The world's crappest gang fight?
Some of you possibly aren't old enough to remember C.B. (citizen's band) radio. A bit like the internet of its day; lots of strangers talking shit to each other and serving very little pratical purpose. It was for a while very popular. The events below took place in about 92/93. C.B. was fairly out-dated even then, but still had a loyal following amoungst certain types.

My friend P. was a bit of a tech-nerd and so had a radio rigged up in his car. One thursday night, with nothing better to do, we went for a drive and ended up at a scenic car park/viewpoint in Reigate Hill, about 10 miles from where we lived. Anyone who knows the M25/Surrey towns areas will know that this place is hardly South Central L.A.

So anyway, there we were in this car park, somking a few ciggies, and sipping some whisky. (Obviously P. wasn't drinking, being the driver.) Just being mellow and talking bollocks about girls, films and all the usual. P. puts on the C.B. to see if the locals have anything interesting to say. Flicking around the channels we come across some very busy exchanges, lots of people talking about "the meet" as well as people calling each other all sorts of names. The signals were local and getting stronger. These chaps who were all threatining violence upon each other were obviously mobile, and getting nearer.

I found the thought of conflict between rival C.B. gangs quite amusing. The West Side Breakers Vs the East Side (of Reigate)Aerials?
Not exactly the Bloods and the Crips.

Suddenly about eight cars skidded dramatically into the car park from both entrances, meeting in a circle in the middle. About twenty fellas got out and started scrapping. The C.B. rivals had chosen our quiet location to settle their differences. The fighting was pathetic. A missed kick followed by running away, a swing that misses by miles leaving the guy who throws it facing the wrong way etc., real playground stuff. P. and I watched trying to stifle our laughter.

A white Ford Cortina (those were the days) sped into the car park and the driver jumped out, his right arm in the air.

"Gun!" someone shouted.

Fuck, this made things a little more serious. The combatants scattered and cars sped in every direction. The gunman's white Cortina reversed quickly, its engine screaming and stopped directly behind P's Maestro, boxing us in. The driver looked at us. As dodgy as this situation had turned, I was still amused by the comic display of gang violence we had witnessed and had trouble taking it all seriously. I spoke to P.

"Quick. Fellate me. He'll think we're just a pair of fruits having a little fun."

P., being a more serious kinda chap than me, didn't find my suggestion funny and just sat in his seat turning more and more pale.

After 20 or 30 seconds Cortina Gunboy realised we were nothing to do with the fight and drove off leaving us.

We drove round scanning the airwaves, the word on the C.B. was that it was just a starter pistol.

Fucking anoraks.

Still, an interesting night out.

Sorry for the long read.
( sir_spicious2000 Crap I've watched: www.filmplop.blogspot.com/, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 20:42, 3 replies)

Got one
About 4 years ago my car was hit by a truck; I was at home, it was parked correctly, the driver hit me, looked and drove off. One witness was an off duty special constable who took details etc. I went to my local nick to report the incident...and guess who has to prove his fuckin car is taxed and insured and MOT'd ? ME! The Victim. The officer was very apologetic, but really, why do I need to prove anything about My vehicle ? If I report a murder, do I need to show a passport first ?

(I do have a lot of time and support for th ePolice, but sometimes...)
(kitescreech still here, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 20:33, Reply)

I was burgled once...
Ok didn't witness it but it was quite funny as me and my sister who shared the house didn't realise until an hour after we got home. We lived in a big house in Manchester that we rented off her then boyfriend and lots of students nearby so when we left a window open and a long ladder in the back yard, the junkies who robbed us must of thought it was their lucky day. Unfortunatly instead of lots of computers and tv's and other student paraphanalia they just ended up with a dvd player, (that was broken). The only reason we realised we had been visited was because there was an old biscuit tin open on my bed that contained loads of cheap crap jewellery I had. We owned very little as we were 'living it large',(I think the phrase is), at the time so all our money went on nights out.

Still got rid of the ladder after that though.
( girlinthehole, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 20:32, 3 replies)

Kicked to the ground on a fine Summer evening
This was back in 2002. I was walking home one night when suddenly on the other side of the street I heard shouting. I looked round and saw a man aged in his 30's running along with a young kid ( his son? ) close behind him. He reached a man aged in his 40's and with just one swipe of his leg had him down on the ground and started repeatedly kicking him in the body and the face.
I was naturally very shocked. But before I'd had the chance to decide what ( if anything ) to do, he stopped, and started running away with the kid close on his heels. The victim started rising slowly but at that same moment the attacker ( who had a stereotypically criminal appearance ) suddenly burst out swearing and ran back to the man again, knocking him to the ground and viciously kicking him in the face and mouth. I stood, watching from across the street, flabbergasted, until he eventually stopped and ran away with the kid, this time for good. Meanwhile the victim got up, very slowly and painfully, with blood streaming from his mouth. I wondered whether I ought to offer him assistance of any kind, but he disappeared out of sight very quickly.
I don't know whether I should have called the police the moment I first saw it happening. Or even gone to the police station and reported it afterwards. I suppose I decided it would be up to the victim to do that if he felt it seemed appropriate. This was an example of witnessing something and not knowing whether to intervene or simply let the situation be.
I can only speculate about what could have caused the attacker to commit the crime. Perhaps it could have been the result of a vendetta of some kind. Or, assuming that the kid was the son of the attacker, it's possible that the victim could ( perhaps previously ) have been nasty to him in some way.
Whatever the cause, what an absolutely disgraceful example the attacker was setting for the young boy!
(Gandalf, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 20:18, Reply)

Hit and Run
I saw my sister get hit by a BMW driver who cut her up as she was cycling along the road in front of me.

The bastard drove off, didn't bother to see if she was OK or anything. (She was.)

Another passing motorist stopped to let us know he had the number plate if we wanted to go to the police. My sister turned him down.

Why?

She says she felt her pedal scrape along the side of his lovely highly polished and relatively new car, and showed me the blue paint mark to back this up.

Bit too close for comfort that.
(Captain Skippy pooed in a bag and left it on your doorstep, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 19:45, Reply)

Oh, various times...
Working in a big brand electrical store (fuck it, it was Currys) we had relatively regular thefts.

The best one was when Dave, the new boy, set up a big ass wide screen telly and DVD player at the front of the store as some kind of promotional tool. They were relatively new and he had hoped to woo punters with the cathode ray tubie goodness.

Half an hour later I walked round, and it was gone. "Dave..." I said "didn't the manager like your display?"

"He loved it," he told me.

"Then where's it gone?"

We watched the action back on the security camera. Some bald bastard walked into the store, picked the telly up, and walked out. He didn't bother to unplug it or anything, he just let the cables snap behind him.

Dave apparently hadn't bothered to set up an alarm, because "who would nick a wide screen telly from the front of a store?"

So not so much witnessed, but we saw the video.
(Captain Skippy pooed in a bag and left it on your doorstep, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 19:40, Reply)

pssst
I have no idea why I chose to go to sunderland university, but I did. silly, really.
Anyway, in my third year I was living near a trippy hippy shop. Coming back after an evening lecture, there was someone mooching around the doorway. I got to my door, put the key in and was just about to turn it when I heard a, "Pssst!" "Oh, leave me alone," I thought, and carried on, but there came another, more insistent, "Pssssst!"
I went over to see what this chap wanted and near recoiled in horror. He had a spider's web tattoo across half his face - classy! - and at most two blackened stumps in his mouth.
"Oi, mate, is this shop anything to do with you," he drooled. "No," said I. "That's all right, then," he continued, "cos I'm just about to rob it." "Oh," was my stunned response. "Yeah, I've already got the glass out and I'm waiting for the coast to clear." "Nope, nothing to do with me," I said, and wished him good luck in his venture.
Sure enough, the next morning there was a sign in the shop window saying it was closed due to a break-in.
Good god, his haul must have amounted to a few bongs, pipes and seeds. Hardly worth it.
I felt a small twinge of guilt about not reporting it, but hell, he knew where I lived.

"pop" etc...
( nightbuffalo needs more duct tape, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 19:36, 1 reply)

2 Am
Lying in bed one Friday night, thinking about how much insomnia sucks, I heard voices from the car park outside.
Since the local yoof had taken to casual vandalism of late I had a pretty good idea what I would see when I looked through the curtains.
Yep. There they were, about five of the local scrotes clustered around the bonnet of my father's car, trying to prise off the badge.
Now as to why they wanted a Citroen badge I have no idea. Why do they wear those stupid sideways hats and listen to music that sounds like cutlery in a washing machine? Beats me.
Anyway I flung open my window and bellowed "Piss off out of it yer little bastards" and they scattered like cockroaches.
Now this is where I did something very, very silly.
It occurred to me that they might be hiding round the corner and come back to lob a brick through my window so I armed myself with a baseball bat, pulled on my slippers and went for a bit of a wander.
Did I mention that it was November? And that I was only wearing a t-shirt and trackies?
Ten minutes later I'd scuttled back home, absofuckinglutely freezing and proceeded to have a minor panic attack when I realised exactly how much trouble I could have got myself into.
I've had a go at being a vigilante. It wasn't very clever. and I froze my knackers off
(Big D, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 18:52, Reply)

axe..
I have a friend who moved to scotland about 4-5 years ago, and comes back to visit once a year or so.
We were happily strolling to the pub with a couple behind us, when suddenly a red van pulled up beside us and a man runs out of the van wielding a hand axe, running at the couple. Now i don't think anyone actually got chopped, as we decided to pick up the pace and not look back. but i did almost shit my knickers for a second.
(jangaaaal shes lost control..., Sun 17 Feb 2008, 17:16, Reply)

Grand Theft ...erm... lamp
I'm useless in an emergency.

Years ago whilst pootling around a large DIY store I was almost spun off my feet by three baseball-capped tracksuits, laden with an assortment of bedside lamps and bombing for the exit.

The speed with which they were departing, plug and flex flailing wildly behind them, told me there was a distinct possibility that a theft was in progress. They didn't even have a carrier bag!

Immediately I entered vigilante mode, threw my shoulders back, puffed out my chest just like superheroes are supposed to do and prepared to give chase.

This was MY moment! Oh yes!

My plan changed somewhat as several wheezing security guards came scrabbling down the aisles, for as they neared the exit I found myself incapable of doing anything more than feebly waggling a delicate little finger in the direction of the long departed shoplifters and in the tiniest of voices I uttered "They went that way..."
(Peek_a_Boo forgot how fun B3ta was until, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 16:35, Reply)

Wendy
Many years ago when I started out working for newspapers I had a colleague called Wendy who, though fantastic at her job, could be as blonde as they come at times.

One summer day she came in all excitable:

W: Hey guys guess what I've just seen

Me: Dunno, what?

W: A car going about 60 on the wrong side of Eddleston road. It had four guys in and they were all wearing balaclavas!

Me: Oh aye, that'll be because *local posh jewellers* has just been raided by some nice men waving shotguns around.

W: It's been robbed? You know I thought it was a bit hot to be wearing balaclavas




She was being serious as well.
(Heyzeus, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 16:32, 1 reply)

Dunno if this counts as witnessing a crime
but a couple of years back while working in Farringdon, I popped out to get some sandwiches and saw a lady in a very posh green car (BMW or Merc) being blocked in by a number of squad cars, then they dragged her away, kicking and screaming. Never found out what it was all about.

I suppose I also witnessed a crime in that same sandwich shop - one day while I was in there a bunch of large Italian men in sharp suits came in and started abusing and slapping around the staff. It was like I'd stepped into a mafia movie or something. I kept my head down and got out of there sharpish.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 15:36, 2 replies)

out walking one night
with a couple of other people, we saw a huge guy having an argument with presumably his girlfriend. He chased her across the road, towards us, she fell...we told him to stop. He said he was going to count to 3 and on 3 he'd bash us. There was no question that he would've beaten us in a fight. We stood there until he got to three, and just before three said 'ok, ok' and went off.

I think we stopped him beating her at least.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 15:04, Reply)

making a hash of a robbery.....
Amsterdam. Well somewhere outside Amsterdam, no real clue where. After a hefty day dancing in the Dutch sun at Dance Valley (a rather insane techno festival populated with rather insane, drugged-up techno fans from across Europe) back in 1997.

To get there seemed to involve a train and several buses. Now in the morning this is fine, but after a long, hot, drug-addled day, one's capacity for rational, coherent thought is somewhat diminished.

So there we found ourselves in the Dutch countryside in the middle of the night with pockets- and heads full of drugs trying to figure out which is the right mode of transport to take us back into sweet 'damnation.

I was approached by a guy of Moroccan origin and pressed to buy some hash from him. For ridiculous prices. I laughed and reminded him that it was actually for sale in a number of venues across the city. Further I had a stash already.

He proceeded to pull out the most pathetic looking knife i had ever seen and again told me to buy his hash. My laughter seemed to further agrivate him and he then demanded my wallet and drugs.

By this point it was no good; i had the giggles and just couldn't take him seriously. My mate's girlfriend appeared, and seeing I was in no state to do anything, promtly told him where to stick his hash.

It was only after he had scuttled away into the crowd that i fully realised i had just mocked a knife wielding thug with a head full of drugs.

Earlier that day we had attempted to deposit our bags in the lockers in Central Station to collect later. I had flung open the door on one sizeable locker only to be greeeted by a woman smoking crack, mid-drag. She looked up with lighter in hand. In true British style I smiled, apologised for disturbing her and closed the door.

Amsterdam; ya gotta love it...
(thebigcheese thebigcheese, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 14:42, Reply)

My partner's a bit of a have-a-go hero
Valentine's Day - 2005. We're going home, the pubs are just shutting, and our attention is attracted to an altercation.

There's a man and woman fighting, and the bloke in question then gives the woman an almighty punch. My man goes up to him, positions himself between the bloke and this now hysterical woman. I try to talk to the woman. Only for both of us to be screamed at and my bloke near slapped by the woman to leave the man who slapped her alone.

We left them to it in the end.
(witty_ditty has made multiple miaows since, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 12:54, 3 replies)

I saw an armed robbery taking place a few years ago,
and honestly, it was great. Just like something out of the Sweeney, 2 cars rammed into jeweller's shops, guys in overalls piled out with sledgehammers and shotguns, and piled out again with loads of gear.
Absolutely fucking awesome.
(Bear Pookie The Frankly Challenged. Halloween is coming to town., Sun 17 Feb 2008, 12:21, Reply)

Looked nasty - looked the other way
I was on my way to a wedding reception in the Bromley area a few years back when I passed a side street and a commotion caught my eye. Two girls and three guys squaring up for a fight of some description. Normally I would have stayed and watched at least, if not tried to break it up but we were running a bit late and my (first) wife dragged me off before I could react. As I was dragged off up the street I noticed one of the lads pulling a nasty looking knife. It must have been quite big cos I could see it from 50 yards away. The artist formally known as Mrs Steve increased her dragging speed and soon we were gone.
There was nothing in the papers about it over the next few days, so I guess it ended without anything nasty happening, but still feel bad about not getting involved.
(Mr Steve is jobless and fancyfree!, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 11:39, Reply)

there's a gang in my area
who've been going around stealing hearts.


(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 5:15, 5 replies)

Throughout secondary school...
I have seen fights between students. Last time I checked, assault was illegal. It's amazing how much shit that would get you locked up in the real world will only get you a suspension at most in school.
(SpiffyBalak, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 3:34, 1 reply)

Witnesses an attempted mugging
Everyon in b3ta seems to have been almost mugged, its spooky.
I was going through Paisley train station late one night when a fella asks me for "50p fer the train mate..." as they often do, I started to blank out what he was saying and tapped my pocket saying I had no change.
Of course as I tap my pocket the change in my pocket clangs together.
"whats that then?"
"My taxi fare"
"give me that then"
"er no"
I see him pointing his finger through his jacket pocket.
"I've got a knife mate, just gimmie the money"
"have you fuck mate"
Then he kinda pauses and a slow motion moment happens, like you get when sober and you're all jacked up on adrenaline from expecting a junkie of trying to mug you.
He goes to punch me, I'm holding a bag in each hand, what do I do? quater of a second later my forehead is squishing his nose into his face.
One junkie on his arse with a busted face gibbering about how he was sorry and how he "didnae ken who I was". I walk off sharpish in shock and hoping that I wouldn't piss my pants or have a junkie with a real knife following me.
I went into a local kebab shop to clean the blood of my face and upon telling them of my junkie slaying was given a free portion of chips.

Not sure if technically I was the one that commited a crime as I assualted him then left him.
( Laird Dave Draws Now charges to take off his clothes., Sun 17 Feb 2008, 1:15, 3 replies)

Quick whinge
I fucking laugh at Britains laws sometimes. I could theoretically walk down the road and mug a granny, stealing £50. The Police catch me, give me a suspended sentence, charge me something like a £200 fine and to pay the £50 back.

But if that granny gets a dog for protection and takes it to a public park and it happens to play the "turdular pipes", she would be fined upto £1000. So do we value the safety of a granny over the laying of a dog turd? Do we fuck.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Sun 17 Feb 2008, 0:31, 2 replies)

it was in portugal
it was late at night. i was in a park and i saw a couple killing their daughter with a spade and then burying her under a tree.
i think they still pretend to be looking for her.
/hull
( Zhmei HEY B3TA I WAS ON YOUR DINGY ISLAND AT LAST!1!, Sat 16 Feb 2008, 23:49, 7 replies)

MURDER! BASEMENTS! FOXES!
Some time around September 2 years ago I had just moved to St.Pauls in Bristol... a slightly rough area (well, it was knives rather than guns), but it was cheap and we were living in a Withnail-style 4 storey georgian mansion for £bugger all a month.
On the whole it was great, but there were a few unnerving moments during the year we lived there, but there were a couple that stuck in my mind...

my bedroom was in the basement, cold and damp with a large window beneath street level- outside of this window was a... how to describe it? a concrete subterranean balcony i suppose- which at night managed to amplify the assorted light screaming/ hellish cackles (crackles maybe?) of the crackheads who emerged from the shadows at about 1am. the acoustics meant it was like the screaming was INSIDE my room. especially the time I was woken up by an attempted rape in the garden opposite. the attacker even said, and I swear to god, " well if you don't have the money, you'll have to pay me some other way". I didn't know people actually said that. that's just a standard post-watershed ITV 'depraved mobster #3' line, isn't it?

so. the morning in question I remember waking to the crowing of the neighbourhood cockerel (yes. there was a cockerel somewhere in St.Pauls), then ambling upstairs to the first floor living room with a cup of tea to see about rolling a fag and finding the remote... when through the window I espied what must have been 20 white boiler suited coppers doing an eerily silent minute-detail search of my street where 100 yards either side of my house had been cordoned off.

there wasn't a body, but figured it must have been a murder with all the forensic folks and there may have been hideous still-wet pools of blood and 'help me oh god why won't you help me?' written in entrails... but I may have just made that up. anyway.
so I did what anyone else would do- woke everyone up, switched on every radio, computer, TV and internet receiving implement in the house to find out what was happening, and found out that some guy was quietly stabbed next to our corner shop. the thing was that we had been out that previous night, and we later found that minutes before we had closed the front door behind us (I remember looking at the time on my phone), the poor soul had been violently pushed off this mortal coil. it was made more poignant, however, that we had been spitting (as I believe the kids say) Beastie Boys lyrics quite loudly... throwing the hip-hoppin' arm shapes (oh god) and had been doing this all down the road.

I can only hope to god that as this man was being brutally slain, he didn't see the whitest, geekiest students in Bristol silhouetted against the clear night sky with me reciting 'get it together' word for word, carrying my high heels and maybe a kebab and not seeing a fucking thing.

there was a stabbing nearly every week after that for a little while... (not all fatal and all dealers I'm told. which apparantly doesn't warrant much media coverage). who knows what it was all about, but we soon got pretty jaded and only noticed because the corner shop would be closed and we'd have to go to the one further up on the main road.

the only time we ever actually stopped to notice anything was when one of the dealers we had seen a lot came up to my housemate looking a bit shifty and said something inaudible yet threatening; but my dear housemate (I shall call him Jamie, as I regularly do) looked straight over his shoulder, cried 'look! a fox!' waving his pointed finger with toddler-like enthusiasm. the 5 or so resident crack dealers on the corner then all started talking with similar enthusiasm about how "that was a big fox for 'round here" and "I've seen a few of em recently" etc. Jamie then ran in to tell the household about the fox sighting and so possibly avoided a mugging.
it makes you wonder..... are they dealers and crackheads? or do they have 'i-spy' wildlife or Bill Oddie books in their coats. maybe they're just aspiring misunderstood naturalists. in my world they are...

I'm off to re-lurk now.
in a far less stabby neighbourhood.
(missmissy, Sat 16 Feb 2008, 23:29, 6 replies)

Wasn't very interesting
Saw a tramp having a shit in an entry.
(mingeswingers, Sat 16 Feb 2008, 23:06, Reply)

Hooray for Animal rescues!!!!
Many years ago, I moved to a quiet little seaside town where there is no sea. (if you know Southport, Lancashire you'll understand)

There was me, MadBouncyWife and her two dogs that had both come from animal rescues.

One night whilst we were asleep we awoke to the sound of barking dogs and a crash. Now the dogs were in the bedroom with us and the door was closed. So being the big brave guy that I am I opened the door and let the dogs go first. They chased off down the hall to the living room and I heard nothing more execpt a low growling from our Alsation (did I mention he was a big one too??)

So I entered the living room and flicked on the light to be confronted with a young man out of his face on... Well whatever he was out of his face on and my Alsation standing two feet away from him teeth beared growling. Not biting, attacking, or anything naughty.

"What the fuck are you doing in my flat?" Said I.

"Call yer dog off will ya" he replied.
"like fuck I will"
"Where's Jenny?" The scrote asked?
"???" Said I.

Anyway, the upshot was that he was looking for his ex girlfriend who had lived there before us and broken in though a boarded up patio window to try and 'make up' with her. I wonder why she left him?

I made the guy crawl back through the hole he had made, and only as an afterthought phoned the police in case he was a VERY good actor, wasn't really off his face but was casing the flat to return later.

It turns out that the Alsation that came from the animal rescue had previously belonged to a lorry driver who tied him under his parked lorry every night to guard it and otherwise generally mistreated him, but he had been attack trained. I never knew despite living with him for months prior to this incident.

He went on to live to the ripe old age of 13, and spent his last morning lying in the sun under our apple tree. He was great with both our children that came along after him and from that night I never had any worries about somebody trying to break into our property.

I really miss that dog.



Length: 13 years
(MadBouncyDog Barking at the moon since, Sat 16 Feb 2008, 22:59, 5 replies)

Not entirely on topic and not my story, but I shall tell it anyway
One of my friends from school - Alex - is rather fond of this tale and I shall attempt to do it justice. I will probably fail.

A couple of years back, when we had rather a lot of unexpected snow (unexpected because it was March) our school got a couple of days off on account of the buses not being able to get through it all. As is a teenagers wont, Alex got together with some of his friends and made his way to the park. As they were jogging along, a man of about 40 started running alongside them. They all started giving him quizzical looks until Alex ran up next to him and asked him what he was doing.

I imagine the conversation went something like this.
Alex: Erm, what are you doing?
Man: So, which one of you was it?
Alex: Eh?
Man: Which one of you did it?
Alex: Did what?
Man: Just tell me who it was.
Alex: I don't know what you're talking about!
Man: ...shit.

The bloke then decides to turn around and run in the opposite direction, with no explanation.

First post in a long time. And it was rubbish.
(littlenipple hate's bad grammar, Sat 16 Feb 2008, 22:38, Reply)

Ambulance.
Years ago, I moved into a new house. I was living quietly in a small cul-de-sac, going to work for long hours and coming home late and therefore, I didn't know many of the residents well.
I had noticed the woman across the road was pregnant though.
Late one night, I was woken by something. I peek through the curtains and across the road is an ambulance. The house is well lit up and there are people in and out of the door.
"Oh dear" I think, "I hope the baby / mother are OK".
Back to bed.
About three days later, I'm woken again. Much more noise this time. Woman screaming in the street, Police arrive, more shouting. Loads of grief.
Another couple of days later, I make discreet enquiries about "the troubles" and find out the people across the road had returned from holiday to find a very empty house.
The "ambulance" I saw was one of those old auctioned off jobbies.
Ideal for filling with burgled goods, no questions asked.
I thought about letting people know but.....
I didn't want to be known as "That bloke across the road who say all our worldly goods being nicked and never said anything".
20 tears later, .........Still saying nothing!

Ian.

Length? About 16 feet.
( Unklian Lives in the only country where "Glass" is a verb., Sat 16 Feb 2008, 21:51, 1 reply)

This is my brother's story...
A few years ago when my family was still council estate scum, my brother was lucky enough to be bought a brand new racing bike for his birthday.

Now, my brother loved like that more than a human should love a method of transportation, and more often than not he'd be either riding, cleaning, or fixing his two-wheeled, pedal-driven wonder.

Anyway, one day, my bro is walking back from school (they didn't have bike sheds and he didn't want to risk a TWOC-ing) when what should he see but some kid riding HIS bike up the main road towards the shops our kid had just departed from.

Of course, my bro wasn't too pleased about that, and at once legged it towards the approaching youth and questioned why he was riding his pride and joy:

Youth: "I'm borrowing it to do my paper round"
Our Kid: "I don't think so, give it back"
Youth: "Piss off or I'll kick your head in"

It was at that point that my bro shouted for help, and luckily enough there was a bit of a bruiser walking past who came over to assist...

Bruiser: "Give him his bike back"
Youth: "It's OK, I'm his brother, I'm only borrowing it"
Our Kid: "No he isn't, he's nicked it"
Bruiser (seeing our kid starting to cry): "Give him his fucking bike back or I'll do something you'll regret"
Youth (laughing at the whole situation): "Honest mate, I'm his big bro" (turning to youth) "Aren't I?"
Our Kid (now in floods of tears): "No, you're not, I want my bike back"

At this point the youth is shoved off the bike by the bruiser, my tearful brother gets his little friend back and witnesses the bruiser giving the youth a bit of a slap as a form of vigilante action.

So, justice done, you might think.

Well, hang on.

Firstly, the bike 'theft' wasn't the crime.

Why?

Because it was me on the bike.

Yes, my brother pretended to some stranger that I nicked his bike (which I was genuinely borrowing to do my paper round on), and to top it off witnessed the bloke giving me what would warrant Actual Bodily Harm in a court of law.

The aftermath?

I kicked the shit out of my brother when I got back after my paper round. After I told my mum (yes, she of the wardrobe out of the window post), he got a bit of a hiding off her too.

Harsh, but fair, no?
(scentless_apprentice takes two bottles into the shower!, Sat 16 Feb 2008, 21:50, 4 replies)

Crimes......
hmmmmm, where to start?

I was once the victim of a random assault, when 17, and on my way to my evening job I was waiting patiently for one of those poverty wagon things to come, when a shitty old piece of crap Renault drives past. Then it comes back, and the passenger gets out. 'he's lost' I thought in my naively innocent way. 'What you fuckin lookin at?' at this point as I was aware he didn't want directions to Dinnington.After some more witty banter (You was staring at us you cunt' Me 'No I have better things to look at!') which looking back may have led to the next part, his fist going straight into my face, and then as he knocked me down, his knee going into my stomach, and him running off to this heap o shit renault and speedin off. leavin me on the floor in a poverty wagon shelter.
(Lord Monkey of Yorkshire,OBE killed a gipsy on...., Sat 16 Feb 2008, 20:34, Reply)

a local shepherd
was convicted of ram raiding.

And posession of a baaaaaned substance.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 16 Feb 2008, 20:00, 1 reply)