Police Funnies

Coalition designed Police traffic car

I get so irritated when people come down on our police officers, saying that they don’t care about others.

Well, here is a story that clearly shows not all policemen are in that category.

This story involves the Police Service in Nottingham, who reported finding a man's body last Saturday in the early evening in the Nottingham Canal, near the London Road bridge.

The dead man’s name will not be released until his family had been notified.

The victim apparently drowned due to excessive beer consumption while visiting "someone" in a Nottingham Red Light area.

He was wearing black fishnet stockings, a red garter belt, a pink G-string, purple lipstick, and a 'I Support the Lib-Dem Party T-shirt'.

The police removed the  'I Support the Lib-Dem Party T-shirt' to spare his family any unnecessary embarrassment.

See there, the police do care!

Toilet Seats Stolen:

All the toilet seats at the police station were stolen.

The thief is still at large, the police are having a time figuring it out, and they have nothing to go on!

In the Ladies changing rooms:

A hole has appeared in the ladies changing rooms at the sports club, 

Police are looking into it.

Stolen Wigs:

A van-load of wigs were stolen yesterday - 

Police are combing the area for clues.

Questioning the Prostitutes:

While in the back of a police car, one of the policemen asks a couple of prostitutes:

"Have you ever been picked up by the fuzz before?"

One of them replied, "No, but I've been swung around by the tits!"

Police Officers George & Mary on Patrol:

Police officers George and Mary, had been assigned to walk the beat.

They had only been out a short while when Mary said, "Damn, I was running late this morning after my workout and after I showered, I forgot to put on my panties! We have to go back to the station to get them."

George replied, "We don't have to go back, just give the K-9 unit, Fido, one sniff, and he will go fetch them for you!"

It was a hot day and Mary didn't fell like heading back to the station, so she lifted her skirt for the dog. Fido's nose shoots between her legs, sniffing and snorting.

After 10 seconds of sniffing, Fido's ears pick up, he sniffs the wind, and he is off in a flash towards the station house.

Five minutes go by and no sign of Fido.

Ten minutes pass, and the dog is nowhere to be seen.

Fifteen minutes pass, and they are starting to worry.

Twenty minutes pass, and they hear sirens in the distance.

The sirens get louder and louder.

Suddenly, followed by a dozen police cars, Fido rounds the corner with the Desk Sergeant's underpants in his mouth!

Finnegan's Wife:

His wife had been killed in an accident and the police were questioning Finnegan.

"Did she say anything before she died?" asked the sergeant.

"She spoke without interruption for about forty years," said the Irishman.

The Complaint:

Dear Sir/madam/automated telephone answering service

Having spent the past twenty minutes waiting for someone at Nottingham's Canning Circus police station to pick up a telephone I have decided to abandon the idea and try e-mailing you instead. Perhaps you would be so kind as to pass this message on to your colleagues in Nottingham by means of smoke signal, carrier pigeon or Ouija board.

As I’m writing this e-mail there are eleven failed medical experiments (I think you call them youths) in West Cromwell Street which is just off Commercial Street in  Nottingham.

Six of them seem happy enough to play a game which involves kicking a football against an iron gate with the force of a meteorite. This causes an earth shattering CLANG! which rings throughout the entire building.

This game is now in it’s third week and as I am unsure how the scoring system works, I have no idea if it will end any time soon.

The remaining five walking abortions are happily rummaging through several bags of rubbish and items of furniture that someone has so thoughtfully dumped beside the wheelie bins. One of them has found a saw and is setting about a discarded chair like a beaver on speed. I fear that it’s only a matter of time before they turn their limited attention to the bottle of calor gas that is lying on it’s side between the two bins. If they could be relied on to only blow their own arms and legs off then I would happily leave them to it. I would even go so far as to lend them the matches. Unfortunately they are far more likely to blow up half the street with them and I’ve just finished decorating the kitchen.

What I suggest is this. after replying to this e-mail with worthless assurances that the matter is being looked into and will be dealt with, why not leave it until the one night of the year (probably bath night) when there are no mutants around then drive up the street in a panda car before doing a three point turn and disappearing again. This will of course serve no other purpose than to remind us what policemen actually look like.

I trust that when I take a clawhammer to the skull of one of these throwbacks you’ll do me the same courtesy of giving me a four month head start before coming to arrest me.

I remain sir, your obedient servant

Bartholomew Utterswaithe

Police response:

Mr Utterswaithe,

I have read your e-mail and understand you frustration at the problems caused by youth playing in the area and the problems you have encountered in trying to contact the police.

As the Community Beat Officer for your street I would like to extend an offer of discussing the matter fully with you.

Should you wish to discuss the matter, please provide contact details (address / telephone number) and when may be suitable.

Regards

PC Baverstock

Community Beat Officer

Complainer’s reply:

Dear PC Baverstock.

First of all I would like to thank you for the speedy response to my original e-mail. 16 hours and 38 minutes must be a personal record for Nottingham Police station and rest assured that I will forward these details to Norris McWhirter for inclusion in his next book.

Secondly I was delighted to hear that our street has it’s own community beat officer. May I be the first to congratulate you on your covert skills. In the five or so years I have lived in West Cromwell Street, I have never seen you.

Do you hide up a tree or have you gone deep undercover and infiltrated the gang itself? Are you the one with the acne and the moustache on his forehead or the one with a chin like a wash hand basin? It’s surely only a matter of time before you are headhunted by MI5.

Whilst I realise that there may be far more serious crimes taking place in  Nottingham, such as smoking in a public place or being Muslim without due care and attention, is it too much to ask for a policeman to explain (using words of no more than two syllables at a time) to these twats that they might want to play their strange football game elsewhere?

The pitch behind the Citadel or the one at DKs are both within spitting distance as is the bottom of the Nottingham canal.

Should you wish to discuss these matters further you should feel free to contact me on 0115 9626648.

If after 25 minutes I have still failed to answer, I’ll buy you a large one in the Bell Inn.

Regards

Bartholomew Utterswaithe

P.S If you think that this is sarcasm, think yourself lucky that you don’t work for the cleansing department.

Police arrested two teenagers yesterday

One was drinking battery acid, the other was eating fireworks.

They charged one and let the other one off.

The undrunk drunk

One night a police officer was staking out a particularly rowdy bar for possible drunken driving violations. At closing time, he saw a fellow stumble out of the bar, trip on the curb and try his keys on five different cars before he found his.

The man sat in the front seat fumbling around with his keys for several minutes.
Meanwhile, all the other patrons left the bar and drove off. Finally he started his engine and began to pull away.

The police officer was waiting for him.

As soon as he pulled onto the street, the officer stopped him, read him his rights and administered the breathalyser test to determine his blood-alcohol content.

The results showed a reading of zero.

The puzzled officer demanded to know how that could be.

The driver replied, "Tonight I'm the designated decoy!"

Tacks

Driving to work, a gentlman had to swerve to avoid a box that fell out of a truck in front of him. Seconds later, a policeman pulled him over for reckless driving.

Fortunately, another officer had seen the carton in the road.

The policemen stopped traffic and recovered the box.

It was found to contain thousands of large upholstery tacks.
"I'm sorry sir," the first trooper told the driver, "But I am still going to have to do you!"

Amazed, the driver asked for what.
The Officer replied, "Tacks evasion!"