I witness crimes every weekend....
....and I'm always calling the police.

Sodding mini-motorbikes.

I hate them, sorry HATEHATEHATE them.

They're illegal, they're noisy and the people who ride them look like twats.

I saw a grown man riding, what can only be described as a "Beadle-hand Vespa" with a two year old child sitting between his legs round my local park at the weekend. No helmets, but then again, why bother? Darwin Awards anyone?

He decided that being noisy and stupid was just not anti-social enough and so pushed a woman with a buggy off the path to get past.

My dog was agitated, that poor woman was really shaken and all the other people in the park were leaving.

I called the police, and they took him away. I know they probably confiscated the bike, but I really hope they forcibly shoved it up his arse and gave his kid to responsible parents.

I know this doesn't compare to murder and rape, but those things genuinely are uncommon in the scheme of things (in the UK anyway)

Mini-motorbikes turn me into a rabid daily mail type, and I think that's what pisses me off the most.

Sorry, but anyone owning a mini-motorbike is a ignorant, stupid, twattishest twat of the highest order and is the best reason hanging should be brought back.

ARRRRGGGHHH....Daily Mail!

I'm so conflicted
(Jugular, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:29, 9 replies)

The police saw this...
My maternal grandfather was a policeman. Having joined the force at the earliest possible age - he left school at 14, I think - he worked his way up the ranks until, by the 1960s, he was superintendant, chief inspector or something. High-ranking enough to be in charge of the local force, anyway.

One perk he allowed himself a registration featuring the digits "999" on the family car, and it was on one of these 999 cars that my mother learned to drive. Licence acquired, she would borrow the car now and again.

The advantage of borrowing this car was demonstrated on one occasion at a speed-trap. Happily whizzing along way over the limit, Mum saw a traffic cop step out from behind a bush. Her heart sank as he raised his arm to indicate that she should pull over... and then was lifted again. The officer had noticed the licence plate and gracefully transformed his gesture into a salute as she passed.

It's true: sometimes the police are very lax with speeding drivers - especially when those drivers are mistaken for their boss.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:29, 1 reply)

Crime in Newcastle
52,000 people in the North East get robbed in broad daylight every other week….

By paying £40 quid a time to go and see Newcastle United play at home. Last week, we were playing away, and the opposition stole our lead. And our defenders just stood by and watched, doing fuck all to stop it. To make it worse, 30-odd thousand people were encouraging the opposition as they committed their foul and villainous crime!! Can you believe it???

Even worse, this was televised, and millions more were witness to the event. For some, it was too difficult to watch and they had to turn away, mumbling into their beer something like “It wasn’t like this in Wor Jackie’s day. We had decent scorelines”. I swear someone muttered something about the 1969 Fairs Cup, whilst wiping away a tear…
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:29, 6 replies)

My Uncle...
Was arrested for busting into a Liquor store and cleaning it out. They were accused of reversing a truck through the window and loading it up.

After a lenghty court case and loads of drama my father was called in as a witness and said he was with him all night.

So justice was served and my uncle was declared innocent. To celebrate (and thank him) My dad was given a few cases of Brandy.


God Bless false witnesses....
(Bluffboy South Africa! World Champions!!!, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:28, Reply)

Blockbuster's
I'm from Liverpool and worked in a Blockbuster's in Walton (near the football grounds). Now whenever people accuse me of being a thief purely for being scouse, I defend my city to the death, but my job in Blockbuster proved them right so many times. We had a few regular thieves who were pretty funny in the way they went about it. We had a duo who'd rob vhs tapes (in the case on the shelf? In Liverpool? Crazy!)His mate'd try and distract us about a foot away from the crime scene. We let them rob them because head office told us to get rid of vhs because dvd was becoming more dominant. Another guy robbed the bags of sweets almost every day. He'd storm in, grab a whole shelf and walk out. But not before saying 'sorry' to the staff. So yeah, witnessed quite a few crimes, but to be honest, Blockbuster's a massive company and, as one theif pointed out, they've got insurance for stuff like this (as he was walking out with an armful of rolos). Me and my best mate quit that job after 3 years, the afternoon before it was professionally done over. Phone lines cut, safe blown open, the lot. We heard about it the next day and went down to investigate to find our ex-manager asking 'What the fuck are you doing here?'. We went upstairs to see the safe blown up because we'd never seen anything like that before. It was quality! And on top of the safe was a very very very slightly singed fiver. All of us in the car afterwards said something along the lines of, 'see that fiver on top? Reckon you could still use that.' Turns out the manager thought it was us until I pointed out that both me and my mate still had our shop keys and knew the alarm and safe codes. Still think about that fiver. It could've changed my life
(Visionaryofthe1980s www.myspace.com/visionariesofthe1980s, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:23, 1 reply)

Crimes, I've seen a few...
In a lifetime in Salford, the following crimes I've seen;
12 Schoolies stealing,
11 Drunken drivers,
10 counts of arson,
9 burning Metros,
8 pikey muggings,
7 senseless kickings,
6 lewd conducts,
Fiiive Drun-ken Brawls!
4 brutal stabbings,
3 paedo teachers,
2 battered housewives,
And my bike which was stolen from me!

Apologies for the Christmas-like song, but I needed something cheery to suppress the memories of that lost bike. *sniff*
(Psycorp603, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:20, 3 replies)

Wife beating
Not me, a mate:
Went out on the lash in Liverpool with my mate, Big Fat Kev, a couple of years back. After merely a few ales, we decided to go our separate ways as we had work the next day and it was fast approaching daybreak.

As Big Fat Kev is weebling his way home, he spots a scally bloke kicking the living shite our of some bird. Like giving her a proper shoeing.

Big Fat Kev, being the chivalrous sort, decides to intervene and ploitely asks the guy to stop twatting this woman, shouting "Fuckin stop it, yer'll fucking kill 'er, ye fucking knobhead!" and grabs the bloke.

Bloke sticks the head on Big Fat Kev and a small altercation ensues, which quickly results in Big Fat Kev holding the bloke with one hand and punching him in his semi-concious head repeatedly with the other hand.

Half way through this bout of street justice, Big Fat Kev hears from behind him "Gerroff me fella, y'cunt!" and turns in time to receive a half brick in the face from the previously rolling around the floor being kicked woman.

As he sat in the gutter, holding his freshly broken cheek, Big Fat Kev observed the battered bird half carrying her semi-concious attacker away, shouting "don't y'fuckin come near me fuckin husband again, or I'll fucking kill yeh"

Scouse birds, eh?
(ScousersPet, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:18, 5 replies)

Not me but a friend...
Was awoken one night by a noise coming from outside. He looked out of the window to see a guy had broken into his shed. So called the police. They said that they had no officers available to come out right now.
"Fine!" he said "I'll just go shoot the bastard!"

By the time he had got downstairs. The street was swarming with armed response cars, police and a helicopter overhead.

When quizzed, the copper said "I thought you said you had a gun!" in which he replied "And I thought you said you had no one available!"






Sorry a fitting joke for this QOTW!
(Miggyman, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:14, 9 replies)

Catching criminals...
I remember one day when I was about 10, playing in the school playing fields, heard a crash and assumed it was someone sticking stuff in the bottle bank round the corner (as you would)
Fast forwards 10 minutes when someone has to run down to the school and collect an errant football, and finds a nice big hole in the window and two lovely chaps in the school.

Being young and against crime in any way (though I would probably do the same now anyway) we scarpered quickly round to a mates house and phoned the police, then hung around to see what happened.

In the end I believe the two chaps legged it, to be caught further down the road.
They did tell me all about what would happen if the case were to go to court and how I would be safe and hidden and so on, but in the end nothing more was heard about it.

Quite an exciting day for a 10 year old really...
(442, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:13, Reply)

today
I witnessed the following:

7 drivers on their mobile phones whilst driving.etc.
40-50 drivers speeding.
5 or 6 drivers undertaking.
4 or 5 'dangerous' incidents or at least what looked like the could be.
Numerous instances of not using indicators.
1 child not in a child seat, standing up in the back seat facing backwards (a heinous crime and one that should result in the parents being fucking crucified in my opinion).
2 jumping of red lights
3 or 4 brake lights not working
1 headlamp not working
2 overtaking on double white/hatching.

All in about 25 minutes on 2 motorways and 5 miles of A roads. This was probably a normal-low number of incidents day.
Number of police officers/cars seen in the vicinty of my journey during the last 5 years? Probably 1. Getting breakfast at a drive thru McDonalds.

Yes i'm a bit old and grumpy to notice all this but seriously, how many crimes must be being committed on the roads alone, over the course of a day, and countrywide? I cannot fathom.

We are a nation of criminals. I wholeheartedly support traffic/speed cameras when appropriate - and the really nasty 'averaging' ones at that - i love the fact they get people too fucking stupid to understand what that means!, traffic police, traffic calming, random stops and inspections and more frequent and higher fines.

Those who bang on about "victimisation of drivers" are people who seem to think that they can break the law if they dont like that law. I hope you all go to prison and therefore are totally unable to run me or my family down. I can fucking manage, so can you.

And just what is it about the BMW drivers? Without exception - all fucking shockingly bad drivers.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:13, 18 replies)

I grew up in South Africa...
So I have witnessed a thing or two. Here are a few:

1) Our local shopkeeper had his head blown off minutes before we arrived at the shop.Got there in time to see the ambulance leaving.

2) my local train station was closed due to an ongoing turf war at the taxi rank outside. I heard all the AK47 gunfire from my house and like a stupid kid I got on my bike to go there and check it out. Cue lots of dead people slumped over steering wheels. The area was sealed off so I didn't get close enough to see it in all its glory details, but the news later that evening did an adequate job of showing it all.

3) I witnessed my mate set fire to a building site 'accidentally'. Cue much aggro and a stint in the cells for the evening. On this occasion I was innocent.

4) Our usual route home from school was closed due to an 'earlier shootout'. Swung by on our bikes just in case there was anything worth seeing and spotted a blood soaked blanket from one of the victims and a lot of bullet holes in the wall.

5) Came back to our cars after a night out in Cape Town and of the 6 cars there all but one was broken into. We phoned the police and while we were waiting discovered a case of beer in the boot of my mates car. By the time the cops arrived we were pretty sozzled and blasting out music from my mates car and dancing in the street. They did the mandatory questioning and then told us to wait there while they went and spoke to some people. They drove off and returned about 10 minutes later both wearing sunglasses that looked suspiciously familiar. Turns out they were in fact our glasses that they had managed to retrieve from the kids at the local stray childrens home. By that time we were so wasted that we didn't care anymore and we having a great party in the street. We even managed a group photo with the cops with them wearing our glasses and us completely pissed holding our amstel lagers.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:12, 1 reply)

Crazy Kebab Men
Many moons ago, we used to have a cool smoking spot near some flats which looked out over our local high street. It was from here one night we witnessed a ruck in the kebab shop between 2 of it's workers.

Using those big long knives they use to cut the meat off the doner.

It was rather amusing watching 2 men really trying not to get hit with these things, whilst trying to seriously injure the other. Swordsmen they were not.

One of them finally hit home, leaving the other to lurch off down the street Igor style.

We did what all true stoners do, and ambled off in the other direction, seeking biscuits from the 24hr garage.

Length? about 3 foot of stainless steel with a yellow plastic handle.
(Reverend Samson Fapohunda B3tan, B3tan, B3tan, B3tan, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:07, 1 reply)

I'd heard about it umpteen times
but never actually seen it, until a week or two ago, when I actually saw an expensive BMW driven by two black blokes that had been pulled over by armed police.

I know it's not really on topic, but until then I'd wondered if it was just a cliche/urban legend that this happened. It rather satisfied me to see that the police can live up to their reputation in terms of being discriminatory bastards.



In other news, I recently accidently mentioned to one of my (now ex-)housemates that the banging noises we could hear from our flat were gunshots, not fireworks, and then had to work reasonably hard to convince her I was joking in order to prevent excessive panic.
(Bearded Whumpus In chav Britain, schoolgirl offers sweets to YOU!, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:06, 4 replies)

Chav assault and vigilante justice.
A year or two ago, three of us were getting a take-away pizza one night. The shop being the only thing open for a couple of miles around, it seems to attract youngsters and usually has a few chavs mooching outside.

As we were leaving, another car pulled up outside with 3 or 4 teenagers in. Apparently there was a bit of 'unfinished business' between the driver and 'head chav' as a few cans of cheapo booze were launched at the car, then 'head chav' attempted to drag the driver out to the soundtrack of several inebriated harpies who had now surrounded the car.

In the process of escape, the driver clipped a couple of the harpies as he drove off. The brunt of the damage was inflicted on 'head chav' though. As driver had reversed (hastily) from the parking spot to flee the attack, he'd somehow knocked his assailant to the ground in such a position to be in the path of his dramatic exit wheelspin.

'Head chav' squealed like a little girl. For quite a while. Well, until we'd driven off too.

EDIT: Sounds more serious than it was, 'Head chav's legs went under (and round) the front right wheel. One leg seemed to go around the wheel-arch a couple of times. I think he may have ahd a sprained ankle or worse.
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:05, Reply)

My One and Only 'Jackie Chan' Moment...
One night, a few years ago, the girlfriend of the time and I were walking back to my house after a long shift in the restaurant. It was about 1 o’clock in the morning, and the cold Yorkshire night wrapped around us, a light fog coating the air.

The house I lived in at the time was a huge Georgian affair; it had seven bedrooms and seven students living in it. It was also conveniently placed at the rear of Manygates Student Village, so a quick leap over the fence meant we could get to the union bar nice and quickly. Anyway, the house was at the bottom of a long, rough lane, which had no lamplights or any other such luxuries.

As I mentioned before, there were seven people living in the house, and as such there were quite a few cars parked on the drive outside. There had been a spate of thefts from these cars – only days earlier my window had been put in and my CD’s stolen.

Coming around the gate, I noticed that the door to one of my flatmates car was open. This wasn’t immediately unusual; there was often some kind of late night shenanigans going on at the weekend. She was probably grabbing something out of there before heading back in. I crept up to the car, planning to scare the living bejesus out of her, and poked my head in the doorway.

Just as I was drawing breath to yell, I saw that it wasn’t my flatmate rummaging around on the back seat. It was a young, bald male rifling through her things.

As I’ve said before, I’m not the violent type. But thieving really disgusts me, and I saw red. I pulled my head out of the car, gripped the roof with both hands, and swung my feet inside and kicked the fucker twice, once in the kidneys and one (I think) in the back of the neck.

I stepped out of the car, and took stock of the situation. I had kicked someone – and he would be mad, and possibly have all kinds of strange and interesting weaponry about him. At this point, he unfolded himself from the car.

My resolve faded. Not only was he bigger than me, he looked pissed. There was a tense stand off as we stared at each other; I could see his hands twitching as he contemplated whether it would be worth the scrap or not. In the end, after what felt like an hour, I shouted:

“Well? FUCK OFF, THEN!”

And he did. I ran inside, called the police, and to their credit they were at the house in less than 10 minutes (to the backdrop of seven students manically trying to hide the dope). They took a description, and less than half an hour later, they were back with him in the back seat of their car, for me to identify him.

There’s a couple of post-scripts to this story. Firstly, the guy who was doing the thieving pressed assault charges on me, though thankfully they were later dropped. The cunt, he got what he deserved. Secondly, a year later, he was caught breaking in to cars in the student campus next door. Strangely, I was involved again, and this time I found out he was armed, as he tried to stab a friend of mine who was pinning him down until security turned up. The police came (again), and we never saw him again after that.
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:02, 2 replies)

discerning burglars
My basement flat was broken into. I came home to find my flatmate looking stunned and the window looking broken.

"We've been burgled!" she gasped.

"What did they take?" I asked.

She reeled off a list of valuables - jewellery, hi-fi, cash. Sure enough, mine were gone too.

"They went through my CDs and only picked out the ones they liked!" she wailed.

I checked my own CD collection. They had left it in its entirety. Fuck you, burglars! It's not shite, it's eclectic!
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:02, 5 replies)

" *Shakes head in sadness at the human condition* "
[Sorry, this isn't funny, but it IS very relevant]

Look up the 'Kitty Geneovese Syndrome' on that Wikipedia.

Basically, it seems very natural to Homo Sapiens that, when people are among large numbers of strangers, they *won't* make the first move.

They won't be the first to leave the room if there's a fire alarm.
They won't go to help a stranger being attacked (or broken down or ill).
They won't call the police when a young woman is being stabbed.

People have a STRONG 'herd mentality' / propensity not to change what they are doing without leadership.

In the King's Cross tube disaster, this 'isolation' effect led to people ignoring the Staff, pushing past, getting onto a smouldering escalator and riding up into the inferno in the ticket hall. Where they died a horrible death.

If you're reading this, please go through life prepared to react to fire alarms _before_ others do.
Be ready to see if people need help, even if you risk looking foolish.

React as a rational being, not by following primitive urges.

Yes, there are risks to being involved, but the alternative is what happened to Kitty Genovese.

Hoddy
(Hoddy, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:02, 3 replies)

My Dad
When I was a lot younger, maybe 6 or 7, we were going to McDonalds to get some grub on a Saturday night. We pulled up over the road and got out just as a group of blokes started kicking this young fellas head in. Luckily there was a Police Station over the road which my dad ran us over to immediately. It all would have been dealt with a lot quicker if my old man wasnt such a well spoken arse.

Dad: (To the desk sergeant) There's an altercation occuring over the road.
Desk Sergeant: A what sir?
Dad: An altercation. It looks rather sickening and my kids are rather shaken up. Could you please go and sort it out?
Desk Sergeant: Im sorry sir, I still dont know what you mean.
Dad: An altercation Officer.
*Officer phones to the back of the station and requests someone to come and look*
The other Policeman came out and went with my father to see what was happening. He belts back in straight away and shouts
"Phil, there's a bloke getting his bloody head kicked in over the road by 4 blokes! Get a couple of others!"

My twat of a Dad Ladies and Gentlemen :)
( Redsushi! Whoop! Whoop! Yes, that one!, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 13:01, Reply)

Nasty Scrap
One night when I lived and loved in Middlesbrough I was walking a young lady back to my flat when we heard a commotion at the other side of Linthorpe Road, the main thoroughfare. I saw a an argument between a fairly small but wirey white bloke and a massive black fella. The black fella swung for the other guy. Bearing in mind that Linthorpe road is quite wide (and risky to cross) we clearly heard the crunch of the poor bloke's cheekbone shattering from the other side of the street.
There was no way in Hell's hottest furnace was I trotting across there to help the guy out!
( Boss Keloid Got your mother's maiden name tattooed on my arm, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 12:58, Reply)

Elsewhere in Sheffield
I used to live in a council flat. My next door neighbour, a charming middle-aged afrocarribean was the local dealer of skunk, the smell of which used to penetrate through into my bathroom and kitchen. Nice.

One Sunday morning I went for the papers and saw someone breaking OUT of his flat through the front door.

I said a cheery 'good morning' and went on my way. Sometimes intervention is not the best policy.
(misspiggy In danger of having to get a job, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 12:58, Reply)

Vigilante Santas!
On Christmas Eve about two years ago, me and five mates decided to dress up as Santa and do a pub crawl round the town, and after a couple of hours drinking we were on our way through the town and noticed an rather large group of people gathered outside Boots, so we wandered over like the Santa mafia and had a mooch and there was some crackhead goin nuts at one of the boots staff (a lovely young lady called Sophie as we later found out) and those guy was totally jacked up and REALLY going postal at this poor lass, the crowd of people had gathered to watch! standing at the door watching this twat yelling and (trying) to hit this poor girl! we couldnt believe it! so we pushed our way through and entered the shop and dragged this prick out by his arms and legs and dumped him on the floor outside the shop, to this day i still chuckle about it, this guy is out of his face on drugs and he gets thrown (literally) out of a shop and when he looks up he spots a load of Santas telling him to fuck off and not to come back (or he'd get a piece of coal that year) he got up and ran off round the back of the shop straight into the arms of a copper who had been called previously and was promptly arrested.

Spot on!
(The Reverend annoying the regulars since, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 12:57, 4 replies)

sick burglars
One Sunday night sitting at home feeling sorry for myself due to a bout of flu I managed to drag myself out of bed, into the kitchen - which for point of reference is on the second floor at the back of the house - and make a bowl of soup and some toast. I was watching Batman Returns on 5 and it was still only about 7 or 8 'o' clock.

While munching on my toast I heard a noise at the front door downstairs. Now, I live with three others so there's a fair amount of coming and going. Then I heard a smashing noise.

Instinctivly I got up and went for a look. From the top of the stairs I saw two trackie wearing neds who'd closed themselves in between our front door and storm doors then one had smashed the glass down the side of the front door and was undoing the yale.
"Oi" I shouted and then "Fuck off". Both turned around and scrabbled to get out past the storm doors they'd closed over themselves. I went down to the door, had a look outside to see if I could see them then went back in a called the police. Reported the attempted break in then went for another look at the door.

Sunday is a night we'd usually be out at the cinema and I assumed that's where everyone was when I was the only one to hear anything. But I also thought I better check the downstairs rooms incase they'd tried to break any windows etc. First groundfloor room is empty, second ground floor room has flatmate D in it reading a book on his bed.

"Alright D" I say. "Hear any unusual noises?"

"Nope, nothing".

"Well a couple of guys just tried to break in but don't worry about it I saw them off"

"Noooooo waaaay!" Up like a shot to inspect the broken glass.
(cannonfodder fodder for cannons on, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 12:54, Reply)

a woman I know
left her bike locked up on a busy street, full of cafes with outdoor tables. A couple of people cut her lock with bolt cutters and stole it - and nobody saw it.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 12:54, Reply)

Following on....
Also while I was living at the aforementioned flat I heard the unmistakeable sound of a large shop window being broken. I got up and did the responsible thing and called the police, who only appeared to be interested in taking down my details. Eventually, about 40 minutes later they showed up, far too late to do any good.

They were quick enough, however, when I left my car outsid on a yellow line for 5 minutes.
Best not get me started on crap police - I could fill this whole QOTW twice over.
(misspiggy In danger of having to get a job, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 12:53, Reply)

Well
I didn't witness the crime in question, but I did aid the police.

I saw that the Air Ambulance had landed on a cricket field I walk past on the way to the pub, and a couple of seconds after noticing it a man bellowed "STOP!" from behind me.

I turn around, and there's a stocky bald bloke running towards me. He waves a police badge at me (turns out he's a plain-clothes officer) and asks me to help him get to the housing estate on the other side of the cricket pitch because he doesn't know the one-way system well.

We run back to his unmarked Ford Focus estate and put the sirens and lights on (they're hidden behind the grill, and the headlamps flash, pretty cool) and tear off, getting to 60 in a 30 zone. It turned out someone had been stabbed, but I never heard anything else about it in the paper or anything.

Anyway, that was a pretty cool experience. Made me think I was the Sweeney.
( mr_wicksy is.... old., Thu 14 Feb 2008, 12:52, Reply)

I was walking through the centre of Canberra
when I saw two groups of yooves, standing a safe distance from each other, engaging in fighting talk.

I was very tempted to stand in the middle, make 'calm down' gestures, and say "guys, guys...you're all cunts."
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 12:49, Reply)

Sheffield
When I was about 20 I lived above a shop on a busy main road (Ecclesall Rd, if you know the place). To get to my flat you had to go down a passage to get to the stairs at the back.
I arrived home late one Saturday night from a gig clutching my guitar and a curry take-away to find this passageway full of urinating drunks. When I asked them to move they started pushing me around and shouting and threw my food into the road. I was trying to protect my guitar and kick as many as I could. Eventually the bus came and they caught it. What annoyed me the most was that there were a lot of people passing by and not one thought to intervene, as though 6 or so drunk men beating up a girl was acceptable.
I was disgusted, and this was a long time ago when things weren't as dangerous as they are now.

Sorry, not funny.

Edit: just read some of the other posts - it appears this type of thing is rather common.
(misspiggy In danger of having to get a job, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 12:46, 3 replies)

Neighbourhood What
Amazing the amount of people on a summer evening in my home village two years ago who didn't see a bar fight spill into the street, who didn't see a drunk guy try to hit my mum as she avoided the brawl, who didn't see my 60 year old dad with a bad heart get punched in the face, fall to the ground and get his ankle stamped on so that it shattered and he was in hospital for two weeks and a wheelchair for three months and now walks with a stick and avoids crowds and is generally freaked out by it all. The unknown (to them) guy who did it was found guilty of GBH and was sentenced to 40 hours community service. My dad is disabled for life.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 12:45, 2 replies)

a remarkable day
I was sitting in a street cafe in Portugal enjoying an iced coffee when a shady-looking character sidled up to me and offered me some class A drugs. In a flash, a team of undercover policemen wrestled him to the ground and arrested him. A black, unmarked van took him away.

Blimey! I thought. A real life crime! But at that very moment a man of the Arab persuasion ran screaming from a shop with a bandolier of explosives around his chest. He screamed "Allah Akbar Jihad!" and made to blow up the entire street. But a group of undercover policemen shot him seven times between the eyes and threw his corpse into another unmarked black van.

Lordy! I thought. Imagine the chances of that! I turned to remark upon the fact to my immediate neighbour, a bald man stroking a white cat and speaking with an indistinct foreign accent into a skull-shaped microphone: "You will pay us ten billion dollars or reap the revenge of nuclear apocalypse!"

Before I could do a thing, a man in a dinner jacket abseiled from a helicopter and engaged in 20 minutes of dramatic hand-to-hand combat before dispatching the bald man and his cat by throwing them into a wood shredder. Blood sprayed everywhere.

I was shocked. I turned to my other side and saw a small man in a uniform barking orders in German to his mobile. He had a small moustache and was waving his arms around something rotten! I could only make out the words "untermenschen" and "Juden." A few weeks later the Mediterranean had been conquered in a blitzkrieg attack and the Semites of Europe carted off to who knows where.

I left without paying.
(frankspencer, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 12:38, 6 replies)