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.
(Wong Fei-Hung - now with added flickr.com (see profile), Thu 8 Jan 2004, 16:46, Reply)