WRITING MY BIOGRAPHY FOR A BOOK COVER

WRITING MY BIOGRAPHY FOR A BOOK COVER

         
   BIOGRAPHY FOR AUTHOR’S PAGE  for amazon kindle
_______________________________________________________
William G. Milne – Walker Ballantine on Facebook…. J.J. Williejohn on Twitter….the writer of Roving Reporter Rants
on Blogger He’s written 13 books and so far he’s published  four.
“I was born in  born in Northern Ontario and travelled to the north coast of Jamaica at the age of 6.My father was diagnosed with MS, was told he had a year to live, and that, ‘Maybe a warm climate will help.'”

           I lived eight years in Jamaica. I did the schoolwork that was set out for me between 7:00A.M. and 8:00A.M. in the morniong. I spent my days by the sea mostly – exploring sea pools, walking on reefs and deserted beaches. 
          When I first arrived in Jamaica, there were very few
Hotels on the island. One of them was the Tower Isle,
east of Ocho Rios.
He says, “I met my first Rastaman when I was six. I was walking along the deserted beach just before dawn… My dog followed along, chasing sand crabs. Three turkey vultures hopped along behind me on the beach. They weren’t tame, I just fed them a lot.
When Clinton heard me coming, he jumped up and stared  into the dark.  He said, ” Out of nowhere comes this little blonde kid with a dog and three John Crows hopping behind. I didn’t know what I was seeing.”

        “Soon as he saw me, he calls out: ‘Rastaferai! Jah! Protect us!’  Later the two became friends, but
not at first.”I thought he was demon!” Clinton says and laughs.
           “A blonde white child come out of the darkness, man! with three John Crow!”
             Clinton was smoking a spliff. Smoking herb, the
holy plant, sacrament of the Rastaman. Early each morning he smoked the sweet herb before paddling his dugout canoe out across the tides.
              “When I was older I’d have the mushroom or the
marijuana tea.”
               In  Jamaica God still exists. You can feel Jah’s
spirit in the air. Also there are tales of duppies and the
rolling calf and spirits. “A demon child appearing out of the darkness… It could happen. man!”
          Perhaps Clinton was more prone to dreams 
and visions than usual because of the sweet herb.
“Dreams can teach reality.”
“Miss Gwen, Gwendolyn Dickens raised me
when my parents were gone travelling. She taught
me such things as, ‘A man’s strength is in his hair.”
And, “A prophet never put a comb through his hair,
man!”
          “These are truths I believe still. People ask
about the demons and angels and gods who appear
in my books. This is the world I grew up in. This is the
world I choose to live in still, a world where anything
is possible.”
         ” Calypso bands and dancers would come down the road. I remember one bongo drummer who was so
playful with his drum. He seemed to know something my
parents did not, so I wanted to be a musician.”
            “Jamaica, then private school, then the lakes
and bush of the Canadian north, these are my background.”
 I was raised near Saint Ann’s Bay, not three miles from where Bob Marley was growing up and learning his skills.
In Canada I completed grade 13 at Upper Canada College. Then I did four year degree in English Language and

Literature at Victoria College, University of Toronto. 
               “I was lucky enough to study with Northrop Frye for four years and with Father Belyea at St Michael’s College. These two men were major influences in my life.”
                “I was a folk singer at first. Then I started playing electric guitar at the Zanzibar Tavern , a strip house on Yonge Street, Toronto. This was one of my life’s ambitions – to play guitar in that atmosphere.
” That’s where I learned how to play the blues. 

Playing with Bobby Dean, Clayton Alexander Johnston,
and Doug Johnston at the Zanzibar. I lived upstairs
above the striptease palace.”
                 I started a band called “Johnny Rock and the Angels”  both before and after getting a Law Degree at Queens University.  
        “Slave Wages” was my first book of poetry, published by Temple’s Gate Books. I sold  over 1000 copies of that book from the stage. But now it’s out of print. I plan to re-publish
that book of narrative poems as part of a larger collection, which I won’t name until its copyright is protected.
          I was Roving Reporter for a newspaper called , “The Talk of the Town” in North Bay and Ottawa. I published over 60 short stories with that papers. 
          The “Roving Reporter” was a character in these stories, and artist, Ernie Taylor, did caricatures of me as this
Roving Reporter  character.
          “I portrayed the Roving Reporter character as
being a heavy drinker when he was  out on assignment,
getting to the bottom of some story.” 
           The newspaper received a lot of protesting letters:  “This isn’t funny! This man should be institutionalized!”
            ” Some people didn’t understand that I exaggerate for
comic effect! I’m not a reporter. I’m a storyteller and
humourist. Apparently I’ve got a strange sense of humour,
because I  people were offended from time to time.”
             ” I  preferred not to water down the
content of my narrative.”
              So if you’re reading William Milne, W.G. Milne or my pen name, Walker Ballantine, remember I’m not trying to  offend you, and hoping that you enjoy yourself and find some
cause for laughter.

              I have three books now published at Amazon.com Kindle store. 

               ‘SANTA’S URBAN SURVIVAL GUIDE” is a humourous look at arrest, incarceration and how to
get released. “Santa” became my nickname, during
my  stays in jail, because I’m big with long white
hair and a beard.”
              A friend, who should know,was
reading this over my shoulder. She says, “No, no,
it’s not so much your looks. It’s because you have a
generous spirit and a kind heart – that’s why we
call you Santa.” 
              I like to believe her.
                   
 SANTA’S GUIDE TO SURVIVING YOUR PERSONAL
FETISH.  This content of this book is extreme, but it’s
also extremely funny. Some of the stories from the
FEMALE ORGASM CLINIC are contained within.
There are  actual cases of  orgasm repression
 in women who were cured. 
             The women in these cases are real.
And some of the cures are real.

THE SECOND COMING OF CHRIST: ANCIENT GOSPEL
FOUND ANEW. This book relates some of the content of
the gospels discovered at Nag Hammadi, 1945. Even the
“source” gospel from which the Biblical gospels
derived. The discovery of these gospels 2000 years
after the death of the saviour, and the consciousness
that shall arise from digesting them, this is how
Christ returns a second time.

            I’m preparing more books to add to these ones.
“Tales of The Roving Reporter,” will be one such book.
I won’t mention the names of the other books until
I have some copyright protection for them.                                                               

________________________________________________________________________________________

   The Article Below is on   FETISH!   
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
DON’T READ THIS ARTICLE IF YOU’RE UNDER
           EIGHTEEN, IT MAY WARP YOUR SEXUAL
            ORIENTATION FOR LIFE


Of course, if you’re 18, you’re almost certain
to have a definite bent already.
             The association of a physical object with
arousal is extremely common. It might be a glove,
a high-heel shoe, a crop, a cane, a paddle, a belt…
or maybe even a rubber pillow you used to hump
 on the floor when you were  young.
              Whatever it is, I don’t want to
influence your choice of fetish.  To be honest,
you don’t choose your fetish, your fetish
chooses you. 

I use the ‘closet’ image when I discuss
S&M. Gay people use the image, too. They
talk of coming out of the closet. Sadomasochists,
are different – masochists would prefer to stay
‘in the closet’, because it’s shameful.
Sadomasochists prefer to increase the shame,
because feeling ashamed of yourself for doing
this dirty little act – it’s arousing in itself…
but mostly because you know you’re going
to get punished for the “sick,disgusting, perverted
dirty little nasty” acts.   These words are
arousing to the masochist. Humiliation
fuels his/her  passion.
         For example to be told his penis
is too small, worthless, useless and
infantile, this really gets the male sub hot!
Even if he’s well-endowed, he’ll
probably adore small penis humiliation (SPH).
This directly ties in to the Cuckoldry
Fetish, which is really booming these days.
But this is a subject for another day.
         
       Don’t read this if you’re emotional or feeling
sensitive today.

          For a while recently I was avoiding 
writing about major FETISH  issues… Then I 
thought, hell,I’ve already written deeply 
penetrating articles about fetish…. 
         This blog is partly about
fetish, sexual repression…orgasm repression
and ways to overcome such a problem.
(see the Female Orgasm Clinic, which
is a blog I also write, on Tumblr). 
         In the Female Orgasm CIinic 
site I tell stories about real cases of 
real women with deep, long-lasting 
orgasm repression issues. One or two 
of these women didn’t even know what 
an orgasm was…had never experienced  
release in their entire lives!
          They didn’t know what they
were missing. They just knew
something was very wrong.

         
          In almost all cases we find a cure.
But extreme  measures sometimes must be
 taken.
          When I speak of extreme measures
I’m talking about giving the woman a good
caning, just to warm things up. 
         Then I find a sizable vibrator helps, with radio controlled various speeds. It’s often a good idea to leave
the vibrator inside the woman for up to an hour and
leave her alone to think about things, anticipate
what may be coming next.
        Of course she is naked and strapped down
to a table on her stomach, her hips
appropriately raised.
       Meanwhile you can change speeds on
the vibrator from a remote location.
        It’s important to use the kind of
vibrator that plugs into the wall. We are
not amateurs here, but experienced
professionals working at a difficult
task.

          My assistant, who is a licensed
psychologist will observe her from behind
a one-way glass, laying a bit of a whipping
across the patient’s buttocks, every ten
minutes or so. The female patient, naturally,
is lying face down on a padded table.
          It’s important to use a light touch,
and then throw a few vicious lashes on.
           The reason the patient is left
alone for various lengths of time,
this way she can anticipate what is coming
next with trepidation  and intensifying
arousal.
            The idea is to break all resistance
down. At the same time we are breaking
down all parental prohibitions, limitations
and restrictions – the parental and religious
script that plays like a negative tape loop
in her head.This is what’s making her sick.
           By the time I am finished with her,
she won’t be listening to those voices
anymore.She will stop fighting the pleasure
that is overwhelming her and start enjoying herself.         

      She is restrained with straps
and she will need to be when I begin
electrical therapy. The first shock
 comes as quite a surprise and that’s
the intent.Patients have been know to buck
right off the table, when the first jolt hits
them.
           And there are other
surprises in store  for her,
as well. Surprise is an
important part of the therapy.
The psyche must be shaken loose
from its usual moorings.
           Rarely, but in difficult 
cases, I have had resort
to power tools.
        
          The whippings will
continue all through the night.
Not hard canings. Just hard
enough to keep the gal’s mind
on other things, so she won’t
notice when new therapies
are about to be applied.
         The use of many kinds
of distraction is a useful tool
in our arsenal.
            
          Remember, don’t try
these methods at home. Each
case is very different and my
assistants are extremely experienced
in each of the therapies.
            For example, no one goes
near the electrodes until they’ve
worked at the clinic for three
months.
           Horrible things can happen
with an inexperienced worker.
For example,  you  can’t douse the 
patient’s body with water
 if the electrodes are still
attached to her sensitive parts.
          Considerable attention to detail
is necessary.

           My assistant is adept is very adept
at caning, and she enjoys it, which is important.

 
        There is libido repression in men, also.
         Of course, men can cum easily.
But there are shallow orgasms and deep
ones, and there is a huge difference
between the two types of orgasm in men.
A shallow orgasm is not satisfying.
         When a man is having a deep orgasm,
he’s not going to be quiet about it. He’ll
howl, shout, bleat… and make other
sounds you normally only hear
in a farmyard.
         
         Also, if he starts to pant
heavily…you know he’s having a good
time. Men ought to be caned, too,
to take them down to that deeper
level of arousal.
       But that’s not my job. I’ll
leave that to you ladies among us!
          
      All the weird and wonderful   secret perverted
acts sniffing  nylons and panties and shoes,
beating off with a girdle wrapped around
your head… and a bra tied around your balls…
 and then the busty Scandinavian maid catches you, puts
you over her nylon knee…and whips
your little bum with a bamboo
cane…
          This is the maid who always 
stood by and smiled and snickered when mother 
spanked you bareassed with a wooden spoon…
And when mommy goes away, she got the job
of spanking you herself.
          No one is likely to forget such
events in their childhood, for the rest of
their days… in fact, these events will
turn into an overpowering fetish in later
years. And without the spark of this
fetish, the man will not be able to achieve
erection.
          Not without grovelling on the floor
and crawling across the rug, his ass in the
air, to suck the toes of his mistress.
          This man might be a high-powered
minister in the legislature, but still
he will need to perform this humiliating act
 repeatedly.

          You see what I mean? All kinds of
obsessions might rise up with no warning
later in life… Who knew that sniffing your mothers
shoes would turn into a full-bore foot fetish?
A passion for feet that every once in a while grabs you
and forces you to dive under dinner tables
and lick the instep of some unsuspecting
paying customer…

       Now all the above fetishes do not apply
to me – just most of them.
       I have been surprised by “a warm rush of blood
to the balls” (my father’s definition of love)
 when I see a  woman’s well tuned
ankle in a well-made boot, especially if she’s
bobbing the high heeled shoe in a teasing, nodding
motion – rather as fisherman does when he has a
lure in the water…
        The bright fisherman’s hook  fascinates the beady-eyed
bottom-feeding fish;the high-heeled taunting woman’s
shoe  fascinates the more wide-eyed human male
who also wants to be a bottom feeder.
       
         All right…  I like kneeling between a good pair
of nylon legs…and I like dominant woman.
 I also like extremely submissive women who kneel
before me begging to be punished…
      I had a chance to spank a considerable number of 
women’s bottoms when working briefly as the partner 
of a highly skilled dominatrix…I wasn’t getting
paid. I did it because I liked it. The dominatrix
needed a male to play the part of a stern professor,
policeman, Nazi, daddy…or I could just be what I am –
a true sadist.
        The  fact is I enjoy seeing a woman’s
buttocks clench and squirm while I whip
a cane across her bum cheeks…and when I whip
her ass harder…. I truly love to see her butt
squirm faster – as she tries to avoid the
harder quicker strikes.
        And I like to be spanked and caned myself
 So you see, I know about fetishes – a variety
of them.  I also have compulsions I don’t want to admit to
at the moment.

               One thing I want to say is I am certain
that the study of fetishes – this study is at the
very core of the human psyche: it’s at the 
hub/centre/matrix   of compulsion and motivation. 
            If the conditions of one’s fetish are not fulfilled, 
the psyche turns against itself.And there will be 
rebellion in the city of your mind.
           Deep impulses  repressed become rage; and rage
is the ultimate perversion of the mind. Rage turned
inward, of course, becomes depression.
           How much better it would be to  just
have your ass whipped by a strong woman in leather…
 and get wildly aroused…over a considerable period of
time… and be ordered to blow your load
on her knee, her shoe, or in your own shoes!
         No one is hurt…your passion
is spent… and your homicidal urges recede.

            It’s fun, too! But it’s also a serious
matter. Ignoring your own fetish will ruin your sex drive. 
If you never do the disgusting, perverted, dirty things 
 you need to do. If you don’t share such shameful
things with your wife  or partner
your sex life will disappear.
          It takes courage to share what you’re most
ashamed of with the person who owns half your
earthly goods. She might walk out.
          But believe me, if she doesn’t let
you do all the dirty shameful things
you want to do to her…chances  are she’s
doing the same dirty deeds with someone else.

           You’ve got to break it to her or him slowly.
I find it’s  easiest to break the news to your
spouse, when you’re having sex, fondling
her perhaps.
         
             There are some items you don’t
want to surprise your partner with, though.
 I talked one husband into confessing to his wife
his deepest need. He wanted to have sex
with her, while he was wearing a  rubber pig’s 
mask and making grunting noises.
          It took her a little while to get used 
to that. 
          After a month passed she confided
to me that they’d had a lot more sex than
usual that month, which was great. But she found
it a bit disgusting.
         I talked to the husband and told
him the problem. I asked him whether
a clown’s mask would work as well. He
decided it would.
         So he started having sex with
his wife as he was wearing a full  clown’s
mask, red rubber ball nose and all.
 The nose made a little honking
sound if she squeezed it, which she 
did more and more as time passed.
After a while she started squeezing
the nose each time she wanted
him to thrust into her.
        I’m told she kept increasing
the speed of the honks, until
he was thrusting as quick as he
could. This was a sadistic measure
of control which she quite enjoyed.
          Some weeks later I asked her
if the sex was still just as good as it was
with the pig’s mask on. 
          She  informed me  that, yes,
the sex is still just as good.
” But I’ll never take him as seriously again
for the rest of my life!”

          Maybe that’s a good thing.

       
(C)2016 by W.W. Milñe

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