Hey Kids, so you wanna know more about me and my life so far?

Here goes . . . .

I was born in Birmingham on June 30th 1974. The year of the Tiger!

My mom was gonna call me Naomi or Jude if I was a boy but saw me and decided that my name would be Kelli.

For the first seven years of my life, we lived on the 7th floor of a tower block called Near Oak House in Bartley Green (Birmingham). The elevators always stank of piss but the views were amazing.

I have good memories from that time , I used to love coming back from school to watch Monkey, everybody loved that show and it was really magical to me, all the Kung Fu and witches and Monkey of course. I quote, " How dare you insult the Monkey KIng ! ! ! "

Mom would play her records in the morning, Joan Baez was our favourite and my dad loved The KInks, David Bowie, Frank Zappa and Hendrix.

I loved to sing and dance and dress up and make up stories and I had a great time. I day dreamed all the time and didn't dig school at all, they didn't have time for dreamers. Once I got locked out in the playground because I was off in my own world and they had forgotten I was there! Maybe I disappeared for a while.

We moved to a house nearby when I was about eight years old. I missed the views that we had enjoyed in the tower block but I was happy to get my own room.

I was about ten years old when I decided that school was an useless joke.

We used to have assembly every morning and a vicar would usually tell some story with a moral message and we would sing a few hymns, I loved singing every day, although I got kind of bored of the same old songs day after day.

One day, the new head master, Mr. Filer, came into assembly, a nasty piece of work with obvious issues. He held a bible in his hand and started speaking very softly to the children, all sat on the ground listening. He began by talking about the bible and how sacred it was, how a man called Jesus gave his life for us and all of a sudden, without skipping a beat started a tyrade of abuse at us kids! screaming at the top of his lungs at how we had neglected the bibles and how we would all be punished with no play time for our terrible mistreatment of the school bibles.

He said the pages were falling out and the covers were slipping off and by the way he shouted, I could feel just how psychotic this creep was. I mean those bibles were old man and I'd never seen anybody purposely deface those books.

I felt confusion, sadness and anger rise up in my ten year old heart which was racing like a motorbike. The injustice of this attack was obvious to me and I decided there and then that this guy was a jerk and so were all the other teachers who cowered in the corners of the room, while this guy fulfilled his dictatorship assault on the bewildered and by now tearful audience of children. After that day, I wouldn't sing in assembly, I used to open my mouth but mouth rubbish and swear words silently until one day I had an uncontrollable fit of the giggles through the vicar's blurb and was sent out.

Night times were ace in Bartley Green. There was this social club where all the locals went, it's been made into a benefits office now but back when I was about 11 years old, it was the epicentre of our entertainment. I mean where else could you go and see the full uncensored version of The Evil Dead at 11 years old? I loved it, they would have horror films all night, Wednesdays and Thursdays . Me and my mom watched them all, Zombie Flesh Eaters, Demons, Night of The Living dead, Carrie, Halloween. I must watched every cool horror film on that big screen in the disco room .

The excitement and pleasure that those films gave me man. The cool American kids and their parties and the evil waiting to consume them. The new house, all shiny and new, wouldn't you just love to live in that house and isn't it all peachy but oh . . . what was that sound ? Oh God ! ! ! . . . It's a demon under the fucking stairs man ! ! ! Cool.

There were discos at the weekend and all the kids and parents would dance and have a wicked time. Sometimes it would kick off and the blokes in the bar would start fighting and it would turn into some kind of brawl that you might see in a western comedy, load of fat alcohol mad geezers swinging at the air and sometimes landing a punch here and there. Those were the good old days !