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Sitting in my local pub late one night enjoying the landlord's flexible idea of what constitutes his licencing hours, a bunch of drunk blokes in raincoats burst in. Requesting to be served, one shouted at the barman "It's alright - we're not coppers!"
They were spitting images of Lt. Columbo to a man. The barman laughed them out of the pub.
( , Thu 22 Sep 2005, 10:12)
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In St Ives (Cambs) they police station is in Pig Lane. No honest, it is. To get over the embarrasment, they actually have had their driveway given a name by the council, so they don't have to use the old one.
Now some years ago, I was out with my little girl at the playground. Sitting on the roundabout, going round very slowly was a dirty perv having a wank in full view. I whisked my daughter away and called the police. They finally arrived at my house 3pm the following afternoon. I was less than polite and sugested that maybe, just maybe he may have actually gone by now. He turned away to leave and came back to issue me with a ticket for no tax disk on an old car I had just pushed out of the drive to be taken to the scrap yard. Cunts cunts cunts cunts CUNTS!! Then a couple on months ago, I had a minor bump where someone hit me up the arse. The police turned out and when they ask for my documents, I didn't have them. They issued me with a production of documents ticket and asked me where I would like to present them. "Pig Lane, St Ives" I answered. He kept me there for another 25 mins while they searched my car. Cunts.
(Fucking bastard maggot wanking cunts.)
( , Fri 23 Sep 2005, 14:59, Reply)
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