Speaking of utter cunts
My mum. Sixteen, pregnant and paranoid*. Opens the door to find a police officer standing there looking like, well, a police officer (ie a hatchet-faced humourless prick). Immediately visualises every single horrible thing that can possibly go wrong with my dad, who is a (lovable, caring, responsible) wanker (who, amongst other things, steals fire extinguishers from railway carriages and falls out of said carriage causing major head injury, and who is eighteen years old for those of you about to ask).

Officer allows her a few minutes to percolate these horrible, paranoid thoughts before presenting her with a bag of fish'n'chips that my dad has sent home with this bastard.

*I'm NOT a chav. I'm a BOGAN. It's COMPLETELY DIFFERENT.
(Emily Bruce-Dickinson http://jovialfellow.blogspot.com/, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 14:39, Reply)

The Bill
Yesterday my little boy got run over by a kid called Morgan who had stolen a car. The problem was that he wasn't speeding so the old bill wouldn't do him for murder. I went a little bit mental due to my stressful tour of Iraq, during which I had collected a trophy weapon. It was during a visit to the police sation that I took a whole load of coppers hostage.
That was when the evening took a turn for the worse, one of the young coppers tried to disarm me and in the hoo ha I shot a civvy who fell over some stairs. I also winged the young copper in the upper arm. This left me in a sticky situation with a only two hostages left. Unbeknowst to them, before I went to the station I had kidnapped Morgan and put him in the back of my old Peugot which was wired with explosives. I was gonna learn them a lesson, a proper lesson. Anyhoo this antsy copper called Terry went on and on and on and on and I eventually broke. During this time two CID members rescued the kid just before it blew.
It turned out that the whole mess was my fault I was simply looking for a scapegoat, I hope my ex-wife can forgive me.

Also Gabriel looks like he might still get away with his dastardly plan because the civvy was the real Gabriel Kent. Better still June leaves next week and Adam comes back. I hope Adam lets Gina back as she is my fave, do you know she is Gary Oldmans sister.
( spingers, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 14:25, Reply)

Heard this on the radio recently
and it is aparrently true. Local farm hand driving home through country lanes, after some cider. Going quite quick, attratcs the attention of local bobby. Bobby pulls Farm boy over and asks him to get out. Advises farm boy he was going quite quickly in his motor car, then poses this question: "What would you do if Mr. Fog came down?" Farm boy thinks he's taking the piss so responds with: "Well cuntstubble, I'd put Mr foot on mr brake, turn mr and mrs headlight on and slow down". Feeling quite pleased with his retort lasted briefly when the copper replies "No sir, I don't believe you heard me right. What would you do if mist or fog came down?"

true, true.
(Jazz Bloke Music has charms to soothe the savage breast, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 14:21, Reply)

Earlier this year
in the mighty Cork on a stag do, the sport of "roadwork sledding" is developed - turn one of those red/white temporary lane separators over and you get a very unstable slidey thing you can sit in. Whilst hammering up and down the road, two drunk but lovely young lasses ask if they may have a go.

As one of them approaches full speed with us pushing a car from the local constabulary pulls up

"oh cocksocks" thinks us

"now then boys" they start "are you been careful with those wee lasses?" we nod vigorously "Right you are then boys. carry on"

fucking love Cork ;)
( the mighty badger Aphrodite, on a bar stool, by your side, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 14:21, Reply)

14 years old
And rather stupidly walking alone through an unlit barren park at stupid o clock on the way to a friends house. Also stupidly chatting into my mobile thinking the sound of a friendly voice will stop me worrying about being mugged whilst being lit up like a christmas tree with my phone on full display!

Anyway half way through i noticed a light coming from my left. Looking over i noticed it was a guy with a flashlight pointing it at me. I told my friend on the phone that 'some perv is flashing a light at me' and hurried on.

Reaching the end of the park a police car pulled up and a copper leant out. 'Can I have a word miss' he said. Nervously I stepped up, never having had any kind of run-in with the fuzz before. "That was me with the light, I'm sorry if I scared you. There's all sorts of nasty people in there at this time so I was just doing my rounds' he apologised, before driving me to my friends house!!

Had a couple of other incidents, which I'll post later, but I've had nothing but good experiences with them and take my hat off to Britains fine constabulary!
(Mogg Questioned her own sanity on, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 14:12, Reply)

My Dad the axe murderer!
Back in the early 80s my family had a horendously coloured Austin Maxi [kind of a beige-like brown] and we lived in the wilds of Gloucestershire.

We had just moved there from the North West and so were pretty new to the locals.

One night at about 1am a bunch of coppers burst through our door, waking us all up, and took my Dad in for questioning.

It was quite scary to see your Dad taken away by the police to assist with their enquiries.
And seeing my Mum distressed for the first time was likewise scary.

He got released the next day and, as is the style in my family, nothing more was said about the incident.
Just as if it had never happened.

Many years later I found out what had happened that night.

A dismembered body had been found in the woods and a beige-brown Austin Maxi had been seen fleeing from the scene.

My Dad owned the only Austin Maxi of that colour locally and, of course, he was new in the neighbourhood. [Classic traits of a guilty man]

Of course my Dad could easily verify that he:
a) went straight home from work
b) was at home at the time of the murder
c) that his car was parked in our drive at the time of the murder
d) he didn't own an axe

But for one night the police had my Dad figured as an axe murderer.
( coder.keitaro I like pies!, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 14:07, Reply)

oh another one...
Got stopped by a lone policeman whilst I was driving home one night a few years ago...

PC: Excuse me sir, do you know how fast you were driving?
Me: Yes. Do you?
PC: Er.. Just take it easy, off you go.

HaHaHaHaHa
( ashurek, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 13:57, Reply)

I wouldn’t normally reply like this over the board but…
I felt compelled to do so in this case.

To disasterprone who said “Also, for the sanctimonious wankers who insist on preaching about drink/drug driving: Of course it's wrong, but this is a fun website, not a place for warning people about how you disapprove of their behaviour. I hope you all get run over by drink/drug drivers, simply for being such twats.”

Thankyou for your kind and comforting comments. I shall be honoured to pass them on to the family of one of my best mates who was killed by a speeding drunk driver a couple of years back. I’m sure they will appreciate your thoughts.

You sir, are a first class arsehole.

Sorry to do this on here, but I think it warranted it in this case.
(Bertie Dastard Wax on, wax off, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 13:56, Reply)

the police
a story a friend told me after he had wandered home rather drunkenly one night...

he was wandering home and found a cereal box full of newspapers sitting at the side of the road, and with memories of summers full of us sitting burning things in his garden, came to the conclusion it would be a good idea to set it on fire. in the middle of the road
sitting in his flat seconds later (a ground floor one, with the window on the street level) watching the box burning away happily when a motorist drives past, stops, spys him sitting watching and calls the police
que him scared shitless and hiding in his bed pretending to sleep when the police appear and start knocking on his door

he was still scared the next day that the police would reappear and question him (regardless of how easy it would have been to worm his way out of any blame - nobody saw anything apart from the guy finding him watching from his window, and you would watch if youfound a small fire in the middle of your road)

David
(442, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 13:50, Reply)

Not funny but all I've got this week
oh yeah before I start, all those who are dissing this QOTW because it takes the piss of plod when they do a very difficult job. Well yes they do, but then they can be Cnuts JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. Would you take the same view if the QOTW was about sainsburys till girls who are all useless? No? Well in that case leave us alone to have a laugh. WHICH IS WHAT ALL THIS IS REALLY ABOUT


Thankfully only run ins with the law are for driving too fast, however a few mildly entertaining anecdotes…


1) Getting done for speeding by an undercover mondeo. They did me over a mile. It took 38 seconds. You do the maths. Oops
2) Coming back from Manchester after a night out, down the big hill to brighouse pulling a ton ten, jam sandwich pulls alongside and plod waves his finger in a ‘tut tut’ kind of way – phew!
3) while working in a restaurant as a 17 year old, jst passed my test, driving mummys rather flash escort (i.e. far too nice a car for a 17 year old to have) I got pulled 14 times one December in a drink driving crackdown. Got to the stage where one copper pulled me over and when I got out to remonstrate said “Oh it’s you – on your way mate”.
4) Was actually in police cadets for a while, did all sorts of cool stuff like being a rioter in the riot training – oh what fun stuffing a dustbin over some wet behind the ears trainees head! Much to the amusement of his colleagues
5) Successfully getting a police dog that was meant to be hunting me down to Sit and Beg – oh my life did I take the piss (much like the other B3TA’s who did the same thing

Is all for now – I wish I had a funny one – not been on front page for a long time…

Insert Truncheon Length Joke Here.
( ogwen69 has returned from Reddit, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 13:24, Reply)

scary policemen
Me and a friend were having a fit of nostalgia once, and deceided we missed drinking like we did before we could get served. Namely, getting drunk on 8% turpentine based cheap cider (our offy's was 'pulse', Im sure you all had your own local versions).
The night went very badly for us because we deceided to drink this teenage filth AND go to local to engage in big boy pants, pint drinking.

On the walk home from this very messy drinking session we passed our local primary school I said wistfully
"You know the days are gone when my idea of fun was to climb onto the roof of that school"

my friend replied
"you know what? I never have"

"What? you've never climbed the school roof? you've never lived my good man. what? dangerous? don't be so camp"

So about 10 minutes later, after a very dangerous climb we stopped to catch our breath, exchange a manly hug and survey the grey, banal world around us from our lofty, godlike perches. While we were having a tour of the roof my friend accidently put his foot through a sky light. We thought it might be a bit dangerous after all and deceided to leave.
After an even more dangerous climb down we walked across the school field toward home.
Suddenly we were surrounded by 8 baton wielding, policemen. They were all wearing stab vest's and shining lights in our faces. One of them screamed at us too "get down on the fucking floor" so they could search us for weapons. they then very manfully handled us toward one of the waiting policecars and drove us 15 houses away, across the road to the local police station. Oh yeah, I hadn't mentioned that had I? the police station was less than a minutes walk away from the school. In fact we got a good look at it from the top of the school roof

::bernie smacks himself on forehead::

During the questioning they told us that they hadn't spotted us through any paticular dilegence of the theirs i.e. looking through their window. Apparently when my friend broke the skylight it triggered a silent alarm. The police thought a bugulary was in progress and thats why they responded in such a heavy handed way.

After a little questioning they saw (and smelt no doubt) that we were just a couple of drunk morons, so they put is in a room out of the way. After the initial fear had passed we both relaxed a bit. Then about an hour later the worlds scariest policeman came in and started screaming at us in such an aggressive way that I thought he would happily beat the living shit out of us if he could, I thought that because thats what he told us. I still shudder a little even now thinking about him.

Anyway, they kept us in for another couple of hours, but we didn't have to spend the night in a cell and no further action was taken.

Me and my friend have another anecdote about a run in with the police, but I'll save that for the question of the week
"Im glad a crashed the wedding: At the town hall"
(b3rnie c, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 13:24, Reply)

I love teh police, me.
Especially when you add a language barrier, laws you don't understand, a healthy dose of corruption and a culture that you've only known anything about for the last 3 days.

T'was new years day, Koh Chang, Thailand. The night before had contained as much merriment as you could expect on a tropical island with non exsitant licencing laws and fireworks made of pottery. This, lack of sleep and 2 of my mates (one of them's mankydog from the B3ta board, the other's big_treacle, but he's a bit shy) shortly heading back to the UK ensured that we weren't up for doing the same again, so we went to our favourite bar for a couple of beers before crashing out. The bar in question was our favourite mainly due to the owner. He never slept, laughed hysterically at anything you said, insisted on getting you very, very drunk and lived purely off tequilla slammers. Legendary.

As we approached the bar Bo, the slammer addict directed us to a table where 2 thai girls were sat. One was perfoming a quite blatant attempt at skinning up (emptying a cigarette and repacking it). Some local looking guys walked into the bar and had a word with the owner, who directed them to another bar down the beach. A couple of minutes later I take a cig out my packet and put it in my mouth, only to be grabbed from behind by a thai guy telling me he's a policeman and I'm smoking Ganja. Bear in mind that at this point the said thai girl was still making a (now slightly more covert) bad job of skinning up, so no one's smoked anything illegal at this point... given a couple more minutes we blatantly would have. We all tried to convince him it was just a cigarette, but he and his colleagues are quite determined to put the thai girl (who's unfortunately named Pooh), and I in the cells for the night. I got the impression that there might have been a "fine" we could have payed, but with the pay off equalling the equivalent of about £570 per copper, there being four of them and the banks being shut it wasn't really going to happen, so off we trot to the police station.

Woo!

One statement written in Thai (on a typewriter) later and I have an accumulation of filth stood around me demanding I sign. Yeah right, why don't I just walk up to the Bangkok Hilton and ask if they've got any rooms myself to save the pigs the petrol. Several mindgames later I'm still adamant that I'm not going to sign, using words like honour and honesty to emphasize my case. They decide a cell is the place for me. The cell wasn't too bad, that was until they put all the other male occupants from the other cells in mine. Trying to keep words like rape and murder out of my head I tried to get some sleep, but a concrete floor covered in biting ants made it a little tricky.

So morning arrives along with the boss man, the little boss man, the guy from the bar and my english mates. Everything official is being conducted by little boss man (Jiew) in THai, they interview me using Pooh, the girl that can't make joints, as interpreter then isolate me in another room. Jiew comes in and lo and behold can talk fluent english, he gets all the questioning out of the way, then sits staring into my eyes slowly tapping a finger on the desk for what seemed like an eternity before asking "you know Bangkok Hilton?", I replied that I did, to which Jiew promptly told me he thought I should rot there for my crimes. You get the picture. He starts explaining the bail procedure which I don't quite get so he hands me a ringing phone saying "english man... maybe he help you". Assuming I was talking to the embassy I reeled off the story of what had happened so far. The guy on the other end of the phone laughed and told me he was a bartender at the place where all the coppers hung out, but he'd see what he could do. Even asked me to come down for a beer after I got out the police station. Lovely chap was Rob. He spoke to Jiew and after that things were a little easier. Dragging the policeman that had taken me off the beach out of bed to tell him off in front of me might have been a little excesive, but you can't have it all your own way. Lots of other wierd stuff was talked about, england, my job (fixing computers, I couldn't be bothered to explain data over mobile networks), the boss man even came in and asked me to value a bottle of wine (?) at the time I was a stella man, so told him I wouldn't pay more than the value of it's equivalent volume in beer. I think they sussed that I was a waster travelling on a credit card with nothing to my name that wouldn't fit into a backpack. So what do they do? They rip up the statement, and write a new one, this one's more along the lines of "Crazy english man start fight in bar because he drink crazy whiskey" charge me 500 baht (about 7-8 quid at the time) and tell me I'm free to go. As I'm walking out the door wondering what just happened Jiew calls me back in and asks me to take a look at his laptop because it starts up slowly. Not wanting to mar our relationship I quickly disabled all that I could in startup and run away leaving Jiew with a satisfied smirk on his face.

I deffinately needed a beer after all that, it's now evening time and I've had about 2 hours sleep in the last 55ish.

The only thing keeping me very awake is the large amount of adrenaline that's still pumping through me. Lets go and see Rob, the nice man on the phone, he works in a bar.

Rob turned out to be a very nice guy, and we sank a couple of singhas as I told him what had happened after I spoke to him last. At this point he decided to inform me that Jiew the policeman was going to pop in for a couple of drinks, which he shortly does, announcing his presence with a big slap on my back and a shout of "HAHAHAHAHA! No Bangkok Hilton for you!" I bought him drinks all night, lost every game of pool and ended up getting on with him quite well considering. Turns out he used to be part of the tourist police on the Ko San Road. As we parted he gave me his card and a reassuring "If you have any problem, you call to me OK?" err... cheers.

On my way home that night I popped into the bar I'd been dragged out of previously to let the mad tequilla slammer drinking owner know I was OK. All he did was laugh when I turned up... but that was all he did anyway. Pooh and her freind were also there looking a bit downhearted so I stopped for a beer with them.
"what happened to that bag of Ganja, Pooh?"
"I bury in sand when police come"
A short excavation later and the bag is ours, we felt duty bound to cain the lot that night. Halfway through a J a guy with posture too good to be a holiday maker walks in and I feel my hackles rise. He says something to one of the girls, she turns to me and says, "This man soldier from Cambodia... he have very good paper" and shows me a packet of Zig Zag king skins. Brilliant, now we can get truly hammered. Keep the tequilla slammers coming please Bo.

With a sound like a chicken being ripped apart my b3ta cherry is no more... must have been the extreme length.

Girth varies upon stimualtion.

You love teh cock.
(ralphseviltwin, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 12:59, Reply)

Sorry!
I consider myself suitably chastised.
(Bertie Dastard Wax on, wax off, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 12:55, Reply)

Never tell the truth...
Many years ago some friends and I were entertaining ourselves, as was our want, by making a comedy horror film (my mate wished to be - and now is - a filmmaker and we were cast and crew). Returning from "location shooting" at a local gravel pit dripping wet and tired, we retire to my mates house while he pops down the road from some milk.

Cue policemen investigating reports of trespass at local factory. They come upon my hairy mate dressed in old jeans and denim jacket - a likely candidate for drug-crazed juvenile delinquent....

Policeman - "We've had some reports of someone trespassing in the old factory. Have you been near there?"
Mate - "Yes, officer."
Policeman - "And what were you doing?"
Mate - "Making a film about zombies from outer space."
Policeman - "Step into the car please sir....."
( Vulthoom, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 12:49, Reply)

Delinquents
Late summer, we're arsing around at the back of the school like we usually did. Nothing too evil like - mainly just smashing bottles against the school wall until the broken glass piled up high.

This one particular day we came out from the back of the school and there's a couple of rozzers standing there. They told us there'd been some stuff stolen out of the school, and did we know anything about it. We said we didn't (which was true) and just then we spotted a couple of lads from a rival gang going past on their bikes. So we quickly added '...but it might have been them over there.'

We then sat at the bottom of the hill and laughed at these two lads pedalling frantically up the winding road to the estate at the top of it, while this cop car tailed them at low speed all the way up.

It's not there any more. They put the M62 through it.

How old were we?

Seven.
(><(((">, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 12:38, Reply)

The Krankies
Thank you for all the jokes. NOW, when are the police going to look into THAT dirty arrangement......
(AveUseenIT, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 12:36, Reply)

There's a hole in the Nudist Camp Fence.....
...police officers are looking into it.

That one stinks. Sorry.
(AveUseenIT, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 12:34, Reply)

Case of the Stolen Toilets...
...the police were baffled. They had nothing to go on.
(AveUseenIT, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 12:33, Reply)

Bertie Dastard
Lighten up.....Please?

He without sin cast the first stone....
( ogwen69 has returned from Reddit, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 12:22, Reply)

See-saw
Q. Why were there 2 Policeman laying under a see-saw?




A. They'd been tipped off.

God Bless, Dustin Gee.
(AveUseenIT, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 12:15, Reply)

Police humour,
My friend joined the Met police a few years ago, which meant he had to do his training in Hendon and stay in the halls of residence style accommodation. A lot of the guys there used to go home at weekends, but he stayed behind to go out on the lash in the city.

One weekend some friends and he got back from the pub and decided to play a prank on a colleague due to return the following day. They broke into his room, moved all his stuff into one of the lifts and used toilet paper to make the outline of the dead body. They then finished the job off with copious amounts of crime scene tape. Bastards.
(The Duke of Pontefract, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 12:06, Reply)

They came to take me away...
Coincidentially i was in the pub last night (bit worse for wear today) talking to a mate who i havent seen for ages and ages, hes got mental problems so hes in and out of mental homes. Having a lovely chat then two coppers come in and handcuff him and escort him back to the home[the puzzle factory].. the home had reported him missing and had to send the cops out to find him.. hes a mad one my friend...seemed alright last night though...
(Salbo_baggins, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 12:00, Reply)

Dolphins
"Go now," I whispered to the dolphin, who looked happier to be free of his leather restraints. "Impart thyself unto the waves; frolick with thy brothers in the depths of yon briny ether; look back ye not, but look forth and seek that which shalt warm thy soul, for it lies there at the webbed feet of Neptune; find thy mate that thou might sow the seed of thy salty loins in Poseidon's vast and fertile garden, for our work today is done!"

My words were meant to comfort and inspire the creature, though it would surely struggle to pursue my directions in the confines of an indoor pool measuring only thirty feet by sixty, and twenty-five feet in depth.

I had endured a hard day training dolphins for a forthcoming BBC all-animal screen biopic titled 'Prince Philip: Damn Those Chinks!' I was excited about the project. The dolphins had an important scene drawing a carriage containing a pygmy hippo Prince Charles (to be voiced by Gary Cole from Midnight Caller) and a bluefin tuna Lady Diana (voiced by Meera Syal). I had trained the hippo the previous month and, once he had become accustomed to the tweed costumes (which tended to chafe somewhat), he really got into the swing of things. Unfortunately, I was unable to train the tuna (and the koala that was to play the titular role) as it is only in my contract to train aquatic mammals. (As a side note, whoever trained the koala did a sterling job; it achieved the Prince's winning smile perfectly.)

The dolphin squawked a short message to me before swimming to the other side of the pool. I translated the message as, "I love you with all my heart, but there is a policewoman behind you." I did not react at first. Instead I collected my thoughts. Policewoman, eh? This could be fun. I hatched a plan to seduce this woman of the law.

I pulled my trousers to my ankles and unleashed my manhood. I positioned myself at the edge of the pool and was about to pass waste fluids into the water when the female officer leaped forth with a small device in her hand. The apparatus was like a regular pair of handcuffs, but with a third, miniature cuff. She approached swiftly from behind, reaching between my legs to grab my member. She pulled it down between my thighs so that the foreskin rubbed against my anus. I reached behind with both hands to try and break her grip on my bulbous meat, but this was turned to her advantage. She cuffed my hands behind my back and then attached the third, miniature cuff around my shaft. I was left helpless, my hands behind my back and my length pulled tightly between my legs, separating my testes like a fleshy breakwater. I had not expected this to happen.

Laughing, my attacker then shackled my ankles and forced me into the pool where I had to learn to swim without the use of my hands. I picked up a new swimming technique from the dolphins that involved gyrating violently, and this served me well for the eighteen months that I was in there with them. I believe that this time spent living as one of the dolphins has brought us all closer together. I don't feel bitter for what that woman did. In a way she made me a better person. And a better dolphin. Ack! Ack!
(stusut79, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 11:56, Reply)

Don't Talk Back
Got 'picked up by the fuzz' one night (a long long time ago) after engaging in drunken horseplay with a phone box. The guy at the station had to fill in a form so they could put me in a cell for the night.
All went well until we got to the qualifications section (why do they need this information?)
PC: A Levels?
Me: yep.
PC: What in?
Me: Physics.
PC: Ahh, the physics of vandalising phoneboxes?
Me: Err, no.
PC: Any more?
Me: Chemistry.
PC: Ahh, the chemistry of vandalising phoneboxes?
Me: Err, no.
PC: Any more?
Me: Maths.
PC: Ahh, ...
Me: Look, for fucks sake just...
At this point I got a good slapping. Well, I deserved it.
(Fillostein, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 11:50, Reply)

Well then
Back in the days of yore, well, Uni actually, I was blessed with having a very lovely but also accident/incident prone housemate called Joe. He was sweet as pie but frequently pulled stunts that ended up involving visits from the local constabulary.

Take the time he decided to climb out of his upstairs bedroom window with his girlfriend onto the flat roof outside for a romantic star-gazing evening. Cue next door neighbour calling the fuzz and them despatching a flipping helicopter to investigate the so called burglars on the roof.

Another time, same year at Uni, he smashed up his hand and was carted off in an ambulance. About an hour later the front doorbell goes. We are all in the front room enjoying some herbal refreshment and say to Alex, (who gets up to answer door)

"heh heh if it's the cops then cough loudly" thinking theres no way.

He disapears into the hallway in a cloudy haze of smoke and shuts the door.
10 seconds later we hear a mighty coughing fit from said hallway, and all promptly shit pants and start flapping cushions to clear the air (to no avail)

Turns out they didn't enter our lounge drugs den and Alex did a fine job of fending them off. They were investigating as they thought Joe had been domestically abused by us. Nice.
(Sameranda, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 11:43, Reply)

Bastards
I wanted to be a cop for quite a while until I reaslied they are shit and can't tell theyre arse from a criminal.
I lived in a dodgy area of Plymouth whilst at uni. During this time I had my car window smashed, my car stero nicked my housemate was assaulted and we had a psycho kick our door in.
Nothing was done about this at all after it was reported.
Since then I've been caught speeding by a police officer that by his own admission could not be bothered to investigate the death of 2 local girls so he was out catching speeding motorists.

The police in my experience are lazy cunts who do nothing to help students. They are ignorant to peoples lifes and have done nothing to help me, being a person who doesnt even download illegal music, but will help a criminal if he's got a brother in the force.

I didn't always have this view but as far as I can tell its not the system thats wrong it the shite usless police force.
( SiX and his hat, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 11:38, Reply)

So so many....
1) Arrested for theft of condoms at 13: police found it hilarious and made many jokes about the fact they didn't come in "titchy"
2) Wrote off a car (mate's mums) into an OAP's living room at 16: 3 days to find me, but when they did they had a sense of humour about it, only pushing me downstairs once.
3) Tried to jump out of a taxi window to avoid paying fare at 19. Ended up surrounded by Asian black-cab drivers about to beat us when a police car saved us, and escorted us to a cashpoint. Ended up in the cells for a night when I told the wpc she'd be beautiful with a little surgery. But she was a biffer. Woke up the next day with a tattoo on my chest.
4) Drink Driving, 19: Was caught 200yds from home with a brakelight out, with a blood reading of 81 (max allowed is 80). Unfortunately not my car so book was thrown. 2yrs later ended up doing millenium security in Sheffield with the WPC that nicked me, and copped (hoho) off with her!
5) Gatecrasher raid, aged 20odd: had 200 pills on me. Stuck them in my pants as lights came on. Was very lucky to escape - very inefficient searching.
6)Arrested for theft from work (although innocent) - brutal interview, charges brought, then dropped when my manager confessed to borrowing cash out of the till on Thursdays to go dog racing with, then paying it back on Friday when paid. Stock check caught him unawares! I never even got an apology.
7) Creamfields: Off tits; photo exists of me wearing a policemans helmet cuddling a butch copper with a beard.
8) Arrested on way home from creamfields at a service station for humourously stealing a 3ft steel bin from the foyer, along with 3 teapots and 50 bags of sugar.
9) Driving home only to be stopped at gunpoint by an armed response unit, as my mate and I were in a car similar to one they were looking for. Wearing tights on our head thinking "Will we get pulled if we do this for a laugh?" was a perfect example of bad timing.
10) Police saw my friend and I breaking into a car (clumsily). It was ours, but they didn't know this. Rather than investigate this properly thay simply gave us a demonstration of how to get into a fiesta in 20 seconds.

Many more, but I don't want to make this any more unreadable. Also, for the sanctimonious wankers who insist on preaching about drink/drug driving: Of course it's wrong, but this is a fun website, not a place for warning people about how you disapprove of their behaviour. I hope you all get run over by drink/drug drivers, simply for being such twats.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Fri 23 Sep 2005, 11:33, Reply)

Stag night
It was my stag night in Sheffield on a freezing February night, we'd had plenty of booze and were looking for a restaurant to warm up in with a nice hot Indian curry.

We get to the top of Fargate (a pedestrian precinct) when I notice my mates gathering around. I'd let my guard drop thinking nothing was going to happen by this time.

I get picked up and one-two-three swung straight into the ice-cold fountain that's now no longer there.

A police van comes screaming up and I shout "Officers, arrest these men!", a copper says "What's going on here?" to which a mate replies "It's his stag night", gets a not-in-the-least-bothered "Carry on lads" and they drive off!

That was it. Bastards. Mates and coppers alike.
( Father_Ted Drink!, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 11:22, Reply)

Not *strictly* to do with the rozzers, but...
When I were a sprat knee high to a grasshopper (This would be roughly 15 years back) my family decided it would be a capitol idea to go on holiday to Malta and visit family. Me being like most other hyperactive 4 year olds, (later diagnosed with ADHD! Wahoo!) I was not to be without my beloved peanuts books and toys. One such toy was a small sandwich box filled with plastiscine.

Upon checking in our stow-away luggage and doing the usual at Heathrow, we proceeded unto the carry-on x-ray scanner. Now, my father (who shall remain nameless) being the light-hearted, jovial chap that he is, has struck up a conversation with the airport staff operating the scanner, and all is going well, smiles and laughter on both sides. Until my bag goes through.

Spotting something awry in my bag, the box of plasticine is produced. "What's this?", enquires the hapless employee. "That?" replies dear old dad, "Semtex."

You have *never* seen the smiles fade off airport staff so quickly.

Apparantly after a bit of huffing, puffing and wrist-slapping, we made it to Malta, and a good time was had by all.

Moral of the story? There is a time and a place to be funny, dad. Thankfully, you got them both spot-on, and we shall never let you forget it!

-Squidge out-
(Squidge, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 11:09, Reply)

Polite Notice
For all the people who commit vehicle offences, whether they are caught or get away with it – speeding, drunk driving, drug driving etc…

YOU CUNTS.

It is definitely not big and not clever.

Driving a car is like walking round with a loaded gun – lethal.

Just had to get that off my chest.
(Bertie Dastard Wax on, wax off, Fri 23 Sep 2005, 11:05, Reply)