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This is a question I witnessed a crime

Freddy Woo writes, "A group of us once staggered home so insensible with drink that we failed to notice someone being killed and buried in a shallow grave not more than 50 yards away. A crime unsolved to this day."

Have you witnessed a crime and done bugger all about it? Or are you a have-a-go hero?
Whatever. Tell us about it...

(, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 11:53)
Pages: Latest, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, ... 1

This question is now closed.

Max the Boxer
My granny had a farm in the middle of a very big bog in the middle of Ireland. She also had two boxer dogs who were known far and wide as good guard dogs. The had a type of bark that would frighten fully grown tough farmers and most of the county was terrified of them. We went to a funeral one day and got back to find the front door pushed in and big old Max chewing on something and looking very proud of himself. We quickly realised that someone had tried to get in by smashing the glass panel on the door and opening the latch. Next conclusion was that Max was chewing a human finger. We never heard anything more about it. (oh yeah and we let him finish eating the finger because neither of us wanted to touch it and he had been chewing it for ages so we decided that it was unlikely to be claimed)
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 16:55, 1 reply)
Another example of Harrovian mugging technique
Bloke on crutches approaches my mate.
"Give me your money and phone, or I'll stab you"
My friend's solution? Walk away!
"Don't walk away from me, I'll fucking do you in"
Mate carries on walking away. The guy doesn't follow.
Ergo: He wasn't using crutches as a means of seeming vulnerable, he genuinely had trouble getting around.
We guessed that he probably injured himself through his own idiocy, given his preferred method of doling out the standing and deliverance.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 16:44, Reply)
Have i witnessed a crime?
ITVs Dancing on Ice.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 16:31, Reply)
We'll be fine, don't worry....
A bunch of mates came up to Nottingham (where I'm currently doing my practicals in drinking studies) for my birthday last year.
After much imbibing and good times, we were walking around town as I got into a conversation with a mate of mine about "Shottingham"'s reputation:
Says I:
"...Yeah, Radford and St Ann's are the areas you get shot, but here's pretty safe - "
In a moment of perfect Sod's Law, the second I ended that sentence we turn a corner and encounter one of the stupidest street fights I have ever seen.
Several of Nottingham's finest brawlers, pissshed to the bone, attempting the world's worst excuse for gymnastics on each other.
One guy tried to kick another, and ended up on his arse (Gravity 1, Moron 0).
Another guy attempted something equally as 'athletic' and ended up with his arm at a very peculiar angle and some bone showing to boot.
We decided to watch, whilst in stitches, until we heard police sirens. Then we ran like the wind!
Moral of the story: Drunk people don't feel pain.
Fighting them = bad

and potentially amusing
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 16:22, Reply)
About a year ago I was in the ladies toilets of a rock bar in town and doing my lipstick in the mirror when a man came in and stood by the door.

He seemed quite drunk so I presumed that he had made a mistake and I directed him to the gents and away he went.

I carried on doing my lipstick and the door opened again. It was the same guy. He just stood there so I told him sharply to get out of the ladies toilets.

He responded to this by punching me in the face and hitting my head against the dryer and then repeatedly kicking me whilst I was down. He then grabbed me by my hair and tried to get me into a cubicle and lock the door.

There was no way that I was prepared to be in an enclosed space with him. I have 6 brothers and I am quite accustomed to getting out of tight grasps/awkward situations so I managed to wriggle free quite a few times.

However, every time I did so (and almost reached the door to my escape) he would grab me again and get me into the cubicle again!

I eventually got free and managed to get through the door and to my dash for freedom

The toilets in the pub are down some stairs so I ran up them and my attacker had to push past me to get away. I tried to grab his leg as he went past (it’s a narrow stairway) but he kicked me back. I ran the rest of the stairs and screamed blue murder.

Some (pretty hard) male friends of mine heard and saw the guy flee and made chase. They caught him up the road (after seeing him throw my purse and mobile – he’d somehow robbed that as well as beating me up and trying to rape me) and gave him what for. They broke his ribs and jaw and although I am not a violent person myself I think he got what he deserved.

I know some people will think it’s wrong to take the law into your own hands but to attack a young woman in a ladies restroom for no reason at all is beyond belief and I dread to think how far he would have taken things had I not escaped.

I just hope it taught him a lesson.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 16:07, 9 replies)
Reverse mugging
About three years ago i was asked to move on to night shift at my current employer, and the majority of staff at the time were a little dull. However a small group of them were a lot more interesting and invited me on a night out round Nottingham with them. After a tour round the less salubrious bars we ended up in "Rock city", a nightclub full of underage drinkers and metalheads. Not my cup of tea, but i stayed until about 2.30 am.

Bidding my friends a farewell, i left and started the short walk to my car.

As i walked alone down a less than friendly road, a battered old Ford Fiesta pulled up and the four occupants jumped out and blocked my path, four tiny little chav scrotes who had decided that they would rob a drunken clubber.

I however was stone cold sober, and far larger than them. A short altercation occured, and i walked off £40 and two mobile phones better off.

The crime? the Fiesta had one of those awful venom stripes painted on, and it wasn`t straight. And i did nothing about it. It still haunts me to this day.

(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 16:04, 1 reply)
Following on from rachelswipe's story below...
... I had a nasty run-in with a not entirely trustworthy guy a couple of years ago in Canterbury.

I was walking home from town one evening just towards dusk, and the quickest and easiest way to get to my house was to walk along the city walls - high up and usually full of people, with a good view of the chavs drinking White Lightning in the park below. I have to walk through a small corner of the park to get to the slope that runs up to the city walls, and as I reach the bottom of the footpath I see a man standing half in the shadows and half in the light. Something about him strikes me as odd, so I avoid eye contact and keep walking. The next thing, he's walking beside me saying "Hello, how are you? I feel strong". He sounds foreign, I couldn't place his accent but I suspected Eastern European, and he follows me all the way along the walls asking me random questions about who I am and where I'm going and whether I want to come with him to an art exhibition because he's "lonely". Fortunately I had the presence of mind (it's a strange survival instinct I have that makes me lie through my teeth about myself to anyone remotely creepy) to tell him my name was Jenny, that I studied economics and the reason I was walking this way was to go to see a friend. By this time, the hairs are really beginning to stand up on the back of my neck and I'm throwing pleading looks at passersby to step in and get this weirdo away from me.

Towards the footbridge that I was going to cross to reach my street (for any of you Canterbury b3tans out there, the one you cross to go to the station, or to the Works if you're so inclined), he gestures to the monument on a grassy knoll up a steep slope from where we are and asks me if I want to accompany him to the top. By this time terrified he's going to cut me into little bits or something, I tell him I have to run, and he asks if he can have my phone number. Thinking on my feet, I tell him "I don't fancy men," and make to leave. He says "That's okay, I didn't mean that, but we can if you want to..." and leers at me. This is the final straw, and fearing I'm about to be grabbed, I scream "oh, FUCK OFF YOU FREAK! LEAVE ME ALONE!" at the top of my voice, and ran all the way home, slamming the door behind me. And I never walked along those walls again in anything less than midday sun.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 15:50, 12 replies)
ebay stupidest scam of all time
Just before Christmas I went on the world's favourite tat bazaar looking for some boots to give as a present.

I found a rated seller in Manchester (alarm 1 missed), selling them cheaper then the rest (alarm 2 missed).

But way hay ebay/paypal would guarantee the transaction :))

After parting with my hard earnt cash, I receive a TKO notice regarding a fake auction, which is removes the boots. from the site. I then start a claim against the seller via paypal.

I am given a full refund from paypal.

A week later I receive a package from China with the boots as ordered in there.


Length? Well this is my first time.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 15:48, 2 replies)
Stopped the fantom knifers
We live in a small village, and every now and then people would come out of their houses and get into their cars when they would notice that their tyres had been knifed. This had been going on for quite some time, and to completely random people - so it was a fair guess to say that the incidents were not related.

Anyway, it was the day before New Years Eve about 6 or 7 years ago and the then GF and I were walking back from the pub just after closing time, when I heard a loud "Pfffffffff" from behind me - naturaly I looked round and saw 3 "kids" knifing tyres randomly - obviously, it being the end of the year was cause for a knifing-tyre frenzy by way of celebration. I chased after them and they ran (a lot fast than me, it has to be said - they hadn't had years of drinking and smoking behind them), but, I managed to catch hold of the slowest.

Unbeknown to me at the time and while my girlfriend was phoning the rozzers, one of the owners of one of the cars came out to see what was going on. Of course, he looks out of his door and sees my fat arse running down the road. He assumes it was me that had knifed his tyres and he and his mates come running after me.

As I'd caught the slowest, his 'mates' jumped into a red Rover (obviously borrowed from Daddy for the purpose) and buggered off and left him on his own - nice! My misses sees them get in the car, by which time she was on the phone to the rozzers and she gave them most of the number plate (all bar the last letter).

Anyway, the chap who's car it was and his mates catch up with me just in time to hear the little runt

They catch up, just in time to hear the little runt who had been caught by me say "Fuck it, those kids who were knifing tyres got away.....apart from THIS ONE (gesturing to me!)"

The bloke who's car it was then starts on at me, "What's you name? eh, come on" etc....

I try to explain what ACTUALLY went on, but of course the more I protest, the more guilty I look. Anyway, to stop a long story from getting any longer, after some searching of the kid and NO SEARCHING OF ME (they could fuck off, I don't care if it was 3 to 1, there was no fucking way 3 oversized twats were going to search me in the street) they found the knife - then they belived me - sort of - I still see them around and to this day I swear they are still not sure.

Anyway, about 2 hours pass, and a police car turns up. We stop them, as it seems they were content with just staring at us and driving straight past us slowly.

They had no intention of coming to sort this out, and in fact knew nothing of it, and refused to do anything about it despite the aformentioned kid being caught red handed and with a knife on him.

Another 2 hours pass (4 hours now!! 4 hours!), and finally a police car turns up who IS here to sort it out. Of course, I start on about how it could have taken them 4 hours and they reply they have come from xxxxtown - 9 MILES AWAY. I pull them up on this and point out that they could have moonwalked the 9 miles and still have had time to cook a roast dinner, the copper's reply was to nick me and send the knife laden kid on his way without so much as a clip round the ear.

Bah - next time the fuckers can just have flat tyres.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 15:45, Reply)
Interesting mugger
Huzzah, first post, b3ta cherry popped and all that.

Here's the first story I've got. This was about a year and a half ago, back when I was halfway through my first year of university. I'm up in Chester, which is famed for being small and sleepy and very quiet. Or so I thought until one night out. There are only two nightclubs that are worth going to in Chester, and one of them is stretching the "worth going to" part. It's absolute shit and is famed in my year of uni for having had several of our people mugged and raped in the bogs.

But anyway, I digress. This story is not about how I witnessed the rape or the muggings in the club.

Coming out of one of the clubs, after having a generally fun time drinking whatever I can get my grubby student mitts on, I'm ever so slightly tipsy ;) and feeling the urge for some nice greasy chicken from the kebab shop. So instead of getting the taxi back home, I toddle off to the kebab shop to acquire sustenance.

About halfway to the kebab shop, I'm starting to sober up, although I'm still fairly off my rocker, and see a rather large, as in taller and built like a brick sh!thouse, gentlemen accost a smaller man and start saying things like "Kind sir, please hand over your wallet of valuables and mayhaps that telephoning device you have?" or words to that effect. Now, being a fairly naive and young GhostAtreides, I still had a sense of honour and morality at that point, so, in my inebriated state, I lurched towards the mugger and muggee to see what I could do to mediate in the situation.

The mugger sees me lurching towards the pair of them, and starts telling me to kindly fornicate off and to fornicate myself amongst others, from what I recall. I don't, and instead yell "Go fuck yourself, you fucking twunt!" (Yes, I had been lurking on B3ta for a good long while) and take a swing at said large gentleman. I miss. Whoops. Said large gentleman takes a swing at me. He misses too. Although, I hear a loud metallic bang, a nasty crunching sound and a scream like a little girl from the mugger.

Yes, the silly cnut had missed me and punched a lamppost as hard as he could. And broken his hand spectacularly. It was at this point that the muggee decided that now would be a good time to practice his long distance running technique, and so, shot off into the distance. I decide to kick the mugger in the soft bits as he's clutching his hand and then scarper for the kebab shop and leave him writhing in agony on the floor.

Length and girth? It wasn't much after he thumped that lamppost, I'm telling ya. Silly bastard had done some proper damage to himself.

If anyone wants the second story of how I got mugged for something really daft, reply and ask for it.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 15:43, 4 replies)
To protect her anonymity I'll call her "Jess"
Jess was walking home one night from work through Villiers Street (near Trafalgar Square) when she was set upon by a man in the street who kicked her and burned her with a cigarette when she wouldn't let go of her bag. She called me and was obviously very shaken up so I told her to get a cab to my ex's pub (nearby), called the ex to let her know what happened, and drove over there to see what could be done. She was shaken and had minor injuries, so I took her home (we were next door neighbours at the time) and after a few nerve-steadying ciders, she said she was going to be as she had to be in work at 7am.

At this point everyone in the kitchen suddenly turns around saying "Work? Fuck that, take the day off. Call the police and report what happened, then call work and tell them you need some time to recover," or words to that effect. However, Jess is adamant that she will make it into work the next day, as it's really important.

The next evening I pop round Jess's to see how she is, and she's positively beaming. At the time she worked as an events manager for a large firm in Whitehall, and the important thing at work was a conference on terrorism that she'd been organising, to be presided over by none other than then-PM TB himself. Her boss had told our Glorious Leader about her ordeal and so in his closing speech he pointed her out (probably helped that she was wearing a red dress) and led the audience in a standing ovation for doing such a great job despite being mugged the night before. Afterwards, he and the sinister specky then-Home Secretary dropped by the events staff chill-out room (hilariously small, like a very cramped storage area half-full of tables) to offer their thanks and congratulations on doing such a great job.

So with a celebratory cider, we drank to the fact that while she hadn't had chance to report the incident to the police, as she'd been so busy, Jess had been assured that the matter would be dealt with by no less than the Prime Minister and the Home Secretary. Result!
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 15:42, 2 replies)
a joke at the expense of the population on liverpool
at school i had some fiends who were from liverpool, after a few years they chose to move back there for a while. and upon arriving at their new house they realised that they didnt have the door key so they thought that there was only one thing to do. im sure that its got to be one of the most rarest things to see in liverpool

someone breaking in to a house and then shifting stuff in
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 15:39, 1 reply)
It never ends...
Aside from the usual recreational drug-related / other petty crimes that everyone's seen, I've had a lot of luck - bad that it happened, good that I was never directly involved or affected - with various places I've lived. In brief:
- As a student I was in my second floor flat revising for an exam the next day when I heard a commotion. I went out of the door and was about to start shouting when my flatmate called me back in to point out that the building had been completely surrounded by armed police. An armed robber had taken refuge in the ground floor flat and subsequently taken the occupants hostage. The exam? Crime and Punishment.

- Much later I lived on the Green Lanes in London, a very predominantly Turkish area. This is a huge road and the particular bit where we were was the Kurdish section - and could be a bit of a flash point. One night we're in the flat waiting for our dinner party guests and idly noticed that the Turkish mens club right opposite seemed to be having a party on. A few minutes later - commotion - we look out of the window to see a FULL SCALE RIOT in progress complete with about 100 geezers in masks and armed to the teeth. Turns out some general from the Tukish - Kurdish wars was in the club when someone from the other side burst in and tried to shoot him - some other guy ended up dead and the riot happened to allow the assassin to escape. We had a late dinner party as everyone had to get through the police cordon, then had a mobile nick parked outside the house for weeks, not that they ever looked at us as we were the only people in the vicinity to be not even slightly Turkish looking.

- In my current flat, I went for a pee (the bathroom is at the back) one night. Spotted someone standing in the darkness. Wondered why there seemed to be all these lights rigged up (pointing at the house meaning the guy down there was even more difficult to see). Wondered what the furious movements he was doing around the crotch area were all about. Suddenly realised he was furiously wanking; wished I had an air rifle to hand; called the police. A few weeks later my missus came screaming out of the bathroom first thing in the morning saying someone was pointing a video camera into the window - this time the police were a lot faster and we haven't had any trouble since.

- Closest one: we came back from an evening of beer and turned onto our street just in time to spot someone getting into our car. I went over and had him shitting himself (fortunately not literally) by knocking on the window and loudly insisting he get the fuck out of my car and fuck off pronto. I wasn't at all bothered about calling the police - just wanted him the fuck out of there - but when my missus realised what was happening she went ballistic and started screaming at him and calling them. when he ran for it I got out of the way when suddenly she started making after him (still on the phone to the old bill) and chased him down into the nearby council estate. Fortunately I followed because for a moment the guy got his balls back and turned on my missus; she realised the error of her ways and I managed to get in between them just before he caught her. Fortunately for him he thought better of tackling me and we ended up in the back of the police car looking for the bastard. We never found him but I reckon this is for the best, and my missus has now learnt her lesson.

All the above is 100& true and unembellished!

Length - he's lucky he never found out, I'd have clubbed him unconscious with it.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 15:34, Reply)
my bewildered friend
told me he'd seen a man come pelting past him down the street covered in blood

turned out this man had just stabbed someone in the throat.

im sorry. not pleasant. i cant think of anything funny. i'll wrack my brains.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 15:32, Reply)
A lot of people have posted about crime here... where is it? I've been living in Sheffield for a while and nothing. Only my friends feebly stealing pint glasses from the local.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 15:26, 4 replies)
crimes against men
On the train home a few weeks back I was blessed to be sat next to what I consider to be one of the most aesthetically pleasing females I have ever laid eyes on, she really was quite perfect, unfortunately my confidence is not such that I could ever strike up a conversation with such a girl but alas to be sat next to her for 20 minutes accidentally rubbing knees on the packed train was a good end to the week.

20 minutes passed and the train was pulling into the station, its final stop, as always I was up a few minutes before waiting at the door so I could get a move on, as the driver creeped the train to its stop my window drew level with another stunner standing on the platform, this one a red head (my fav) she was wearing a white dress which was very see thru in the light from the setting sun, quite clearly showing a pair of white thongs and a very nice lacy bra, the conductor took a good 30 seconds to unlock the doors allowing me a good full scan, alas she was carrying a bunch of roses that could only have been for her b/f (not that weird i had a g/f who used to for me) she looked past me inside the carriages expectantly.

Then the unthinkable happened, I opened the door and went to step out when I was side stepped by gorgeous girl number 1 rushing to get off the train, (her perfume was amazing) she ran over to gorgeous girl number 2 they both screamed and hugged, “aww” I thought, friends who had not seen each other for some months, maybe years how nice, each girl then pulled back and they shoved their lips together in a passionate embrace, which then became a french style embrace, 2 men who had got off the train further up actually tripped over each other as they walked past staring I must have been standing mouth open for a good 10 seconds before my “being rude” override kicked in and I started to walk away towards the exits, I don’t know how much more of a show there was but as I looked back for one last glance at these hotties who couldn’t contain the desires from their obvious long separation until they got home, the one who had been on the train had jumped up and wrapped her thighs around the waist of the one in the dress who then shoved one hand down the jeans and thong of her partner to grab some bum flesh while holding her other arse cheek from outside the restrictive material, men were grinning women were looking disgusted, oh to have been a fly on that bedroom wall

The crime ? obviously really, sorry to any gay females reading this but what a waste !! I know at least 7 lesbian couples all of them with a butch/fem or butch/butch combination this was the first fem/fem couple I had seen displaying obvious lesbian sexual relations both of them complete stunners any man would have been proud to have on their arm (me especially)

Length ? a damn sight longer (and harder) then normal when ever I think about it (damn stuck at my desk for 10 minutes now, quick give me something else to think about)
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 15:10, 12 replies)
One of many Heath incidents
When i was about 15 i lived in a set of private flats with gates (always open mind...). The flats being home to some fairly well-off types meant that the occasional scrote would wander about the roads looking for stuff to rob.
anyway ... one summers day two friends and myself were out skating as usual when we were alerted by shouts to the back of my mates flat...
it turns out that my mates neighbors toddler had left his bike by the back door and it had been robbed (not the first one either)... so my mates and I enter into the spirit of things and skate off in the general direction we were told the thief went...
we get outside the gates and down the road heading towards the woods when we see a huge balding, fat biker-type riding this toddlers bike down the road... how the fick he managed to give us the slip was anyones guess...

there are thousands of stories of crime and criminal behavior from this area too including:
- seeing the final life drain from a tramp but being too scared to do anything as we were technically not supposed to be out...
- calling the police after we went scoobie-doo on some dude who was always in this van at the end of the road (called the police becuase a. he looked like a sex offender and b. he had swastikas and pictures of Hitler in his van)
- trying to apprehend a crazy dude with a knife who had just tried to rob the local pub
- my mates and i stoned (biblical sense) a guy after he racially abused a couple of my mates
- made and used a molotov in the woods
- broke into a mates house (who was present) as they had no keys (crime?)

cant think of any more ... long enough... sorry ...
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 15:10, 2 replies)
good will and all that
I work on the market on a saturday and walk given the distance. The other saturday i was making my way to work at 6:30am and saw a frosted guy huddled into himself on the other side of the street, no doubt a friday night product as he was too well dressed (clean t shirt and jeans) to be a tramp i thought, and probably quite hypothermic by now, i was thinking of crossing the road to take him to the market, warm him up and send him on his way. Drawing level with him on the other side of the road he started shouting to himself, not at me as he'd turtled himself under his t shirt along with both arms to keep warm, I figured he was probably tripping or still raucously drunk and didn't feel like helping him after all as the usual roadsweep wasn't out that morning, and hence unable to save me from a man under the impression that I was a giant purple monster... i kept on walking. Half an hour later the same bloke turns up on the market, now with head and arms removed from said t shirt and proceeds to steal a wallet from the leather goods stall (maybe he thought it had money in it?), the owner of the pitch walked after him and whisked him around, asking him politely "excuse me old bean, would you be so kind as to hand back my unpaid goods?", the chap then proceeded to throw a punch at the trader who headbutted him. The ensuing brawl ended 10 seconds later with six traders on the top of the guy telling him to "piss off home mate", being the market the police weren't called, but i think it was still technically a crime? I can't be asked to help people anymore anyway, lesson learnt
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 14:59, Reply)
Drunk and disorderly
My ex works in a pub in central London and so we used to see all the usual junkies, crackheads, thieves and colourful street characters who make life in the metropolis so refreshing and vibrant. As the pub is near a police station, she's on good terms with the local bobbies and they'll often send someone round in the event of a fight, theft or threat, particularly if she's working on her own. One night I was there waiting for her to finish, and the bar was full of extremely drunk guys - normally not a problem, but these guys were totally wasted, getting abusive - I was sure it was going to kick off, and was getting concerned for her and my safety. The ex, however, looked relatively unfazed by it all and went into the office to call the police station.

"Hello?" I heard her say. "Police? Yeah, can you send a van round please? You need to pick up the day shift, they've been here since six."

Cue lots of suddenly sheepish but still drunk off-duty coppers being led away by their uniformed colleagues.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 14:57, 1 reply)
An Englishman in Poland
A few times I was saved from certain violence merely by being a foreigner. On the first occasion, I was being dragged into a notorious mafia dive where they steal your phone and wallet and make you pay for their return. The cyclopoid gorilla dragging me in froze startled when I said "Sorry I don't want to be robbed today, thanks." It wasn't my Wildean repartee that stopped him, just the fact that he had no idea what I was saying.

Another time, I was waiting for a bus in a shelter where a drunk was systematically smashing all the windows with his foot and wailing insanely about something or other. Noticing my presence, he roared up to me and yelled some spit-flecked anguish into my face, to which I responded: "No, sorry. You'll have to say that again in English." Dumbfounded, he politely muttered apologies and went back to smashing up the shelter.

It didn't work, however, in Warsaw train station - a hive of begging junkies last time I was there. When a human scarecrow approached me and asked for a few groszy, I said that I didn't understand Polish and he responded, "Oh, forgive me. I wonder if you could spare a few coins for my drug habit."

They have a better class of drug addict there.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 14:54, 1 reply)
Through the eyes of another
At my ace job, as systems support for petrol forecourts, I was speaking to an engineer who was on site when suddenly there were a few yells (one was particularly blood curdling) in the background and a few muttered expletives from my engineer.

Upon enquiring what was going on the engineer said that the Securicor guy had just been, "mugged by two chaps" and literally punched to the ground. The two swines the fled the scene, after pushing past the engineer, with the loot.

Clearly unimpressed by the whole scenario the engineer went about his business with full, and expert, advice from me. Every so often the engineer would mutter, "That was awful" etc. I heard the police sirens drawing closer as I finished the call... 20 minutes later.

Length - not sure, but it smells of petrol.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 14:44, Reply)
Not me honest
Brian, a Friend from Sixth form, had a reputation for being a bit "wacky", visited east berlin, holiday in bolivia etc. His best mate gets a job for some telecoms company in Gib so Brian goes off to visit him.
Apparently beer is not cheap there, so Brian and friend spot a squaddy in a bar and proceed to question the guy about whether it is possible to get on to the base so they can get cheap beer in the NAAFI. However, they fail to mention the reason why they want to get into the base, just ask "are there any un-guarded gates? are there any holes on the wire?" etc.
Squaddy makes his excuses and leaves.
A few minutes later a van load of red caps pull up outside and storm in, grab Brian and his mate and haul them off to the local base. Questioning goes along the lines "why do you want to get into the base? who are you? why have you been to Bolivia? why did you go to East Berlin?" etc. made slightly worse by the fact that the next day is the first changing of the guard at the base since the SAS shot dead a couple of irish people for trying to bomb the last changing of the guard.
Eventually they let him go.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 14:41, Reply)
Horrendous Attack
First post, please be gentle.

Myself and a good acquaintance were walking home from a popular nightclub in central Edinburgh (Fountainbridge, second mention in this QOTW!!!) when along the road walking towards us were 5 or so skinny neds. Now I am no genius when it comes to chav-etiquette but I was smart (and soberish) enough to know to keep my head down and keep walking, lest there be any trouble!

My friend, who for the record is one of the smartest guys I know did not live upto his bright reputation.

Upon walking past we hear the expected casual abuse, I think it was "cunts/poofs/dickheads" etc.. Got away with that quite lightly I thought. My friend John, for that was his moniker, despite being an average build scientist type, turned round and innocently enquired "what's that?", as I continued to walk unaware - as if the neds queried the time or were being friendly.

It was then I knew things would turn sour(ish).

The neds proceeded to throw punches at my friends nose and eyes and as I turned round to approach the situation I also felt a few nudges to the head/face.

Due to being unaware that I'm tough as fuck (I'm not - the copious amount of alcohol in my system protected I) it took a while for me tor egister exactly what had just happened but the neds had quickly disapeared.

I think they ran away but after receiving numerous blows to our respective faces, John and I looked at each other and proceeded back to the flat where we discovered we were unscathed.

(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 14:16, 3 replies)
Can I take your notes?
I work a lot of outdoor events in the summer and usually gravitate to the beer tent at some point.
One event last year had several mobile bars on the site for a 3 day event and they wre all doing a roaring trade so the guy who owns them or his partner would go round every once in a while to empty the notes from the tills.
As I was stood talking to one of the barmen I know slightly a chap comes round with the usual cloth bank bag and says 'can I take your notes?' barman empties his till of notes (about £800) and chap with the bag wanders off in the direction of next beer tent.
10 minutes later the chap owns the business comes up 'can I take your notes?' Barmen says 'your other chap just took them' 'What other chap?' says owner.(cue sound of penny dropping)
He'd done the same trick at all the bars on the site, just over £4k apparently.

Length - about 20 foot with loads of beer pumps bolted to it.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 14:11, Reply)
Saturday night
Mrs Spikeypickles best mates husband was having a go at her for not taking babyspikeypickle round to visit more often. He then thought it neccesary to punch me in the head - not once but twice - and smashed my glasses. I wasn't even aware that an argument was taking place.

Today my head still hurts a bit and I feel a little drowsy.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 13:55, 3 replies)
TV Chris Gets Carried Away...
Remember numerous years ago when McDonalds were doing that 'who wants to be a millionaire?' scratchcard promotion where hundreds of youths round the land would eat for free 3 times a day...?
One balmy summers evening myself and the good Dr. were getting royally pissed on cheap lager and playing pool.
Feeling the hungry rumblings of our guts, we decided that salty meat sustenance was in order and staggered over to MaccyDs to claim our 206th free burgers of the day. In the corner of the restraunt stood a lifesize, Six foot Chris Tarrant cardboard cut-out, grinning inanely and clutching a cheque for one million pounds. We chomped our burgers and as we left my pal calmly picked up Chris under one arm and we quickly made our exit with our new celeb chum, much to the bemusement of all.
We ran for our dear little lives choking heartily with laughter before dumping Chris safely round the back of a church and returning to the pub to continue getting pissed.

The local paper ran a story some days later with the headline:

'TV Chris Gets Carried Away'

My sister phoned me up in tears of laughter several hours after the heavily witnessed crime was featured in the rag.

"It was you wasn't it" she spluttered..
"How do you know ?"

The article went on to describe two long haired gentlemen in distinct Hawaiin shirts stealing Chris in a shocking act of daylight robbery.
Everyone that had seen us that day or indeed knew us in any way instantly knew we were the culprits.

Chris lived in my house for many years until one time I couldn’t face his awful grinning and chuckling any longer and removed his head with a lethal flick of a wet tea towel.

Length - Six foot upright.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 13:47, 2 replies)
As if renting a flat in London isn't a crime enough, just this morning some daft bint tried to con Mrs. Snuffy and her sister out of money.

Advertised a flat on a nice road in camden for quite a bit cheaper than the rest of them,

Mrs. Snuffys sister replied, bint tells her a long sob story, renting house out, her wife died at childbirth and she is currently in 'manchester' with their children, doesn't want to leave them if interest is not genuine

Sister tells her she very much is genuine

Twuntface says something along the lines of 'okay, but if your really interested, and just so I know I want you to transfer money to someone else (friend of sister) via moneygram and scan in the receipt, that way theres proof they actually have the money and sister will be able to pick it up once she's seen the house'

Twunt stresses how much she hates leaving her children and can't risk coming 'all the way down from manchester'

Okay, I'm not the sharpest tool in the box however I do know that moneygram are a company that never side with the victim and are notoriously difficult for the police to investigate... you are also able to get money form them with just a (fake)ID.

Really pissed me off to be honest. I found a site that allows you to print of blank moneygram receipts and was trying to get sister to agree to it, however she'd rather report them

Am I allowed to post her email adress on here?

Sorry for length and lack of funny, I'm still stewing on it now... I also once lost some money on ebay and am quite convinced I never really got over it
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 13:42, 3 replies)
when i was at university
in london, we lived in a really horrible part of town called bromley-by-bow. scumley-by-bow more like, it is probably the only place in zone 2 that hasn't improved over the last few years!

anyway, one afternoon i was walking down the long road from the tube station back to our house. i had my walkman on, but suddenly i could hear my name being screamed out and desperate dorian-esque footsteps pelting after me as quickly as essex high heels can manage.

i turned around and it was my flatmate lou. she was scarlet in the face and running like a cheetah. i stopped and waited for her. she caught up with me and started trying to get me to run too. this was never going to happen with DD boobs and a big bag of books (the last time i ran outside the gym [hmmm, or in it for that matter] maggie thatcher was in power), so i asked her what the problem was.

turns out she had exited the tube and two guys had caught hold of her, trying to throw her in a van parked outside. lou had twisted free and legged it. lou used to run for essex at school, so they'd clearly given up trying to catch her.

she was understandably very upset and shaken, and when we got home, we calmed her down. my then boyfriend oswald wanted to go out looking for them - yeah, because two would be kidnappers would be terrified by a public schoolboy who looked like a starving baby bird - and there was much talk of panic and the police.

the thing was, i must have walked past these guys myself about 2 mins earlier. and, although it was unworthy and i am being very flippant by posting it, underneath all the shock and sympathy for lou, all i could think was...

why didn't they try to take me? what's wrong with me?!!!
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 13:34, 11 replies)
Mistaken Identity
After a well spent boozy bank holiday Monday in 2006 in a mate's bar in Clapham I was advised (not being a local) to walk across the Common to get a bus back to Clapham Junction and catch a train home to the safety of the countryside and my home. This all sounded so easy, a nice fuzzy-headed stoll through the park followed by a well earned kip on the train was just what I needed. The reality was somewhat different.

About five minutes into my stroll I passed the band stand where a I spotted a 'youth' walking my way, not such a big problem I though, it is a public place after all. This was about 10 pm so I couldn't realy make him out from a distance but as he came closer he smiled innocently and asked for the time. I didn't have a watch so I had to apologise and went to walk on, he then asked if I had a mobile, again an innocent question I though as that would indeed have provided the time. I was fully into my 'alternative' living at this stage of my life so I was yet to get a mobile (yes it was 2006) so I once again had to apologise. This is when it turned bad. He reached into my pocket as if to proove to himself that I didn't have a mobile, he was disappointed to find only my tobacco. At this point I pushed him away and made to scarper but he asked me to look behind myself so in comedy panto style I looked over my shoulder in time to see a well aimed fist coming towards my face. I'll spare you the details but after a good old school kicking I ended up with a broken nose, two black eyes, a fractured jaw, two broken ribs and various other bruises, cuts etc. etc. Nice. (I did manage to spit a tooth at one of them in the middle of it, this might not have helped).

After picking myself up and realising that I had not only been beaten but also robbed I stumbled back to my mates house, all the way down the high street with blood pouring out of may face (note no-one asked if i was OK). I luckily found him and his girlfriend in and able to help and was soon well on the way to herbally reducing the pain and a full recovery was made.

You may wonder why this otherwise brutal story was thought relevent for such a light hearted website, well here is the punch line (sorry). After calling the police to report the theft a couple of full on inspectors turned up because it was a violent crime and needed immediate attention, I was in no mood, and more importantly well on the way to a Marleyesque paradise sleep so I said I would report it in the morning. They had a few simple questions first though. Where, when, how many etc.? but the highlight was 'were you on the way to the bushes or away from the bushes sir?'

I not only got pulped by two lids that night but the Metropolitain Police accused me of cottaging.

My reply is not suitable for publication.
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 13:34, Reply)
not so much stopped a crime...........
but im currently sat in a training room in reading and ive just seen a guy get a blowjob by a bench? at lunchtime in the day! no shame
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 13:23, 2 replies)

This question is now closed.

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