One Friday night, on the last train home...
I stepped in to prevent one suited, middle-aged commuter stealing an iPod from a slightly inebriated younger man.
The would-be thief went for me. A scuffle ensued, the train was stopped, and all the men present swung wildly and inaccurately at each other.

I couldn't sit and watch someone be robbed without trying to do something, but was left feeling that it hadn't been worth the bother. The idiot drunk wasn't grateful in the slightest, and the cünt in the suit had tried to punch me, a girl.

Train driver didn't give a toss about the mass brawl, and everyone got off to avoid the police. All for a nano.

But once I'd stopped shaking, I felt a little bit proud.
(mingping, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 13:06, 1 reply)

Plod
Slightly off topic but involves the police and a near crime.
To set the Scene it's new year 2007. There is a big gang of us out in my local and 2 of the reprobates out are L and M (a recently trained po-lice officer). As nights go we were having a good laugh and drinking a fair few beers and who should be in the bar but L's ex missus, who he's not quite over yet, so L proceeds to get a bit drunk but not really causing trouble.

As the night goes on he goes to say happy new year to the ex and stumbles against a table, 1 lad starts giving him aggro and L apologises, followed up with more aggro from laddo.
Laddo in question then says to L 'do you know who I am?'
L then replies with the immortal phrase 'I couldn't give a fuck if you were Mike Tyson, I'd still knock you out'
L is like a streak of piss in terms of build

Laddo's large mate then gets up so now it's 2 on one...

While all this is happening I'm chatting away to a mates sis so have no idea what's going on but when i walk back L's great mate M (just trained copper) has L pinned against the wall with dumb and dumber standing behind him about to give the pair of them a kicking!

I wander over and start talking to dumb and dumber, get an idea of whats happened while Hott Fuzz still has L pinned to the wall and then decide to say scrapper 1 and 2:
'hey lads it's new year so lets have a good time, besides if you start on them then I'm going to have to get involved and that means I'll get hit and I hate getting hit'

For some reason this seemed to work, both lads chilled shook L's hand (after M had released him) and off they fucked.

I'd like to think I stopped a fight with my wit and charm but don't think that is the case...

So it was a sort of crime (public aggravation I suppose) and it did involve the (off duty) police.
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 12:36, Reply)

Griffin Close #4: This Wheel's on Fire
As a PG supervisor, I would find myself on duty a couple of nights a month on average. This meant a liability to be woken by security should anything interesting happen, or should freshers turn up from a club at 3am having lost their front door keys. In return for reduced rent, this was an easy job.

Just outside my window was a parking area. After at least two of my duty nights, I awoke in the morning to find a burnt-out chassis there. I often wonder whether I ought to have been more attentive to my responsibilities... before deciding that a nice deep and dreamless sleep is invariably a much better option.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 12:24, 7 replies)

Two curious stories
My friend J was walking home from a night out in Glasgow with us one new year's eve. He was chatting away on the old mobile phone when someone ran across from the other side of the road, grabbed the phone annd scarpered. J was a bit pissed off, obviously but figured that it's just a phone, insurance will pay for a new one etc, so we keep on walking. Next thing we know, the same little fucker comes running back to the group of us, and gives J his phone back, the runs off again... Go figure.

Right down at the other end of the Isles (I wasn't there to witness this one....so technically doesn't count), my friend D was asked by a friendly looking chap what the time was. Not having a watch, he checked his mobile phone, which was promptly snatched by the aforementioned fella. But this guy didn't run off, he just walked away. Normally, D wouldn't confront anyone, but the barefaced cheek of this guy got under his skin, so followed him, demanding his phone back, but the thief wouldn't oblige. So D ripped this guy's backpack right off his back and runs for it.

There wasn't anything of value particularly in the bag, just a folder with some drawings in and a few stinky grots - seeme like the assailant was a student too, and an art one at that....
( BlueHaze Chutney. All good., Tue 19 Feb 2008, 12:08, Reply)

One random night
when I was a younger lad, my friend and I were waiting to meet an aquaintance by the roadside.

After a couple of minutes waiting, we heard a loud noise, and looked round to see the back door of the petrol station across the road fly open, and three balaclava'd men charge out and leg it down the road. Being teenagers and therefore under the influence of alcohol and other cheeky substances it took a while the implications of this to sink in, and it wasn't until we saw the cashier lock up the place and the police arrive that we confirmed to ourselves that we'd just seen the place get robbed.

Us being us, of course, we found this highly amusing and when the person we were waiting for turned up, she was greeted with me and my mate standing there with huge grins, excitedly babbling "We just saw that place get robbed! It was great!"

Every time I pass that petrol station now, I smile to myself at the memory of it.
(Uncle Comrade, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 12:06, Reply)

Witnessed? Not first hand…Crime? Not strictly speaking…but bear with me...

If I may make so bold as to be another B3tard that takes advantage of the ‘whatever’ part of the QOTW…

A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned in the ‘Bastard Colleagues’ QOTW about a place where I used to work and a shit-shovelling spack-potato of a manager called ‘Burnsey’

I also mentioned that a good friend of mine and fellow B3tard (Mudbutton) had just been promoted to Team Leader, but due to the bullshit, backstabbing, brown-nosing, politically correct policies and crap all round management I said that the place was going down the bog quicker than a runny poo on roller skates.

Not even 3 short weeks later, and I hear that Mudbutton is out of a job. On the dole. On his arse. In my opinion this is a matter of supreme injustice.

Here’s what happened…

Mudbutton was one of the very few people whose career progressed there because of merit and hard work. It wasn’t a meteoric rise, simply because he got his job done well and didn’t kiss arse…he just kept plugging away. He’s a single father caring for 2 kids, and is a popular bloke, this helped smooth things when he earned promotions as nobody begrudged him reward for his efforts.

However, when Mudbutton was promoted this time, it put him in charge of somebody who thought that it should have been them that was promoted instead…and the ‘wronged party’ was a woman so vicious and vindictive that she would make Cruella DeVille look like Minnie Mouse on happy pills. Let’s call her ‘C’.

‘C’ complained to her manager about the appointment – He asked her to accept the company’s decision. She then took her complaint to her manager’s manager …he stated the reasons for Mudbutton’s promotion.

She then complained to HIS manager – who said that he wasn’t happy she’d felt the need to take it to this level, and that the reason Mudbutton got the job instead of her was simply because he was the best candidate for the job, (i.e better at it than she was). He then gave some reasons why she wasn’t considered as ‘focus points’ for her to concentrate on so that she might be successful next time.

Did she listen? Did she take the hint? Did she my shiny cock-end.

She marched to HR and complained that it must be against company policy for somebody else to get promoted instead of her. She was told to pull herself together, get over it, and move on.

She went to her ‘colleagues’, trying to gather support for her cause, pleading for everyone to march en masse in sympathy of her as a revolution at the travesty of Mudbutton’s appointment. They weren’t having any of it.

She tried to turn his own team against him, stirring up gossip and rumours, hoping to bring about a vote of no confidence.

But as I said…Mudbutton was popular, ‘C’ wasn’t. They all collectively told her to ‘get to fuck’.

On Friday, 8th Feb, Mudbutton received the ‘Nintendo Wii’ joke email that is currently doing the rounds. For those of you that haven’t seen it, it shows a hand going up and down a Wii remote, and some cock custard spurting over a tv screen. I thought it was funny anyway.

Now this woman was stood behind Mudbutton when he received this email. He opened it, laughed and closed it again. Before he deleted it, ‘C’ sprung into action and hatched a plan…a plan so spiteful that she was willing to sacrifice her own career simply to bring Mudbutton down.

“Ooh that’s a funny email” she snorted to Mudbutton. “Can you forward it to me so I can send it to my friends? – They’ll think it’s brilliant”

Mudbutton is a kind man – he foolishly trusted her and saw this as an olive branch to help build the working relationship after the shite she had done the past couple of weeks.

“No problem” he said. Those two words, and one click of his mouse cost him his livelihood.

‘C’ finished work on the Friday and spent the weekend sorting out her statements and getting her story straight. She came into work on the Monday, did her job for a bit, had normal, rational conversations with everybody then went home early.

She went straight to her doctor and got herself signed off for 2 weeks with sexual harassment induced stress.

After informing the company, they promptly dragged Mudbutton’s unsuspecting ass into HR and informed him of the incident.

“She asked me to send it to her!” He pleaded.

“Any witnesses?” asked HR

“Nope” said Mudbutton.

“We must facilitate the moralistic highground scenario” said Burnsey, (which translates as:)

“Despite the fact that we know you’ve been done up like a kipper, we’re pressing the ‘panic’ button…You’re fucking out of here matey, and we’re going to do wank-diddley all to support you.”

“Shit-cakes” said Mudbutton.

Lo and behold he was immediately suspended and escorted off the premises. He was called by HR ‘off the record’ and informed that he was to be sacked on Monday, and the best thing for all concerned would be to come in with his resignation and return his company lease car.

This is all bad enough – but in her bloodlust at Mudbutton she forgot something…the poor bastard who originally sent him the email works there too…and he used to be quite a good friend of ‘C’…

He has been given the same treatment though...and has been forced to resign today.

‘C’ has said that she is too 'distressed' to go back into work and the word is she will receive a BIG payoff.

Now if that’s not a crime….
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 19 Feb 2008, 12:01, 18 replies)

Crime?
I witness people commiting crimes against grammar, and spelling every week on QOTW.

/edit.

Congratulations to all the grammar pedants, better than Pavlov's dogs.
However, winner of 'best paranoid and indignant response' goes to Willenium for his apparent conviction that it's him, and him alone I'm having a go at.

They're all watching you Will, don't forget your tinfoil hat when you go out.
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 11:53, 12 replies)

Bus driver
Last week actually;

Lady Deskbound and I were off to Venice for a few days, unfortunately our flight was early doors, so had to get the night bus to Victoria station to catch the Gatwick Express.

Well, the London night buses are something to behold. The first part of the journey was fine, but the second was a different story. We clambered on with our luggage and sat behind to young ladies, one of whom has a large mass of gob in her hair, nice. They also looked terrified.

Some prick, so high on crack his eyes stood out on stalks was threatening all the passengers with his best ‘street talk’, saying he was going to cut us all up and basically being a supreme c-nut of the highest order. This went on for about 10 mins when the bus driver slammed the breaks on, got out of his seat and grabbed the twat by the throat and started threatening him. The guy looked genuinely terrified. What we then noticed was the fact that the driver had a manual cork screw in his hand and was holding it like a make-shift stabbing device.

He threw the idiot of the bus, who then proceeded to punch and kick the door (and broke his hand I think).

So that’s the crime I witnessed. Good on you Mr bus driver!!!
(Deskbound You insignificant speck of dust, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 11:39, Reply)

Oooo... just remembered

I went to a garden centre some years ago (not sure why now) anyway, when I came out I saw a bloke attempting to force the door on a Citroen AX anyway I strolled over and when within a few yards I say 'what are you doing' he says 'shhh, I'm trying to get the stereo out' I replied with 'It's my fucking car!!' he scampered off very rapidly.



(Kip, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 11:36, 1 reply)

Crime..
I was told to put 'fat c*unt' into Google and press 'images'

I thereby witnessed man's inhumanity to man.

People can be so cruel. A lot of those people are just big boned.
(MizStinky, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 11:23, 3 replies)

Chicken Wars
When living in a pub during my youth, I could see 2 franchised fried chicken shops from my window (not only the chicken shops, other stuff as well)... anyway.... I think they were something like "Chicago Chicken" and "Fast Go Chicken."

Instead of competing with eachother with prices or least cases of salmonella found, they had a much more novel method.

You'd see a load of drunk blokes talking to chicken shop #1 manager, taking a few notes and box of food... they would then proceed to beat the shit out of the other chicken shop. The next night, same group of blokes would be outside chicken shop #2, accepting notes and food and would return the beating to chicken shop number #1.
Happy days watching the chicken wars! Should get Ross Kemp out there to make documentary.

Length? A chicken bone.... first post.
(wicks, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 11:16, 1 reply)

Witness
I was watching a film in which Harrison Ford becomes an Amish in order to pork Kelly McGillis. What a crime.

*Sighs. Doesn't even smile*
(frankspencer, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 10:08, Reply)

and they call it 'confiscating'
And a couple of years ago at Glasto the fuzz stole my mates weed, but glasto taketh and glasto giveth as about an hour later he found about an ounce of hash on the floor, huzzah!
: )
(It'sLikeHerdingCats, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 10:07, Reply)

Arf!
I saw a man stealing my garden gate. I didn't say anything as I thought he might take offence
(harnez, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 9:43, 5 replies)

Wank!
I used to get the bus to work every day, so I got to know the people that hung around bus stops. There were two sorts, people wanting to travel on a bus and nutters.

One of the nutters was intensely attracted to the daughter of the owner of the chip shop located near the bus stop. Over the course of a few months I watched the relationship blossom. For a couple of weeks he’d go in the chip shop and exchange a few words…he was soon banned from entering the establishment. So he pleasured himself by staring intently at his true love through the shop window, or to be more accurate, he pleasured himself by masturbating while staring at her.

I personally saw him being arrested 3-4 times, but as he was an actual nutter I’m not sure if he ever went to court. And the thing is, the target of his illegal masturbatory behavior was as ugly as sin. Grossly overweight, very strong features, big black mustache. But one look at her and this guy was in heaven. I think there’s a lesson for us all there.
( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Tue 19 Feb 2008, 9:33, 4 replies)

I must confess....
I once got a friend locked up over Christmas. Back in the heady days of 1981, I was serving in Her Majestys Armed Forces,with all the boredom that that induced (no Iraq, Afgahanistan then, dear B3ta), and all was happy in my world.
Cue the Christmas piss up for B company. Dirtiest strippers, filthiest comedian, terrible beer, and the idiot that ran the NAAFI hadn't got enough draught lager in, so half way through the night, I had to go onto bitter. From a can. Much fun and imbibing of said dirty beer later, the nations finest stagger back to their respective barracks, with added stupidity due to alcohol included, but I'll save that for another date.
Come the morning, the flower of britains youth arise, coughing, farting, and scratching, and generally looking like shit. Who cares? The buses to the train station are leaving in 3 hours, so, after hastily showering, shaving etc, and filling kitbags, we all fall in for parade.
Now this is where it all goes tits up. I was fine, until about 2 minutes into the parade, and then the dirty beer decides its bored, and wants out- now. I'm stood there, clenching for all its worth, sweating etc, and the camp commandant is about 6 men along, and thats it, its going to come out, like it or not- in the form of the loudest, most obnoxious fart I think I have ever done, or will do. Luckily, my colleagues to either side are pretty bleary, and I'm on the back row, so I did the time honoured thing of turning to my left, and wrinkling my nose up and glaring at my mate Kym (yes, that is his real name).
At that, assorted Sergeants, RSMs all come screaming across, and see me glaring at Kym, and the smell was awful too. Kym suddenly is dragged off to the gatehouse, I'm left in shock, but NO WAY was I going to admit it.
Anyway, we are all packed on the buses, he's locked up until the day after New Years day, when he was let off with no charge. So I was the criminal, but wouldn't take the rap. Shame on me, but it was a good Christmas- met the present Lady wife that Xmas, so all was good.
Apologies for length, but its the girth, dontcha know.
( Duke Of Belmsford has got 99 records, but Jay-Z ain't one, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 8:36, 3 replies)

A touch of the 'what ifs'
For those of you "I'm a big bloke and I just watched him do it" types (me too, I'm dismally ashamed to admit), take the following to put things in perspective:

A friend of mine (sadly now no longer with us) was in the SAS and was generally extremely unforthcoming with stories. However, one day, on a stopped chairlift, he recounted how he and his patrol had been on a live exercise (as in carrying real guns with real bullets) in the merrie english countryside. Whilst pretending to be bushes somewhere, they heard the unmistakeable report of an AK going off in a nearby town.

Thinking (in hindsight, probably quite rightly) that the police would better be able to deal with one reported gunman than 5, they stayed put and listened to events unfold.

So that's how Michael Ryan managed to shoot up a small town within earshot of a tooled up SAS squad.

Bit hard to make eye contact after that one.
(pounana Slept well, and dreamed of large women, on, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 6:42, Reply)

Why I love my town's cops
This is one of my favorite stories actually
and why I have the utmost respect of those upstanding gentlemen known as the Stratford, Connecticut police force
So me and my friend, mildly buzzed, at, ohh, guessing about 4 or 5 PM, being the lazy good for nothings that we are, went off to see a movie, Casino Royal I think it was, anyway, we see the movie, its all well and good, my friend the kid who plays poker for a living is yelling about the film and I'm feigning interest, while we get to a major intersection in our town, cross the street, continue walking, when all of a sudden, Black SUV license plate _ _ _ - UFO (can't believe I remember that much) comes up to the stoplight, we then see the door being kicked open and a woman screaming for help, her legs kicking out of the door, in fact, she dropped a sneaker in the middle of the street, two male voices saying something along the lines of "shut your mouth you wench, close the door good chap" although my memory is a bit hazy, slamming the door shut with the muffled screams of the woman still being heard, and then running the red light and making a left.
My friend and I just stare at each other and begin repeating the license plate over to ourselves, so we wouldn't forget, while he started dialing the cops, however, I saw the reason that she did this further down the road, there were three cop cars positioned at the other corner, so, thinking they might be a much faster help, we ran over. Now heres where it gets a bit surreal, we walk over to the first cop, big balding man who looks like hes pregnant with a full keg of beer, who, upon hearing that we've just witnessed a kidnapping, interrupts and says in a very calm and matter-of-fact way, "well...I'm going to the bar...but you can ask that guy"
So, we go to the second cop, who is sitting in his car, who promptly rolls up his window and speeds off with us looking bewildered.
The third cop, a young guy, heard us out at least, took no notes, and then told us he'd "look into it"
still no idea what happened, never heard anything else about it, all I know is that that shoe was on the side of the road for quite a few weeks afterwards. and the cops in my town are useless save for breaking up parties.
"I'm going to the bar"
that line will stay with me for a long time...
( Arsonade is saving up for a new box of hummus, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 6:20, 1 reply)

Mine was pretty strange but I’ll tell it anyway.
It was strange night/day. Had met a few mates one Saturday lunch for a few beers in the local. We were sitting outside talking crap when we saw a beast of a man walking into the pub carrying a bat. We just stayed put. After 2 mins and lots of noise he came walking back out minus the bat. We poked our head in the door to see half the pub bleeding and some women screaming. We decided to scarper.

Had to meet the missus early evening so left the chaps in another bar and walking back home I saw the same beast man kicking the crap out of someones door, I put my head down and walked past as he was dragging some other large chap out by his rather fetching pony tail and giving him a bit of a shooing.

Went back out that evening with some different mates, got very drunk in some other pubs. We decided to go back to mine for a few more beers/joints and on walking back we heard a noise which sounded like a riot. Walking round the corner a cab was beeping his horn rather loudly and a group of about 15 blokes were giving some poor sod a proper kicking. They ran for it at the sound of the police. So we walked over to help the chap (not a wise move). You’ve guessed it, it was the beast man getting a kicking and he was just getting his senses back. He must have woken and seen the 5 of us standing round him, now we were trying to help him up but he must have thought we were the attackers. So, he bit my mate on his leg (he still has the scar) punched a couple of us a few times and thankfully the police turned up before he could do serious damage*

The police then nicked us all and we spent the night and most of the next morning in the cells wearing paper suits. They let us go as all our stories matched and telling them repeatedly “did you see the size of the cunt, why would we attack him”.

This was 5 years ago and never heard another thing about it so god knows what was going on but it was an eventful day.

*we are all fairly big blokes and could handle ourselves but this guy was huge and clearly as mad as bat shit.
(Lanceuppercut, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 4:44, Reply)

hardly a proper crime, but morally questionable and innocently fraudulent
when i was about 6 or 7, i remember sitting in my house with my friend, wondering how we could get money for sweets! He then informed me of this crazy notion of charity! I thought this concept was fantastic and instantly became a big fan! So he got this big red plastic box, and went round the doors of the street I lived on asking people to donate money to charity! Did he name any specific charity? no.

He landed back at our house with about 6 or 7 quids! it all got spent on penny-chews. In hindsight, i realise that the very generous donatrons/donatresses weren't naive about the whole thing and gave the poor wee thing some money knowing it was going to the local sweetie shop, but still, i reckon it's like something Sick Boy frae Trainspotting would've gotten up to when he was but a wee boy!

Length? We'd have done 6-7 hours of community service. Probably for a charity.
(bl33dingsaint how's your father?, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 4:37, Reply)

Hmmm,
I just had to go identify the guy mentioned here:

www.b3ta.com/questions/witness/page4/

Result! They're arresting him tonight.
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 4:08, 2 replies)

I came home one day
to find my housemate illegally downloading the crazy-frog song.

on another note, i got held at gunpoint on my front door step by a mentalist neighbour in belfast, who must've thought i was 'the brits'!
(bl33dingsaint how's your father?, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 2:06, 3 replies)

Taco bell.
It was around 7pm. I was visiting my brother at his place of work, he had wasted his lunch break taking a nap and had grown hungry. I decided to go get us some mcdonalds.

While at the drive thru paying window you can clearly see the taco bell drive thru right next door. I was paying for the food when i heard two gunshots.

I look over at taco bell to see a truck at an odd angle next to the drive thru, I could see the persons legs under the vehicle, but that is all I could see besides two police cars in front of the vehicle. It was about 10 seconds after I heard the first two gunshots that I heard another one. I saw the person fall to the ground. I waited for the food as more police showed up.

Saw in the paper the next day it was a woman. She had been on meth and having domestic problems with her husband which worked the drive thru at taco bell.

That was in june of 2006. I still have the newspaper that has the story in it.
( postal ninja has Transmissible spongiform encephalopathies, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 1:24, Reply)

This one's a bit better...
My boyfriend and I went to a rave in the woods. After settling down and setting up camp, we embarked on a mission to purchase psychodelic substances. We began with the typical whispering among ourselves, pointing at shady guys with backpacks trying to find out who was holding and who was just plain shady. I finally found someone who just HAD to have something yummy to ingest, judging by the large crowd that had assembled around him. Quietly, self-consciously, I crept forward to approach him and began to whisper my needs in his ear, but alas the music was too loud. "Speak up!" he demanded. I cleared my throat nervously and started to speak up a little more. I was terribly afraid of anyone hearing me. Just when I was about to ask him a second time, he pushed me aside and said, "Hold on!" Several people were giving us funny looks by then, including my boyfriend. He turned toward the crowd and announced, in the manner of a bazaar peddler, "Mushrooms! Ecstasy! Acid! Get your psychodelics here!" His voice rang through the forest, without shame or remorse. There was no way you couldn't hear him. He then turned to me again and said, "Okay, what were you asking about?"
(BrainSurgerysFun, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 0:56, Reply)

Not that funny, actually, sorry
I live, unfortunetely, on a very busy street and my bedroom window is directly facing this street. I have seen many crimes committed, mostly drug use and deals, and homeless people frequently camp out right below my window for the night. I was awoken one night by terrible, loud screaming and peered through my window blinds to see a very, very funny (but very innappropriate) sight: a fist-fight between a man and a woman. I usually don't think this is funny, except that the man in question was HUGE and the lady was tiny and skinny, but the woman was the one doing all the beating while the man just stood there, bemused and frightened. As funny as it was, I couldn't get to sleep, so after ten minutes of fighting I yelled, "I'm calling the cops!" They split. I didn't actually call the cops. Yeah, right. If they were to search my house...
(BrainSurgerysFun, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 0:49, Reply)

On how I nearly fitted into this QOTW....
A couple of mondays ago, me and my friend C (shes female and noticibly so) had been out for a wee bit of drinkage in the fine town of manchester (joshua brooks if your interested).
The early hours were upon us and after my dismal failure to pull this chunky lass and C having a massive argument with her mate, and we both decided to call it a night. So off we went to the bus stop and hopped on the first bus heading our way.
The bus eventually arrived and we hopped on. The bottom was fairly full so we headed up to the top, there were only us two sat at the front and three scabby looking guys at the back. About 30 seconds into the journey an unshaven mess appears at my shoulder and announces (in its best chavspeak) "You want any blow mate?"
I didnt, and informed him thus. He apparantly took objection to this and responded with this (stunning) bit of repartee: "Then give me all your fucking money"
Being in a rather inebriated state (and fairly convinced this bloke was a gnome) I just nodded and continued staring blankly at him. The threats continued for a few more moments and I eventually realised I was being mugged. Deciding I liked my face very un"slashed" I got out all my money (about 4 pounds in change) and duly handed it over.
About 3 minutes later (after an ignored attempt to steal my phone) the kindly gent retires back to his seat and starts cackling with his fellow man-gnomes. The bus pulls over a few seconds later and me and C decide to ge the hell outta there.
Man-gnome chooses this moment to look up and notices C, looks very confused and hurried up to me.
"Shit sorry mate, didnt realise you were with a girl."
Now its my turn to look confused (this may have showed in my expression) as manchavgnome proceeds to reach into his pocket and pulls out all his change and hands it to me.

Yes, thats right, I got a refund on a mugging.

Actually I made about 1.50 on the deal.

I think that makes me Jesus...

Apologies for length, it would be longer but im still confused.
(big king bob Lord of the Ska, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 23:28, 5 replies)

A tramp stole my clothes
Me and my girlfriend don't have a washing machine in our flat so we have to use a launderette, which is a right pain in the arse. One evening, I go over, dump the clothes in a machine, go back home for 20 minutes then return to the launderette. While this is going on my girlfriend's cooking.
I transfer the clothes to the dryer, and as I'm walking out I see this incredibly dodgy looking smelly tramp bloke walk into the launderette.
I leave, stand outside, call my girlfriend and say, "there's an incredibly dodgy looking smelly tramp bloke in the launderette, and I'm worried he's going to nick my clothes." She says, "Oh I've just put delicious dinner on the table, and I'm topless and massaging butter onto my wonderful breasts." (I might have added a bit there, just for artistic license).
I look back and tramp bloke is sat down by the dryers, so I think, "he's probably just waiting for some drying." I head off back home and eat some delicious food and help my girlfriend rub butter onto her breasts (again, artistic license).

Head back to the launderette with the smell of Anchor still lingering on my fingers. Enter Launderette. Dodgy man no longer there. Walk to dryer, look in laundry bag. There are clothes in there. Dirty, filthy, stinking, shit-stained tramp clothes. Look in dryer, my nice new, clean, Christmas-present clothes are all gone. Fucking bastard arsehole tramp.
I spent the next half an hour trying to track down said tramp, going to all the dodgiest places in our neighbourhood and asking a lot of shady characters if they'd seen a tramp with a bag of clothes, Charles Bronson style. But then I realised the sales were on and I could so do with a new wardrobe anyway.

PS. I know this isn't technically witnessing a crime, but I did see the bit before and the bit after.
PPS. I realised also I was a total knob-end.
( krang, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 23:23, 2 replies)

Saturday night.
For the past 4 years I have seen crimes of unimaginable magnitude every Saturday night. Be it "The One and Only," "X-Factor," or "Dancing on Ice," the programme makers should be locked up.
(Rikaitch is full of crap ideas., Mon 18 Feb 2008, 22:59, 2 replies)