he means by late evening messages – may just be the flash backs that his mate Malcolm Thomas has from to time as a result of what he and others did to Whiro Ratahi – So if any one out there can shed any light on that particular rambling let Laudafinem know?
We can indeed type, but more importantly we have made the decision to write, not well perhaps but obviously a lot better than Lew and also about something Lew would prefer be kept quite – although having said that he does have a certain charming and engaging writing style – very typical of corrupt and violent cops – which the readers, who haven’t yet experienced this sort of creature, will thoroughly enjoy – We can pat ourselves on the back; we managed to get a response from Proctor; the New Zealand Herald couldn’t.
It would appear that Lew didn’t like the truth, left a bad taste in his mouth, similar to the medicine he’s been dishing out for years – but there wasn’t much truth in his formula – Just ask the Ex-Prime Minister of New Zealand, Ms. Helen Clark, Lew stalked her as well.
Appears to us also that Lewis may have just made a death threat:
“just like a bullet on its way to the target ( you )”
That may make us the new Salman Rushdie; take a Mogadon Lew; have a lie down and if it isn’t any better in the morning take Matt Willcox’s advice (no longer a cop and teaching at Christs College) and see a vet; it may just be a case of pistol whip, a boot in the crotch or even a phone book hiding.
We won’t be taking up the very kind offer to catch up with Lew, not my type – Far from it – which is made perfectly clear in the article.
Getting out of the Country has never been a problem for any of us,we’ve always welcomed it – getting in however has its side affects; such as nausea, We are assuming Lew is referring to New Zealand.
Just between Lew, the Papakura Police bar, the blogs readers and us, we suspect that after nine of an evening Lewis Proctor may have difficulty getting out of a chair.
Keep smiling Lew; oh and keep off the piss, your writing style suffers; you’re all over the show in that email; on the job and all, shame on you Lew – Shame Shame Shame!
We found the bully boy and very very racist Lewis Proctors threats distressing so we thought it wise to let the Australian Federal Police know about them. lol