I’M Johnny T Noctor, The Hobo Boxer from Little Ripper country, a land of crocodiles and kangaroo’s, sharks and snakes, but, unfortunately the worst sharks that’ll bite you are Aussie boxing promoters! My new documentary, articles in the blog section of my hoboboxer .com website, and my five card Royal Flush of Hobo chronicles, have all the verifiable leads and proof of this truth that the Villains in my story are sinners for greed and power. I believe one of the worlds richest billionaires is keeping Johnny T Noctor, my injustice from being known, including them getting away with illegal activity against America’s Roy Jones Jr. If you’ve ever watched Donald Sutherland in The Hunger Games, you’ll see that this Hollywood movie is based on real life stories like my four books that I’ve published. Donald’s real-life counterpart owns major international newspapers and national televised fight nights, yet, didn’t give me a fair dinkum go in the boxing ring. I gave a good knuckle sandwich for hundreds of rounds of sparring state and national, amateur and professional boxers and I started doing six rounders live on national television when I was a welterweight, but, I was never paid. When I tried to escape Australia’s version of Don King controlling me, I went down to Tasmania to be with my wife, and get a few boxing matches down there, but, then this bloody puppet master-boxing promoter, yanked at some strings on convicted felon, Grant-Tassie-Brown, and bob’s your uncle, Johnny Noctor came out of a coma with my skull fractured in three places. Hobo Boxer-book one.
I was only enjoying exchanging leather with all the young blokes in the great sport of boxing and wasn’t prepared for all these low lives carrying on like the mob. Then, the Donald Sutherland-Hunger Games-type who owns the newspapers and politicians, he worked with the Don King of Australia, to manipulate Johnny T Noctor’s ABI for televised KO wins on other bloke’s records for a few years. All the verifiable evidence and leads is in my documentary and website. And, knowing my wife was having babies, they all still exiled me into homelessness away from my family. I escaped the mongrels and got a KO win on my own record which is my second book, The President. And then I started invading America for the next six years. I published my fourth book, Boxing Exploitation, and have since spent months running up Colorado’s Pikes Peak in the deep snow with the mountain Lions, then sparring the best boxers at Gleason’s gym in Brooklyn New York, and Elite Heat New jersey, yet, the Aussie blow flies block me wherever I go with their billions of dollars. Johnny Hobo had to sleep on the streets in Pasadena, the New York subway, and in the New Jersey and Staten Island woods with the deer because they keep me and my books from being known with their blood money. You can watch, Boxer fights with Fractured Skull, the three-minute preview of my full documentary on, Boxer Hobo, YouTube channel, and some of my other movies of where I had to sleep because of these drongo’s denying me justice or any pay for thirteen years. I’m as mad as a cut snake, yet, as flat out as a Lizard drinking, which you can see in my fights on YouTube, especially Boxer Hobo’s middleweight and welterweight bouts. Just need a manager like the wonderful Donald Newsom, to help me find a publisher for my fifth card in a Royal Flush, America, with this interview being the last great chapter.
Planet Earths fighter writer, Johnny T Noctor, is the hobo boxer, who’s spent the last thirteen years travelling homeless around Australia and America, a wondering nomad. He’s relished in the exchanging of leather in the soft canvass ring rather than getting an eye for an eye on the street, after the boxing promoters fractured his skull in three places because they never knew better than their lust for money and power. Trying to find a manager while destitute without any pay from prejudices, Johnny put a smile on all the faces of hundreds of young pugilists from Tasmania to Melbourne and Queensland, Sydney to Broadway boxing gym in California, with his half-shaved Jekyll and Hyde, southpaw to orthodox appearance which is on the cover of his first book, Hobo Boxer. Still, forever wanting to be with his lovely little children who are still in primary school, Johnny gave up the addiction of alcohol, and has never had one beverage in the last six years since back and forth from the united states on the pension rate. This sobriety leads him to summit Pikes Peak mountain in the deep snow with the mountain Lions and give extreme rounds to good young champion boxers at Gleason’s gym in Brooklyn New York, and Elite Heat New Jersey, while sleeping on the New York subway sober, and also the Staten Island woods with the beautiful deer. Even though only a few hundred folks in the world know about Hobo Boxer’s four published books from lack of marketing while Johnny spent many years sleeping in Cathedral crevices, the end is now near with his faith in a last chapter of my fifth and last book, America!
