a tale, of woe
I bought a new car two weeks ago, its a honda civic. The last bloke who owned it basically put half of a halfords store's worth of "accessories" on it, including a big, BIG exhaust.


I'd had it an hour before I got pulled over by the police for driving whilst using a mobile, AND having a light out. they would have done me for speeding, but didnt have any firm evidence. Luckily the policewoman had had the same job as me through university, she saw my situation and let me off without any points(just a fine).


And the next day what happens? My fucking employment agency ring me up and tell me i'n sacked! Oh and on further bad luck, since then ive crashed it...TWICE (once into another person)....
BALLS!
(themoon, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 14:29, Reply)

sperm, poo & piss
Firstly some background; my Dad is a retired GP and Police Surgeon (certifying dead tramps, tending to people in the cells, giving evidence in court etc) and where we lived in Notts, Dad's surgery was just up the street.

So, one day many years ago when I was a teenager enjoying my school holidays i was abruptly awoken from my matutinal slumbers by the front door bell ringing. "ah..." I thought, "no-one is in, must answer door...."

Stumble down stairs, open door, blink resentfully at policewoman-shaped silhouette standing in the sunlight....holding a plastic bag.

"Hi there, is your Dad in? I've been up to the surgery and no-one is there?"

"Sorry Miss - he's out at the moment, he'll be back later"

"oh fine, could I leave these with you then? Oh by the way, I should keep them refridgerated"

YAWN, "OK, will do - bye now", stuff bag in fridge and leave nestling gently amongst our lovely middleclass food stuffs (palma ham, mayonnaise, left-over venison, swans' tongues etc) and go back to bed....sleep, ah sweet slumber....

Awoken a few hours later by my mother demanding to know "What the hell is this bag full of piss, shit and sperm doing in my fridge!?"

err....well

Punchline: my Dad frequently acts as an expert witness for rape victims etc and quite routinely takes samples from the victims and/or criminals - I explained what happened that morning, oh how we laughed.

ps - to clarify: each bit was individually contained, it wasn't a doughy mixture of the three wrapped up in a bag.
(callipygous everytime I kill a hitchhiker, God masturbates, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 14:29, Reply)

young and stoned (again)
there could be loads of these....

Sitting at our local common one evening, the ground was white and fresh with snow, a group of young teenagers just finished a bong session and where feeling very happy with themselves.

For no reason at all, well probably paranoid dilusion, one of us said "wouldn't it be funny if a cop car came belting it over the green to bust us" - to much stoney laughter.

10 minutes later - a cop car comes careering over the snowy grass straight for us. We where VERY confused about this but found it mildly amusing. It was funny to watch the cop trying to control his car on the snow, literally sliding all over the place towards us.

Anyhoo, the cops searched us, found no gear - took the bong and left a group of very confused stoned people wondering how the hell that happened !

That was too wierd....
(JBoom, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 14:28, Reply)

Oh my god what will I tell my parents
Two of my housemates when I lived in Cape Town, decided to spend the night in one night smoking themselves into a complete and utter stupor.

The sitting room window opened onto an alleyway and during a moment of silence they suddenly heard the very telltale sound of a police radio. One of them decides the only sensible thing to do as they are obviously about to be raided is go throw the entire rather sizeable stash onto the railway line which runs past the back garden. On opening the back door he spots 3 coppers running across the back garden - handguns drawn. He then shits himself, closes back door and starts freaking out big stylee - hides the stash in a tupperware container in another tupperware container sticks it in another housemates room and climbs under his bed. My other housemate at this stage was in tears in the corridor going "oh my god what will I tell my parents'.

I then arrive home - see shit loads of police all over the place - and after the polite "what on earth is going on" conversation with the police turns out they had decided to do security crack down in the neighbourhood and thought our neighbours were being burgled. I then went inside to find the hysterical housemates and had the pleasure of breaking the news to them that they were not being raided and it had nothing to do with them in the first place.

They still love me for saving them.
(Cameltoe, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 14:25, Reply)

young, and stoned....
a group of us about 15-16 years old where hanging about in the local multi-storey carpark smoking weed and trying to avoid the rain. We had been there most of the evening and where just finishing the last of the weed in a joint.

All of a sudden a copper bursts through the door from the stairwell - thinking he's about to bust us big time. The toker calmly flicked the spliff butt over the wall, leaving us with no evidence whatsoever.

This copper is pissed off, really mad and starts shouting at us and asking what we where doing. Being very stoned and knowing that he couldn't do anything we just all giggled and laughed at the copper who became increasingly angry with us.

All the way through he would shout "STOP SMIRKING AT ME BOYS", and other stupid stuff like "I CAN TAKE YOU TO THE STATION FOR SMIRKING". Obviously this isn't a good thing to be shouting to teenage stoners, as we ended up just pissing ourselves in hysterics at the stupid copper.

One pocket search each later, lots of tears on our cheeks and an extremely irrate policeman he left us still crying in laughter - and most definatley smirking !
(JBoom, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 14:22, Reply)

Ooo-ooo-ooo police helicopters!
For some reason I'd almost forgotten about this, possibly due to the fact we were severly pissed at the time, and its best to put worrying things from your mind.

In the summer of 2001 we all went off down to the woods (Hillingdon borough) it was an enjoyable day we'd taken a huge basket of food with us, beer, vodka, radio, and spent the whole day just chilling out on one of the commons just soaking up the rays, when just as we are packing up to leave a group of lads leg it across the common each carring what looked like high powered rifles. And then they were gone. One of us made the glib comment of "where are the police when you want them". Well as we went in to the trees a police helecopter appeared overhead and quite obviously had mistaken a group of lads carring a large hamper and a radio, for an armed gang through their IR camera. So we legged it, split up and hid behind trees, then legged it some more then hid under log bridges, then legged it some more... all the time the rotor blades where buzzing about like a big angry bee. The best bit was when we came across a huge shipping container that had been dropped in the woods and we spent 20 mins running round the opposite side to the helecopter so all they could have seen was an arm or leg disapearing around the corner. then we got bored and out of puff, so we decided to finish off the picnic in the middle of the path. The chopper finally twigged that we were pulling their tonka and droned off to find new prey. However that wasnt the end of it, for some reason coppers dont like to made fools of. We were almost at the bus stop to go home and it was the last oppertunity for a waz before the long bus ride home, so everyone gave all the gear to one of our mate who went to wait for the bus while we helped nature. Unfortunately for him they were lying in wait and collared him as soom as they saw the ridiculously big hamper. We however were not fools and are rarely loyal to one another, and bravely legged it back in to the woods. He was held for several hours, lectured on the evils of wasting police time, threatened to be fined for the the aircraft fuel they wasted following a group of picnickers (some stupid amount of thousand pounds) and finally released when they couldnt get him on anything, other than being a pissed idiot. This wasn't helped by another acomplice phoning the police station pretending to be from the sun news paper and asking if they'd caught the 'xxxxx woods 7'. however that must have told the police that there were 7 of ús, and he took severe heat for next to a year to fess up. Luckly he's more loyal than we were to him. I still owe him a beer for that. Although, thats what probably started the whole thing.

Wow thats an essay.
(Nicky Nacky Noo... Scratch and Sniff Please, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 14:21, Reply)

About 6 years ago........
.......myself and a mate (nice fella but a bit of a nutcase) were leaving a nightclub in town when we happened to find ourselves smack bang in the middle of a mass brawl. It looked like the entire street was caught up in swinging punches and stamping heads. The police were using the great crowd control technique of swinging truncheons and putting the odd boot into anyone that looked like part of the brawl.
So we're standing there looking around at the mayhem when the police mistake us for brawlers and pin me against the wall and start swinging at my mate with truncheons. Not standing for this he takes a truncheon off one cop, who shits it in the confusion and backs down. Then he pushes the police off me and we do a runner out of town with a nice souvenir 1998 police truncheon, and a few nasty welts and bruises which we could probably have sued the bastards for. :-)
( Evil Bastardo, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 14:14, Reply)

A bit of the opposite way around, this story
I was working in an off-license about five years ago and a couple of drunks come into my shop. One of them had taken a swipe at my head with a bottle of wine, I'd taken the bottle of him and told him to piss off, which he promptly did.

The police turn up, have a look around the area to see if they can spot the guys then come in to take my statement. About half an hour later we're sitting out the back of the shop going through it all and the bell dings for the front door of the shop. My boss wanders out to serve the customer and it's the mate of the guy who tried to attack me. My boss steps out the back and with a grin on his face says to the policeman "The friend of the guy who did the attack is in the shop asking if he left a bag behind. The attacker is standing out the front waiting for him."

Pause.

"What?" says the very baffled policeman.

"They're back and they are asking if they left a bag behind!" The grin on my bosses face is now rather huge. The policeman has a great expression on his face, quietly says "right" and tries to keep a straight face as he puts on his hat to go and arrest the very, very stupid people.

It gets better though. On attempting to arrest the guy who attacked me, the mate then decides it would be a good idea to jump on the back of the policeman. Now, what this was supposed to achieve is pretty ambiguous anyway, but he really should have factored in that the police were setting up a speed trap across the road at the time so in about five seconds he was manually lifted and thrown to the floor by seven officers.

A few minutes later the policeman walks into the shop to tell us everything is fine and they've been arrested. He was utterly amazed at just how dumb the two really were.

I did well out of it too, I got £50 compensation for the guy who attacked me, my boss shut the shop early and gave me a £15 bottle of wine. We then went off and got royally drunk on everything in my house.

That the night was one of the most enjoyable I've had in this city says a lot about Winchester.
( Matazone has new icons, but is keeping this one, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 14:02, Reply)

Back in my serious druggy days
a load of friends and myself headed off to a full-moon party on a hill in the middle of nowhere to dispense some brain-candy to the young psychonauts who were flailing away to the sound of repetitive beats. We were walking through the woods on our way up when loads of Gardai emerged through the trees wielding flashlights (as the fuckers always seem to do anytime somebody under the age of 50 tries to have some fun). All of us immediately split up and ran like hell, but they managed to catch one of our party - a young lady and good friend of ours who happened to have a few hundred single serving delights in her pocket. We didn't know she'd been nabbed until a while later when she hadn't turned up and someone said they saw her being led away. Of course we were all a bit freaked so after trying and failing to get more news, we headed home... and guess who was there waiting for us? No - not the drug squad but our esteemed friend!! Apparently, she'd been caught and the little white fun sweets had been found - she was spread-eagled against the side of a police car after being searched by a young Bean Garda (lady pig to you Brits) who went off to excitedly report her findings to a senior officer. As soon as she left, my nameless friend just sort of 'slipped away' into the trees and made her way home. She was still a few grand in debt to some serious gentlemen after losing a very substantial amount of produce, but way better than an imminent jail sentence, don't you think?
(PsiPhi, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 13:52, Reply)

Motorbiking
As with most other tales regaled here, I was sloshed. Quite so.

I am busy driving my bike home. It's a 900cc, so not an insignificant machine. In my, erm, condition, I fail to notice the roadblock in front of me. How you don't notice yellow cones and flashing blue lights right accross the road, I don't know. But I didn't.

So I drove into the roadblock. Cops run up to me, one has his truncheon out and hits at the back of my helmet. Lucky me the blow merely glances off.

I decide, bugger this for a lark, and leave a black line on the road so fast do I piss off.

There's a traffic-light at the 100 metres down the road. The light is red. So, I reason, I'll stop like a law-abiding citizen - no sense in breaking the law even if running from the police, is there.

The coppers get in their cars, stop behind me, and as they were all out of the cars the lights went green. Which had me screaming off, and them standing around outside.

I took a few dodgy corners and slid my bike down someone's lawn behind a bush. Had a nic nap. Drove home.
(testingtestingtesting, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 13:50, Reply)

...
I was about 14 at the time, and i was camping with friends in a neighbours garden (pretty extreme stuff), and next to this garden was a large hotel/pub. So we were loitering round the pub and we noticed a very big window, which looked in on the ladies toilets, so naturally being adolescents we where hanging around there for about 2 hrs.

Then a car came round the corner and we suspected it was the landlord, so we scarpered. Me and the others legged it, the car followed, and just as it came round the corner i jumped into a bush. Upon landing i saw it was a cop car, the type that has police dogs in, (quite good drivers).

Anyway they killed all my friends and they had no idea i was hiding in the bush at the time, watching the slaughter, but they eventually noticed me and took my eyes.. the barstards.
(Me luv UK., Thu 8 Jan 2004, 13:39, Reply)

more helicopter larks
a few friends were on the local "green" one saturday afternoon in the summer a few years back, not being the best area and being next to the ring road there were regularly police cars driving through, sometimes accompanied by the force helicopter. we'd had a few bottles of white lightning between us (we were 15 ok?) and i suggested that it'd be funny to send a message to the helicopter... so we all lay out on the grass in the shape of the letters F U C K Y O U ! (we even used a small child and a football as the exclamation mark). about 20 seconds later one of the cars started coming our way so we got up and scarpered...
(Joey[kins], Thu 8 Jan 2004, 13:38, Reply)

luck
This isn't too amusing, but is the biggest stroke of luck of my young life; nicked for 4 gs of coke and a bag of weed on my 25th Bday, banged up overnight, then bailed to return in 6 weeks. Turned up, told to come back in 6 weeks. And again. And again. And then... Got a letter saying they'd lost my drugs. Completely clean record! I'm sure there's a lesson there somewhere...
(CrudeButEffektiv, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 13:18, Reply)

Walking home from the pub
Happily drunk with my girlfriend about 100 yards to the house we started to discuss what we would have on the TV when we got in.

To my mind the only logical way this could be solved would be in a classic race home and first one there gets to choose. What I didn't expect was my girlfriend to steal a march on me and get away into a sprint first. Just before she got away I managed to grab hold of her arm and and in the ensuing tussle we both ended up on the floor trying to get away from each other. Neither of us noticed the plod car that pulled up at the exact moment and the female police officer clearly assuming I was battering my girlfriend asking her if 'Everything is alright?'. 'Yes' she says, 'first one home gets to choose the telly'. Oh says plod, thats ok then and drives off.
(Greasy Chip Butty, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 13:14, Reply)

Climbing the walls
There's a few police-oriented stories from my younger days. I think this was one of the sillier ones ...

Living in The City, good mate staying with us, it's 2am-ish, we've had a fair bit to drink, and run out of fags. So, mate and I walk to local all-night garage, via Moorgate - where a lot of the buildings have facades made of big square blocks. Blocks which make them look very easy to climb. So, obviously...

There I am, 25 foot up an office wall, mate at the bottom looking upward, when a passing police car slows down to see what he's up to (we were long haired, leather jacket people in those days, so probably looked a bit suspicious). Pulls up, has conversation with mate (never did find out what he said). Mate points in random direction, and walks off.

Police car does not leave for another 2 minutes. Meanwhile, I'm clinging on to this wall for dear life hoping that none of them decide to look up. Luckily, they never did.

My fingers were hurting, though.
( wonko the sane, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 13:14, Reply)

Edinburgh Poliss
I was hitching just south of Embra, stuck on a roundabout being ignored by every passing driver. Along comes a police motorcyclist. "Here we go" I thought "he's going to move me on.
Which was true, but not in the way I thought:
"Whurr ye goin, son?"
"Leeds."
"No gettin very far, are ye?"
"No..."
"Hawd on a sec..."
He got off the bike, stood at the side of the road, & flagged down the next lorry.
"There ya go, sonny."

Chap!
(keef, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 13:13, Reply)

it was wintertime
and the snow had ben falling heavily.
My sister, her friends and i, decided to go bowling/cinema or something.. i can't really remember.
we were all sober and i was driving very carefully due to the icy roads and was feeling quite pleased with myself as i obeyed every speed limit and signpost... the model citizen i thought.
That's why i was so confused when i heard the sirens whooping to pull me over.
"whatever for?!" i thought to myself as i stopped in the next layby.
as i wound down my window to talk to the copper who was tapping on the glass, the thick build-up of snow on the exterier of the glass was scraped from the window and literlly covered the coppers feet completely.
"ah" i thought....
"step out of the car please sir" said the fuzz.
as i stepped out of the car i realised why we had been pulled over.
The car was literally covered in snow, and the porthole i had made in the windscreen part of it (for me to see out) was only about 6 inches wide.
So that's why i weas driving with my nose about 2 inches from the windscreen i thought.
I had inadvertantly been driving an igloo down the road.
The copper made us scrape all the snow off the car there and then. no gloves or scrapers... just extremely pink aching hands.

on yer way! instructed copper.
( biscuits_alive taste my rainbow, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 13:09, Reply)

If you ever get the chance, do this:
Myself and two mates were pulled over in car by local five O... nothing on us but we were a bit pissed off cos it was the third time in two weeks...

Mate1: (to copper) Is it true that if I was to swear at you, say, call you a cunt you could arrest me?
Cop: (very stern)Yes
Mate1: But if was to think that a copper's a cunt there's nothing they could do is there?
Cop: That's right
Mate1: (pauses, mutters "right, right" to himself then walks a bit closer to the copper and talks right into his face)In that case I think you're a cunt.

Fan-fucking-tastic. Cue barrels of laughter from us and a very red-faced copper who's just realised that he actually gave his express permission to have the piss taken
(No6, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 13:03, Reply)

Yeah right
3 of us there was, in Northampton, about 14 we were on the school roof at like 8 at night fine tuning our climbing skills. Martin green, Justin White and me......so some old fart rings the police and we get told to "get down" Copper asks martin his name and address...
." Martin Green Sir......"
his eye's suggest a fib
"where do you live boy?"
"Orchard green sir"
looks wound up......!
"what about you son?" and turns to Justin....
"Justin white sir"
Now he's pissed
"O really you must think Im bloody daft"
so he looks at me and Im shitting it and with my head held low proceed to tell him my true name....just like both my mates had
"Hillard Pokrzywnicki sir"

and with that we were all told to get in the back of the car for bullshitting and took home

We wernt even that clever to have made names up thats the worst bit.....Never had to take us home though did he really.....My mum to this day when I see her looks at me as if Im Charlie Manson I swear!!!!
(cheekybleeder, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 13:00, Reply)

As luck would have it....
... One evening, many moons ago, I was wending my merry way home from a mate's house, with a sweatshirt pocket full of a selection of pre-cut eighths of fine weed and hash: I had some decent grass, some skunk, a bit of ordinary and a nice lump of Manali...

Imagine, therefore, my horror at discovering that the white diesel-engined Ford Escort van that had beeen accompanying my short walk home for the last 5 minutes was, in fact, a police dog van, containing one bored plod and one over excited Alsatian.

Plod has decided that I look a bit likely (which I probably did), and has bid me stop and explain myself, while he goes through the contents of my pockets. Naturally, I'm bricking it, and the dog, god bless him, can tell, and is going absolutely beserk in the back of the van.

Meanwhile, my explanation that I'm a student, on my way home appears to have settled well with plod, and just as he's about to ask me to turn out my big front pocket (the one containing Howad Marks' pension), he asks me what I'm studying. "Photography", says I.

There is a god.

It just so happens that plod is a keen amateur photographer, and would much rather have a good old chin-wag about film speeds and filters than drag a stoned student thru the wheels of law and order.

He forgets to get me to empty the pocket, and, following a discussion on the relative merits of fixed vs zoom lenses, bids me a safe journey home and sends me on my way. The Alsatian was still doing it's nut in the back of the van as he drove off...

Sorry 'bout the length, but that's the closest I've ever come to being busted, and it was quite close enough, thank you very much!
(doctor sideburns, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 12:56, Reply)

An inside stich up part 2
I wouldn't have had anything to post unless it hadn't been for my boyfriend two timing me and his other girlfriend attempting to assault me when walking in on us in bed together, and then I find that that story has already been posted.

I'd always thought the police were meant to be nice people until that point too, but the police woman who took my statement had obviously decided it was all my fault before she even came to the house and treated me like dirt.

But it has a happy ending, I thought humiliation in work was punishment enough and forgave him and now we're living happily ever after together :)
( ohdear, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 12:52, Reply)

I spent about a year as a Postman
Every morning, about 4.30am I 'd set off to walk the 4 miles or so into the sorting office in Coventry city centre.
Every now and again (it happened about a dozen times) the plod would stop me and ask me what I was doing.
Bearing in mind I'm in full postie uniform and carrying a Big Red Sack I'd have thought it fairly obvious.
On the last occasion it happened I'd had a bad night and wasn't in the best of moods.
Cock in a cop car followed me for about 200 yards before pulling alongside.
"Oy ! You mate. Mind telling me where you're going at this time of the morning ?"
"Sorry Officer, but you've heard of Female Impersonators ? Well I'm a Royal Mail Impersonator"
"You What ?"
"I like to dress up in a Postie uniform and walk around the streets in the early hours."
"Are you taking the piss ?"
"You Fucking started it !"

Needless to say I got nicked !

In the car :
"You are under arrest for impersonating an employee of the Crown, anything you say etc........ Do you have anything to say ?"

"Yes - Ouch ! Ouch ! Bastard Coppers, Stop Hitting Me ! - Now, write that down !"

Got a laugh down the station and I got a morning off work.
( The Mighty Gusset Doesn't Care - And Doesn't Care Who Knows It !, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 12:47, Reply)

my only brush with the law consisted of
'don't ride your bike on the pavement young lady'

At 11, that was pretty scary!
(smithsonian, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 12:44, Reply)

traffic cones
I've always wanted to purchase a traffic cone by legitmate means and get a receipt. Then get pissed and wander around the town carrying my traffic cone.
(thrain, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 12:37, Reply)

After drinking approx a bottle of Gin
I ended up COMPLETELY blootered. Seriously and absolutely minging. We were walking back to a mates house to continue the festivities and I thought it would be a grand idea to kick over one of the plastic warning bars around a gas pipe that was being worked on, just as a copper car was coming past. Cue coppers braking to a halt and reversing. One of my female friends (I couldn’t speak) explained to the policeman that I had just fallen into the bar, to which the copper replied, “If he can pick it back up, we’ll let him off”.

I couldn’t. I was so pissed I fell into the hole. I gave it another try, and then sort of muttered “hvsssmmamammsmams” and started staggering off down the road. Mr Policeman was having none of this and promptly nicked me, put me in the back of the car and explained to my friends that I was spending the night in the local cop Hilton. No problem.

I was remarkably calm about all this, until I started accusing the two coppers of nicking my tabs. Of course, I’d smoked the lot before being arrested. They said they hadn’t. I said they had. This escalated until I was *screaming* abuse at them. Once we were in the station and I was being charged, one of the friends I was with previously rang up and explained that he was a trainee solicitor, and could he speak to me. I was put on the phone and started calling the desk sergeant worse that shite, screaming down the phone really, to which he said, “Put the desk sergeant back on please would you?” as it was obvious I was in no state to hold a civil conversation.

Things got worse when I then started accusing them of nicking all my personal belonging’s including a gold ring I got off a grandparent for a 21st birthday. Bundled into the cell, I shouted and hurled abuse whilst sitting on the thin mattress directly opposite the cell door until I passed out appox 2 hours later.

I have to stress here that I was completely out of control. By this time I could walk, but it seemed as if the gin had created a weird bypass of all calm thought and tapped into the primitive anger centre of my brain. I was being an arsehole. An utter, utter arsehole. I have nothing against the law at all usually, and respect and admire the job they do but this time, I was a dervish.

At 6am I woke up, saw where I was and thought “Oh. HELL. What’s happened here?” Asking for a drink of water I got the “Ohhhh, you’re awake now are you?” in a really sweet and understanding voice.

The crunch to all this? My father has worked in the police force for over 30 years, and is well know to all around the region. As soon as they knew my surname they bumged me up in a cell, but in the morning it was “You aren’t XXXXX’s son are you?” to which they full well knew I was and I had to listen for 45 minutes about how disappointed my father would be, and how he’s so well respected to all, a well liked man in the brotherhood of police etc etc etc. While I was being printed, photographed and cationed.

To top it all off, I got home ready to explain what had happened to dad, and someone from his station had recognised me. And gave him a phone call. And he let me know about how disgusted he was at me.

Somehow, A good kicking would have been so much better.

I have never drank as much gin in my life again…………….

Sorry for the long post, but I’m so glad to get that off my chest. :)
(Pandaemonium, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 12:35, Reply)

An inside stitch up.
Working in the IT dept in my local police force I have to keep myself out of trouble. A run in with the boys in uniform and I could end up out of a job.

Anyway last year I thought it would be a good/stupid/foolish idea to start seeing another girl, Anna, behind my girlfriend’s back. One thing lead to another, days turned into months and I was getting the best of both worlds.

Towards the start of last year, I was house sitting for my aunt. Nice pad, no rent.... result! Anyway, I thought I'd take Anna back to the new pad and show it off.

Whilst "showing it off" we heard a key in the door downstairs. Unknown to me, my girlfriend had got a key cut and thought she'd drop by to surprise me. Following the trail of clothes up the stairs you can picture the scene that followed. After managing to restrain her, she refused to leave the house without killing Anna on the way out – she’d already taken a kick at her. With no option left, I phoned the local police station.

They showed up and she left peacefully. An hour later her Dad turned up at the door and decided he was going to try and kick the door in to “have a chat” with me. Aye right! Another phonecall and another visit from the local area car followed. Due to the damage to the door I had, to take the next day off work to get it fixed.

The following day I arrived into work and walked into the office. Above my desk was an A1 printout of the entire incident report pinned to the wall beside my desk. The cop on the other end of the phone had recorded the incident as "CALLER CAUGHT IN BED WITH ANOTHER WOMAN BY HIS GIRLFRIEND" in nice large letters along the top of the report.

Needless to say I became a legend to half the office and despised by the other half. I'll let you determine what half was female.
(StevieMcK, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 12:33, Reply)

comedy capers with the french peeegs
Being a biker, I go to a lot of biker events including the Le Mans 24hr motorbike endurance. It was a few years ago that I was there when a french Hells Angel tried to intimidate the french riot police by running into the road in front of their riot van to stop them, and then banging, as hard as he could, on the side. When the occupants (obviously seeing that this bloke was severely bolloxed on weed and pastis) ignored him he got quite upset and ran round to the front of the vehicle, dropped his strides and elegantly laid the biggest, most steamingest log I have ever seen. Ahhh the french, such style, such panache....
(urgle-splurgle molesting small goats since, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 12:32, Reply)

I was a bit straight-laced as a teenager
In fact when this happened I was 18 but didn't even really drink. My idea of a good night out was to take my car that I'd finally been able to buy the day before out for a drive with my mate Chris. Well, we're trundling through scenic Brentwood when Chris asks 'is there somewhere we can stop for a puff?' and rattles his tin at me. I pull into a little car park and we walk into the little copse, sit on a bench and start chatting while he skins up - I didn't smoke but I was happy to let others do it.
Then the rozzers pull into the car park and start looking very closely at my pride and joy. Normally we'd have kept silent, but having only just bought the car and sent the log book off that day, I was worried that if they did a check on it it would come up as unregistered and there'd be all sorts of trouble.
So I trot out of the wood, my head full of teenage certainties like, Chris has got the tin with him, and the Police are bound by the rules of reasonable suspicion. "Is everything OK, officers?" I ask. We go through the usual rigmarole, is this your car, yes but I only bought it yesterday, I have the receipt, etc etc. Then this big bad bastard of a copper looks me in the eye and says "where are the drugs?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Where are the drugs, sonny?"
"There aren't any drugs, officer, I don't do them. And I think it's a bit stereotypical of you to assume that just because I'm a young man out taking some air in the evening, there must be drugs involved."
"Well you won't mind if we have a look in your car then, sir."
Of course I didn't, knowing that Chris definitely, absolutely had his tin with him, hidden in the copse. I reach to get the plipper from my pocket to unlock the car and... Chris comes trotting out of the forest saying "...er, actually..." Turns out he'd only taken a few select bits and pieces with him, and the majority of his stash was still in the car.
So he got dragged down the station for an official caution, and I was left a bit red-faced, my righteous indignation having been caught for the bullshit it was. I was also informed by the officer that "if you have two blokes in a wood after dark, they're either gay or smoking something," which was news to me, but it makes me realise I could have gotten away with it just by offering him a kiss...

Oh and from experience I can tell you the Police are definitely, definitely NOT fans of the ancient and noble sport of jousting. At least not when it's being played at midnight in a local car park using shopping trolleys.
(theunknownanorak, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 12:28, Reply)

Female Anatomy Hilarity... Almost.
In the dark streets of Canterbury I was guilty of a rather heinous act.

It is a very quiet place so anything to liven up your evenings is well worth any minor trouble with the local constabulary and if it includes childish vandalism... all the better.

Me and a mate noticed that a popular high street chemist was just asking for some fun. We made a little half circle of white perspex, then grabbed a ladder and some white gaffer tape under the cover of darkness to the High Street.

We prepare ourselves, I'm holding a ladder as my mate climbs the steps. Just as he's got to the top and securing our piece of art, we are bathed in white light and hear the sound of a door closing.

A fine member of the local constabulary says "Hello, lads. What are you up to at this time of night." Just at the exact moment my mate is admiring his handiwork of changing 'Boots' into the hilarious 'Boobs'.

I was so scared, I didn't let go of the ladder for 5 minutes. Thankfully, the police officer saw the funny side but he did make us take down our little amendment to the retail experience of East Kent. I was very young, that's my excuse anyway and I'm sticking to it.
(In_there_like_swimwear, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 12:17, Reply)

Lemony goodness
Once upon a childhood we lived next door to an elderly angel who played the organ down the local church. Possibly not the best neighbour for three young boys. She was a right old dragon, always complaining to our mum about anything we did, and practicing her organ loudly at 2AM. We hated her with a passion and always schemed to make her life a misery in retaliation.

One time my brother scaled her back fence and pinched all the lemons from the tree in her backyard. When she complained to our mum we gave them back, via a cricket bat and her roof. She then called the cops.

They turned up later that afternoon and tried to get us to admit it was us. We each denied all knowledge, so we copped a lecture on the pitfalls of a life of crime and the benefits of little old ladies or somesuch. It's kinda hard to remember because of the fact that the lecturing cop's partner chose to stand beside him with his hands in his trouser pockets the whole time, which perhaps wasn't the best look, seeing as this simply made it plainly obvious that he had forgotten to do up the fly of his trousers that morning.
( Udderbelly A tale of four titties, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 12:15, Reply)