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This is a question Breakin' The Law

'I'd taken some mushrooms in a pub,' writes Allen Smithee, 'and things had got a bit odd. People turning into goblins, barstools into toadstools etc. I wandered off from my friends and found myself in a carpark. I noticed a huge liquorice allsort driving towards me and Bertie Basset got out. I kinda realised that Bertie was a policeman and my brain went into paranoid fast forward. I decided that I must be being arrested and said, "I'll just get in the back of your car, Officer" Bertie looked at me with disgust, "Not bleeding likely sunshine. Just piss off home ok?"'

(, Wed 7 Jan 2004, 20:34)
Pages: Popular, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

From the archives of the Met
where y Dad used to work as a Sargeant. Anyway, one of his mates at the same police station was into motorbikes. One day, he goes down to a motorbike fair-thingy some 100 miles away from London. In biker gear the gu looks perfectly disrespectable. Sees a guy with an obviously stolen bike. Feeds him a priceless story about wanting to buy the bike on the condition the guy follows him to his house in London and they complete the deal there. Anyway, this muggins and the copper travel 100 miles up to London and pull up outside a police station. The copper says "Gimme a minute to do X" hops of the bike and walks over to muggins. The muggins, noticing something is wrong looks up at the police station and turns to the copper saying (with an air of suprise) "You're a bleedin' copper aren't you?". Hereby follows a swift arrest.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 18:10, Reply)
As a commentary to Meejahor's story
...I know exactly which University and course he's talking about, 'cos I was in the class of '99.

And every time they handed out video equipment to us they gave us a very stern warning based on that exact incident.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 17:49, Reply)
After reading Dr Sideburns post
I remembered. Went to a squat party in Brixton a few years ago. Typical night of mass pill/speed consumption and dancing like some sort of deranged weirdo to filthy, filthy acid techno. Anyhoo, left at about 7am, and got the tube back to Charing Cross, via McDonalds on the Strand. There was about 5 of us, 3 girls and me and a mate. We're quite happily sitting drinking our tea when a couple of rozzers walk in and up to the counter. We didn't think anything of it, but there van seemed to sit oputside for rather a long time, which did raise my suspicions somewhat. So, we leave
McD's for the station. As we get outside the van pulls away, drives ahead of us and cuts right in front of us as we walk into the station. Shit, we think. So out get 3 coppers, two male and one female. in the police's defence, this chap had to be the nicest policeman I have ever met. He started asking me the usual, where we'd been what we'd been doing etc. He starts to search me, so I volunteer to take off my shoes, and jacket and the like to make it easier for him. "Do you take drugs?" he asks. Can't lie. Pupils like fucking saucers. "Yes" I proudly reply. I've got 5 pills in the change section of my wallet. Next thing he takes is my wallet and starts going thru it. "So, how are you getting home then?" "Train", "Do you have a ticket" " I most certainly do" Grab my wallet back from copper and show him my train ticket. Phew!! The only place he didn't look was the change section of the wallet, where the pills were, thank fuck. Turns out that another large group of equally mashed people had made some comment to the old bill in McD's and they thought it was us, the fuckers. The other copper told my mate to follow him, so he dropped his stash bag as he walking behind him. Coppers fuck off, mate goes and picks up his stash bag, we pop a cheeky half, and get on the train home.
1-0 to us then, but a close shave nonetheless.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 17:43, Reply)
I was "told" to be a voluntary attender at a police station becuase someone used a picture of mine when sending 30,000 hate-emails to the Green Party.

I got the SERIOUS interview - good cop / bad cop thing.

I was in tears as they were screaming at me and everything.

actually. it wasnt that funny really.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 17:40, Reply)
not technically mine, but i stood up in court...
a friend of mine won a prestegious place at uni, lense based media, any way. after a couple of months in halls there were some southerners accros the way pissing him off. he asked politely for them to keep it down, they told him where to go, he asked him again, they slagged off his northern accent. BOO. he decided that to shut them up by donning full black attire and whilst holding a replica MP5 machine gun ran around campus banging on their window shouting he would blow all their heads off ( insert eastern european accent). a few screams were heard but all fel quiet. he retires to his room with a smug feeling and a warm glow, knowing he had made the world a better place. 25 mins later i , his room mate, wake him up. the sounds of a helicopter and a bright light were streaming throught the window. we gingerly look out to see an SO19 unit, armed response unit and a shit load of police dogs moving towards the entrance. he gets up and goes to the door of the dorm. and is 'aprehended' (thrown to the ground and kicked the odd time) driven around in the back of a transit and taken to a fuzz station in north london. he was instantl expelled but i protested his innocence against the panel and gave him a caractor reference in court. he was let off in the end. now he is at manchester uni. not all bad then eh?
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 17:28, Reply)
Barking Policemen
When i was a wee-nipper (about 14), me and my friend used to go to the part/posh theatre bit in the centre of town and drink stuff we nicked from our parents, and pretend to be pissed.

A few weeks earlier there had been a big thing in the papers about how "local youths where wrecking the local park, condoms hung round like a chirstmas tree and bins in the lake", didnt bother us.

We went along then all of a sudden 5 police cars came from no where, me and 3 mates ran into this little garden bit until things went quiet, after thinking the coast was clear, we legged it to this little ally that lead outa the park. Unfortuantly Mr Policeman spotted us and chased after us, unkown to me at the time (that he was a police fella), all I heard was some bloke pretending to be a dog and barking, and thought the local tramp was off on one. After exiting the ally we proceded to leg it until he caught up with us, and it was Mr Police man, he wasnt very happy and we all got searched... 5 mins later Mr fat policeman caught up and nearly had a fit from all the excerise.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 17:17, Reply)
PC taking the piss
Having celebrated a mates birthday at Majetyk in Leeds, me and said mate poured out onto the pavement arm in arm and still clutching our beers, searched for somewhere to relieve ourselves. We spotted a copper across the road and in our booze addled wisdom decided it would be a good idea to ask him if he knew anywhere suitable to have a piss without getting in trouble. "Just nip round that corner lads" he shouted to us, pointing behind him to a sidestreet. YAY!

Imagine our suprise when the same copper nicked us both for indecent exposure! We had to give statements there and then, which made for very funny reading in court, especially the bit when my mate said "But I used to be in the force myself"
"really?" replied the officer
"Nah, coppers are a bunch of cunts"
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 17:00, Reply)
Around the age of 15
myself, my slightly younger cousin and a few others were off drinking in the park - drink of choice was Vodka, mixed into a half empty Lucozade bottle (normal orange stuff, this was before the fancy flavours).

A typical night would involve me and a mate buying everyone's booze in the only local offie that wasn't concerned what age you were, then we'd all stand around freezing, drinking and talking bollocks to impress the girls.

This night my cousin has a real session, and is totally paraletic - I find him face down at the bottom of a tree, not looking too clever and with puke all over. I pick him up and with the help of another lad we start carting him home, one arm over each shoulder. After a few minutes the police drive by and stop us. A young copper asks if we've been drinking (by this stage we'd let my cousin drop to the floor and he was quietly singing 'Wonderwall'), so we admit that my cousin may or may not have had an ale or two, but we're tea-total and just bringing him home. They scoop him up off the floor and bring him to the back of the car while the younger cop just sort of stands there giving us disapproving looks. Lead copper comes back from the car and says that my 'cousin' claims to have first met me tonight and that I was 19 and had supplied him with all the booze. A bit rich considering at the time we were both 15 and had been trying to get the little bastard home safely, gotta love family loyalty.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:59, Reply)
During Bush's visit to the UK....
I did a spell outside Buckingham Palace to distribute some posters.

This was the one that almost got me arrested...

I got into 'secret service' mode (dark suit, sunglasses, headphone in one ear), and split my time between deliberately cruising through the crowd in a menacing fashion and presenting my range of non-branded posters to all and sundry.

Soon enough, I was confronted (with some urgency) by a senior policeman with the exclusive shoulder-plate: 'EY-1'

Here's a picture of him:

I was given an official warning that I could not show or distribute *any* more posters under the Public Order Act because of the objectionable nature of *one* of them.

Bluff No. 1

I tried to clarify the point, and was told that - given the context of the material and the nature of our location - such material could cause offence to tourists


I looked around at hundred-or-so police, the thousand-or-so protestors and the dozens and dozens of journalists, and wondered out loud where exactly these tourists might be.

EY-1: 'Could I have your name, sir?'

He then proceeded to take my details until I questioned his need to do so. He admitted that he had no cause to do so and withdrew The Pad of Doom.

Bluff No. 2

At that moment I spotted a journalist from the Indy and immediately collared him and told him what was going on. Within seconds half-a-dozen journalists, short-handing for all they were worth, surrounded me. (How they got past all those tourists, I'll never know.)

When the excitement died down, I went back to Mr EY-1 and asked for further clarification. I had been told not to show or distribute any more posters at risk of arrest, and asked what my position was with regards to showing and distributing them online.

A junior officer piped up immediately with: 'Well, the Internet is very different, becau...'

That silence you hear is the result of a look of death from EY-1. (Poor dear. I hope she recovers from the radiation burns soon.)

Basically, I was (and still am) free to show and distribute the offending poster online until told otherwise (click here for a larger, print-worthy version) but I should warn you that - speaking from personal experience - displaying or distributing it yourself could get you into a lot of trouble.

So, rather than download and enlarge that, I suggest that you download and enlarge this:

Because - not unlike the massive security force that protected George W. Bush from embarrassment - it seems perfectly innocent and legitimate, but in reality it is made up of lots of little arseholes.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:59, Reply)
Netto brand Policeman, 16ptn BFG
I have never had any run-ins with the proper law. However, I have had the Lidls/Aldi version - a run in with a special constable.

After an enjoyable evening at the local cinema I was preparing to drive us to the local McDonalds for a post-film nosh-up. Started up the car, started to pull away when a car opposite us - a manky white Morris Ital - flashed his lights at me. It was dark, my lights weren't on but the carpark was very well-lit. I ignored the chap's flashing and proceeded towards the cinema car-park exit. The chap's light flashing became more and more urgent so I gave him a cheery one fingered salute of recognition. Big mistake.

We left the carpark, I flicked on the headlights and carried on towards McD's noticing that the manky white Ital was following us very closely and flashing his lights. I pulled into McDonald's car park and this prick of a bloke screeched to a halt beside me, leaped out of his car (and motioned for his kids and friend to do the same) then swaggered his fat arse over to my car and motioned for me to roll down my window. He gave me a right bollocking, the self-important tosser. When I questioned his authority to actually have a go at me: "You're not a real copper and you're not on duty, so you've got no right to pull me up," the smug twat pulled out his "Special Constable" ID card, flashed it at me and his entourage and boasted "I AM a proper policeman, just not a full time one. Next time watch the handsignals, sunshine, or there'll be trouble." Then he swaggered off to McD's, satisfied that he had impressed his two scruffy kids and twat of a mate with his third rate law enforcement, the smug cunt.

Actually I was stopped for speeding through town once. Late at night after 13 hours at work. I was tailed & pulled over by a police motorbike. Luckily I was wearing a business suit, so I looked pretty respectable. I also had a cold, which I cunningly exaggerated to the point of terminal influenza. The copper asked me what I was doing driving so fast so late at night, I explained I had been at work since "5am" and had spent an hour on the road driving home.
"Where do you work?" he asked.
"Bejams. In Cambridge," I replied.
"Oh. Right. Do you sell Black Forest Gateaux at Bejams?" he replied. "Only it's my wife's birthday the day after tomorrow..."
I got off with a friendly word of warning, possibly because of my expert advice on defrosting 16 portion cakes in time for forgotten spouses birthdays...
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:58, Reply)
Not a run in with the law as such, but my god it could have been.
A couple of years back, I went to Glastonbury and hopped the fence. I had such a great time that on the way home I was feeling generous and decided to give a lift to a pair of hitchhikers.
They turned out to be Czech, over here working for a couple of years, and generally very nice.

They were going to Oxford (I was going to London), but I took them most of the way anyway. At one point we're driving along an A road (forget which one), and I miss the turning towards Oxford.

No problem, I thought - this was a single carriageway, and it was 1 AM by now so the road was pretty clear.
I whipped the car round and started making my way back to the turning I missed... and for some reason now the hitchhikers seemed to get all tense.

"Are you sure you can do this?", one of them asks. Yeah, no problem, says I (thinking she was talking about doing a three point turn).

A few minutes back down the road, I reach the junction - but for some reason, the signs are pointing the wrong way... and there's a road running parallel to this one on my left... and the junction is at some mad angle....

Oh. Apparently this was actually a dual-carriageway, and I'd just turned round and started driving back the wrong way.

The hitchhikers got out as quick as they could, and I drove home very carefully.

(In my defence, there were no streetlights and the bit where I turned round was where the carriageways have split up!)

Funnily enough, I drove past 3 cars whilst I was driving in the wrong direction. They didn't flash me or anything.. I wonder what they were thinking?
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:57, Reply)
God bless the RUC
Several years back, I went to visit some mates whose then home was on the route of the North West 200 motorbike race in north Antrim. Not surprisingly, there was a rope slung across their road about a hundred yards from where it crossed the race route, to stop people getting too close.

I was in my car with a couple of other mates, so we lifted the rope up and drove towards my mate's driveway. I got about twenty feet before a cop stopped me.
Cop: Where do you think you're going, sonny?
Me: Just visiting my mates.
Cop: Where are they, then?
Me: They live in that house there, on the corner.
Cop: Ah right. They're away into town.
Me: That's odd. I just spoke to them on the phone.
Cop: No, you couldn't have. They came up to me about an hour ago and asked me for directions to Coleraine.
Me: That's very odd, because they grew up here and I suspect they know exactly where Coleraine is.
Cop: No, they set off from here... definitely, just over an hour ago. There's nobody there now.
Me: Mmm. So who are those people who came out of the house about five seconds after we started this conversation, and who are currently standing at the gate and waving at us?
Cop: Er. I suppose you'd better go on through.

I also had the joy of once watching some cuntwipe from the RUC standing chatting amiably to a skinhead bedecked in BNP regalia who was engaged in photographing the crowd at an anti-nazi rally in the same area. Arseholes.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:46, Reply)
Not because of me but because of a friend, twice.
Once, walking from the park with my friend talking about her driving lesson. She was arguing about the fact about her being a little slow on idicating once and the teater noticing. After saying this, we saw a police car slowly pass us and turn right without indicating. Now being a bit of a mad loopy lass, she started to flip shouting in their direction about how they can get awaywith it. A few minutes after calming her down we felt we were being watched, the same police car was trailing behind us at a distance most of the way home, for a good 10 minutes, freaking me out. they did it on puropose.

The other time was on a night where we left a bar her boyfriend worked at. She had had a bit too much to drink and to smoke I belive, I was sober but as soon as we had got out the bar, up the steps and round the brick fence, she sat down on the pavement and collaped (not for the first time)just as a policevan carrying some gits in the back had stopped over the road. Asked is she was ok, I just said that she was ok, just a bit sleepy, they moved on. Luckly after waving stupedly over the fence I got her bf's attention to help drag her home.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:45, Reply)
One night a friend and I were incredibly drunk (no surprise there)
we were walking down Trafalgar Square, and he was so drunk he could hardly walk, instead adopting a sort of stompy stagger. A police car pulled up and the officer asked if he was OK. I said "yes, he's fine, he always walks like that"... For some reason they believed me and drove off smiling.

Another friend's dad decided to blast a squirrel in his garden with a shotgun right in the middle of the 2 minute silence for Diana's funeral. Seconds later the whole street was crawling with police, but they didn't catch him.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:42, Reply)
How not to make a video
[apols for longishness] ...

Part of one of the modules we had inflicted upon us at Uni, back in the days was to produce a short drama, scriptwriting, video techniques etc. Ours of course went without a hitch but was, I am sure the fellow group members agree, fairly poor. Doesn't make for an interesting story.

However, one of the other groups had decided to write a script which required staging a hold up in one of the city's record shops. They obviously arranged this with the store manager/owner prior to the 'shoot'. So they drive up to the store, and tape their arrival, fake guns in hands. Then they run into the shop and begin to arrange the interior scenes.

A short while later, cue screeshing tyres, slamming doors and various screams from outside of 'ARMED POLICE, EVERYBODY ON THE FLOOR, HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM' ... Yes, the shop and its environs were indeed completely surrounded by the massed ranks of West Yorkshire's Armed Response Unit. And Dogs. And nasty thick necked coppers in big boots. One of the crew emerges from the shop to remonstrate with the constabulary and gets told in no uncertain terms to GET ON THE FUCKING FLOOR, NOW at which point negotiations cease before they had really begun, and he had business end of several automatic rifles inches from his head. The whole crew get frogmarched, cuffed and cacking it presumably from the scene.

Yes they had neglected to inform the local council or the radics that they would be staging a hold up. Oops. The entire episode was later used as a marvellous case study in how not to arrange a location 'shoot'. I just guess the the crew and the Uni thank their deity of choice that no one came away from the day with big bloody holes in their naive bodies courtesy of West Yorkshire's finest. The Uni were obviously livid, and were apparently confronted with a bill for the entire operation well into 5 figures.

The best bit was seeing the tape of the whole kerfuffle (or is that brouhaha?)... the camera drops to its side on the floor. We see aforesaid crew member getting the treatment on the street, and we then get a macro close up of a boot. Camera is raised to see head and shoulder shot of copper, who says in his best tv announcer voice "Thanks, and goodnight" ... They should have got top marks just for the end result, or at least £250 from YBF. If any of you lot are reading this now, well done, heres to the class of '96.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:41, Reply)
ooh, ooh, just remembered one
just turned 18. my friend decided to take everything in the medicine cabinet (this is what he told us days later) before going to the pub.

needless to say it mixed very poorly with alchohol.

first of all he smashed a shop window with his fist. the pain from his cut hand calmed him down for a bit, but we got thrown out of all the pubs for the pools of blood he left everywhere, so myself and another friend took him to A&E and had him patched up

on the way home the pain killers they gave him set him off again and we had to wrestle him to the ground as he tried to take out a huge shop window.

eventually an onlooker phoned the bizzies who turned up in full riot gear in the big, protected van to see 2 men violently pinning another to the pavement.

it was looking like a beating and a night in the cells for all of us.

fortunatly, it being quite a small town, someone had phoned off-his-head-friend's mum who turned up just after the riot van, rescued us all and drove everyone home
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:32, Reply)
One of the few times..
... I've had a run in with the law (honest) was when I was pulled up by the only Jaguar police car in teh whole of County Durham I think. There I was in my W Reg Fiesta, the bonnet tied down with a washing line, one widow that would neither close nor open ( and as such 3 foot of snow in the passenger well), a huge dent along the driver side and a brown peeling canvas effect roof over the phlegm green metal.

"This your car son?" says the plod

"Yes" I reply in my late teens afraid of the police kind of way

"Never mind mate, theres time... " Plod wanders off...

(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:18, Reply)
not me, but a friend from school..

Used to like BB guns...he decided he would go with his friends like every other day to the park and mess around with there guns..

he went...no one was there...he went home..

he was up in his room and looked out his window and saw about 15 armed policemen walking around, he took some photos! and watched them move around.

about 10 mintues later 5 of them broke down his door,held automatic weapons towards his family, thats right someone saw him and phoned the police and viola,

the funny thing was - the paper got the hold of the story he was in the sun, the mirrior etc - one of the papers took a photo of him with his gun, in a James Bond pose...(gun to the side of the head, look stright into the camera etc)

he wasn't the most popular kid in school..and his last 2 years was hell..we ripped him hard...hard i say!
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:18, Reply)
so we're up in Manchest-a
for a weekend of susbtance abuse and reaching for the lasers. Saturday morning and I'm going home early because of my anally-retentive (now ex) girlfriend disapproving of my choice of friends. In a bid to prove to her that I wasn't taking Damon Hills all weekend I am sat on the train two hours after leaving the club chugging on gallons of OJ and repairing my face with lip balm. (It worked by the way).

My mates meanwhile are sat home with spliffs, poppers, vodka and decide to go to the park. Not the one down the road, but the one in Stockport. "Pete" as only sober one of the crew offers to drive "Harry"'s car for them and is cruising nicely along within the 40mph limit, wary of the various spannered clubbing casualties lining his back seat swigging from the vodka bottle attracting attention. "Fred" pipes up "Stop driving like an old woman" so "Pete" puts his foot down - 5 seconds later the blue flashing lights are in the rear view and "Harry"'s PartyWagon is pulled over.

You should receive 3 points for speeding and a further 6 for driving without insurance, plus a hefty fine, so "Pete" is pretty worried. When it comes to getting a court date, however, Greater Manchester police screw up countless times it takes a year to get to court. "Pete" and "Harry" turn up suited and booted, with a signed letter from "Harry"'s dad who happened to have been knighted several years before, stating that they had called him that day to enquire whther the insurance policy covered invited guest drivers, which he said he believed was the case.

The fact that "Harry" wrote this himself and there actually was no insurance policy whatsoever on the car didn't seem to matter at all. A combination of the police charging "Pete" with two seperate charges rather than one combined one (this is illegal btw), "Pete" clearly being the only sober one and therefore responsibly offering to chaffeur for the others and "Harry"'s amazing piece of perjury they get off with just the fine(?!).

The best bit was the original letter written by "Harry"'s dad, that simply said "Son, don't let those nazi coke-head bastrad rozzers win, Signed Sir Harry's Dad, Knight of the British Empire". It arrived on the morning of the trial, causing two hours of pant-brickage for "Pete" and "Harry". Daddy has pulled many pranks of his own in his time, and obviously wanted his youngest to learn the hard way - ie you do the crime you do the time, sunshine.

Sorry for the essay - first post got excited
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:17, Reply)
Gun fun
From the "didn't happen to me, but funny nevertheless..." camp. I belonged to the rifle club at university. Generally this involved shooting .22 target rifles and pistols at a range in Reading, but occassionally we'd go to Bisley to the big range there and shoot big-boy rifles. One time one of the club members was driving to Bisley with the rifles in his boot. This club member also happened to be from Belfast. A copper pulled him over for having a dodgy brake light and put the accent together with the rifles in the boot and made "IRA gunman". He got released... eventually...
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:11, Reply)
The joys of embassy police
When I was a scummy student (as opposed to a scummy academic ;) one of my mates lived in a UCL hall on Cromwell Road in London, more or less opposite the Nat. History Museum .... and so more or less next door to the French Embassy ... which tends to have nice policeymen with nasty guns outside ... this is important ;)

one night, party going on, first floor room has a balcony overlooking Cromwell Road (or the A4 if you will) some happy baby oragutans turn up and start throwing bottles at traffic ... I'm on the ground floor in a room having a "recreational cigarette" with a mate.... oh and there's a bag with about 200 small white pills with the logo of a certain jap car company on them ... when the police decide they've had enough and half boot the door of the hall down going "open up-armed police" ... luckily the pills disappeared on top of the wardrobe and the police only went after the bottle throwers but it took weeks to get the stains out of my trews .....
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:06, Reply)
Not big, not clever....not too funny either
I was tipsy (ahem) and out of fags so i decided to drive to the local 24 hour garage.

Taking great care to follow the rules of the road and observing all around me i saw a cop car and decided to slow down...to about 5 mph.

Fortunately, the bizzy didn't notice me and i got my cigarettes in peace.

BTW, absolutely atrociuos behaviour and if i had have been arrested i would have deserved it, but these things are sent for us to learn from. That's my excuse anyway...
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:01, Reply)

Did you just call me "dibble"
Where on my uniform does it say "Dibble"?
What does it say?
*reads out number on shoulder*
*gets digruntled and drives off, mumbling*
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:00, Reply)
a bit nothingey
When I was 14, and being oh so rebellious, me and my school pals were walking down the street and a police car drove past. I interrupted our conversation briefly to shout "BACON!" at the top of my voice. Feeling smug for spitting in the face of authority I carried on walking. A minute later, said police car pulled up and the driver looked at me with his evil eyes and went on about how insulting a police officer is an arrestable offence. by the end of his lecture i was a tad scared, being young and naive i honestly thought i was in serious trouble. however, at that exact moment, a butcher's van drove past, with the word "Bacon!" in huge letters along the side. I merely pointed, winked at the officer and carried on my merry way.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 15:54, Reply)
I work in the Theatre so I tend to go home from work quite late at night.

This story occurs on the night of an England vs Scotland football match and the police are expecting trouble.

On one occasion I was getting a lift home from my boss, as we are driving home from work we see a guy on the pavement by the roadside in some distress and we decide to stop and see if we can help, both being first aiders.

I turns out that this guy has been out for a few beers whilst watching the football on TV, spent all his money and has decided to walk home. It's a cold night and the exercise and the beer have given hin an Asthma attack. So we call an ambulance for him.

Suddenly we have two police cars scream up to us from both directions (one coming the wrong way down a Dual Carridgeway. Out jumps a several policemen who want to know what's going on as they've had reports of two guys dressed in black beating the hell out of a collapsed man on the side of the road!
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 15:43, Reply)
bit of a scary non-funny one, but 100% of fact.
A few years ago I was living in Clapton when the police kicked a man to death (allegedly) that they had arrested outside my flat. I didn't learn the full story until reading it a couple of weeks later in the paper, but I'd been kept awake by their blue flashing lights.
The next day I was having a smoke and a beer and watching daytime TV (I was student) when I got a visit from two of Stoke Newington's finest. Obviously my first thought was "Shit, I'm going to get nicked for posession". Instead, they asked me what I'd seen last night. I was a bit evasive (and possibly rude, as I've never exactly liked the police), so they started being a bit more insistent.
The doorway where we were having this conversation opened out onto a secluded yard and a quiet alleyway. After a couple of minutes of talking to what I took to be 'good cop', his larger and nastier mate picked up a half brick and began tossing it in the air one-handed, while lecturing me on what a dangerous area I was living in and how easy it would be for somebody to give me a beating without being seen. ACAB
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 15:38, Reply)
When I was young and silly...
I used to drive about late at night with all the other pikey wastrels.

One evening bout 1am, I'm following my two mates (in their lowered cars) through the centre of Bristol in my mum's fiesta.

The main shopping street in Bristol has raised speedbumps the same level as the pavement. Being a shopping street the pavements are also quite wide.

So, following them, I keep having to slow down as their lowered cars won't make it up onto the humps and down again easily. The fiesta I was driving however, will fly over them nicely.

Half way up the street I decide to overtake, by going up onto a speed bump and onto the pavement, BEHIND the trees and phoneboxes lining the street.

Grinning inanely, I suddenly realise that my friends are pulling over. Two policemen (man and a woman) are walking down the middle of the road waving torches. Ah.

I'm currently behind a phonebox, on the pavement.

Stopping quickly, I reverse back then drive along the street as normal, pull up and get out.

The police continue talking to my friends. I breathe a sigh of relief. Suddenly, the female copper starts walking over. She says (and I quote verbatim, I will never forget)
"Who's car is this?"
- Mine
"What were you doing driving along the pavement?"
- Oh (At this point, my life has flashed infront of my eyes and I can't say anything else)
"You were being a nob, weren't you?"
- Um, yes. (In an extremely pathetic tone)

She then proceeded to tell me off, and if I ever did it again, she'd throw the book at me. Then she let me go.

She let me go scott-free!

Best thing though, One of my friends driving the other car, got a fine for not wearing a seat-belt!

I've never even contemplated the pavement trick again.

And I never will. : )
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 15:35, Reply)
Visit from the SWAT team
3rd year university up in Nottingham, 8 of us lived in a house directly above a Ladbrookes, and opposite a pub. One day we discover several 2ft lengths of plastic tubing in the house, and that frozen peas fit rather snugly in them.

Most evenings were spent stoned and/or pissed, and our idle minds required simple entertainment. After shooting each other, we realised there were more interesting targets, in the form of students, outside... you can guess what happens next.

After a week of pea-shooting the occasional student, and loving every second of their bewilderment, our confidence (read stupidity) grew rapidly. Since we were on a corner we had good cover of the surrounding area, and at the peak of this game we were getting slightly carried away. On this particular occasion 3 of us played the "game" till about 2 in the morning. Then about 2:30 one of our housemates came back.. "There's about five police cars just down the road, something big's about to go off!". 3:30 and we hear a loud banging, and look out to see several policemen trying to break into the Ladbrookes below, obviously trying to get to us. My mate goes down to explain, gets promptly pushed against the wall and searched. The rest of us, in blind panic, attempt to clean up the hundreds of rizla, fagends and remaining gear before 5 armed police come up seconds later.

With a bag of frozen peas and the plastic tubes still lying on the table it was pretty obvious to them what was going on, and thankfully the head of the group had a sense of humour. My mate decided to tell them to "go catch some real criminals!" which sent us, at least, into fits of laughter. It turns out, however, that they had had three 999 calls about our antics and they thought we had been firing air-rifles. The house had been surrounded and a sniper was aimed at our windows, hence they knew about the weed. We were searched, and the house searched for these supposed air-rifles. Meanwhile we were told that our antics were "utter stupidity" and that we should know better. Luckily we managed to keep the weed and amazingly we weren't arrested, the only comeback was later being indirectly humiliated in a scathing article about students in a local paper. We asked for that, though, as we decided for some reason that we could sell the story to a paper, and voluntarily told several of our misendeavours.

We were c**ts back then.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 15:20, Reply)
While you where out
Some years ago, I had a bit of a mushroom sesh in my flat with some mates. Things had gotten weird and we all went for a walk.

Some time the next day I returned to my flat still easily confused. The first thing that alarmed me was the front door looked a bit fucked up. But it didn't concern me that much, though something seemed wrong with my flat to my drug addled mind.

I kept having the feeling some one had been in my flat. There was a piece of paper on my table that I must have looked at 20 times before I'd noticed The Sussex police logo at the top. " While you where out..." was all I read before my mind was sent reeling. My flat was covered in dope, mushrooms and drug paraphernalia.

Hours later when I'd carmed (come) down enough, I re-read the letter. There had been a flood and the police had broken in to turn off my water.
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 14:43, Reply)
A few years back
Two of my friends were coming back from a night out. They were walking back along this quiet street. There were some repairs being done to the path at the time so there were a load of traffic cones marking it out. One of my friends started kicking over cones for a lark. He thought it was such fun that he kicked all of the (20 or so) cones over whilst chuckling away to himself.

As he gleefully upends the final cone he gets a tap on the shoulder. Its a cop who's been following his escapades all the time. The cop gets him to go back down the street and return all the cones to thier original positions. The cop could have stopped him earlier but probably figured he'd have a bit of fun.

Cops with a sense of humour, who'd have thunk it?
(, Thu 8 Jan 2004, 14:31, Reply)

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