The Worst 'C' Word of Them All

No, it's not cunt.

Nowadays, there's one word we hear all the time, every day, on TV adverts, in our work places and on the news. The word has become twisted and its morphed into a word I hate more than any other. What is the word? What is this terrible, terrible string of letters?

Compensation.

I know, it's not got the same impact as cunt but for me I would much prefer for someone to call me a cunt than to mention compensation in my presence. I will start by saying that I have, in the past, had compensation when I was involved in a motorcycle accident so this probably makes me a complete hypocrite. I will however explain the difference in that 'compensation' and c*mpensation.

At the start of 2007 I had the misfortune of being knocked off my motorcycle by a careless old man. I don't have any ill feelings towards him because it was an accident, exaggerated by the fact that he was really quite old.Plus I made it away alive. He was also very courteous after the accident and admitted his error; something which most modern business types would not dream of doing in a million years. When I was knocked off my bike I damaged my right shoulder and this still occasionally gives my jip. In addition to this, my bike was quite damaged. So, I was 'compensated' by his insurance covering the cost of repairs and 'compensated' by having a payout to cover the damaged jacket, helmet and my shoulder.

This form of compensation comes from the insurance company who will only cover the cost of things that have been damaged and injuries that have a lasting effect. My shoulder does occasionally hurt and may cause problems in later life but its nothing I can't cope with and I got about £3000 for that part of the claim. The reason I don't think I'm a hypocrite is because this cost is not based on any bullshit personal stress or anything, just the cost of the potential surgery I may have to endure in the future to correct it. So, really, I am no better off than I was before the accident. We are even. I am compensated.

What I hate is when people claim c*mpensation for things that have caused nothing but a mild inconvenience to them or when they claim for their precious time which they would've spent complaining anyway. That's the sad truth: there are people out there who actually enjoy complaining. Anotherthin that ticks me off is when people request c*mpensation for their own idiocy. It was an idea that began in America when fat people started to sue McDonald's and it's culminated in people over here suing for everything from slipping on a grape to walking into walls and falling down manholes.

Peter Griffin from Family Guy demonstrates a way of getting more compensation.

It occurred to me the other day how much these things are affecting society. Just walking down the street made me realise how we now have to have signs warning about every potential hazard that our own self preservation impulse should protect against. If someone needs a sign to tell them to duck or to step down or to not cross a street or to not walk into something then they shouldn't be alive. I hate to sound like Hitler but it's contaminating the genepool. Idiots -- during prehistoric times -- would not have survived and as a result their idiocy wouldn't have been passed onto future generations. Unfortunately we can no longer seperate the wheat from the chaff.

The three things I saw that made me realise how stupid society has become were:

1. Foam around scaffolding. With all probability this means that at some point some stupid bastard has walked into the metal strutts. Instead of walking off in shame, they must have tried to sue over their idiocy. This is only a recent thing.
   
2. A sign saying 'low ceiling'. We see these all the time. Presumably a tall person has completely ignored their eyes and walked face first into the ceiling when descending stairs. Fool.
   
3. My inability to purchase toy guns. I know this seems silly, but I trekked around town for two hours trying to find a shop that sells toy guns for a halloween costume. Fucking impossible. When I finally found somewhere that sold them, they were bright green with a big red bell end on the tip of them, as if the green wasn't enough to prove that they weren't real guns.

The last was particularly upsetting because it made me feel sorry for modern kids. When I was younger I used to play army, with realistic cap guns (some were even metal), smoke grenades and -- admittedly a bit silly --  home-made rocket launchers made of drainpipes which fired fireworks. But, if my crotch had been fireworked or if my capgun had exploded in my face I wouldn't have dreamed of suing anyone. Nowerdays kids can't play army unless they want to go out and purchase a Fisher Price Happy Bubble Gun or a Barbie Confetti Launcher. And we wonder why most kids nowerdays just do smack and beat up old people.

This is not my proudest admission, but when I was 10 years old I owned a helecopter toy that launched from a plastic helipad when you pulled a cord. I was stupid enough to want an overhead view and the plastic helecopter flew straight into my right eye. I had to endure the embarrassment of sitting in an eye clinic and having my name read out followed by my condition: "A helecopter flew in his eye."

The nurse then said with deplorable expectancy, "Oh, I hope it wasn't a real helecopter." Her wit was unbelievable and the laugh she got from the rest of the patients probably made her day. If I wasn't 10 I would've said, "It felt fucking real to me. I didn't ask for Krusty the Clown to see to me so get me a real nurse or shut the fuck up."

So, I ended up with a patch on my eye for a month (this was before Johnny Depp murdered our perception of pirates and made everyone think they were cool) so I looked like a tit. The comments, "Where's your parrot Blackbeard" still live with me to this day... but did I sue? Did I claim c*mpensation? No! I learned some valuable lessons:

• Don't get an overhead view of any helecopter taking off, even a toy one.
  
• If you're going to make a 10 year old feel better don't do it by making him feel like a tit and look like a tit.
• Pirates are not cool and despite what Deadliest Warrior says, a knight would kick a pirates scurvy-ridden effeminate arse*
• Always remember the person that called you Blackbeard and make sure you remind everyone of the time he went through a whole swimming lesson with a bollock sticking out the side of his swimming trunks.

My point is valid. I work in customer care (well, complaints) and I have to deal with the 'c' word every single day from many people who do not have any reason to make such a request. If you humour these people and give in to their demands you are effectively helping to contaminate the human race. Resolve the issue and offer a gesture for the problem, yes, but negotiating some ridiculous demand? Not a chance. I'm doing the world a favour.

As a final note, if you are one of these people who likes to complain or complains to get all you can and think there is nothing wrong with this, I ask you one thing:

When you're screaming and shouting down the phone at someone, demanding something you don't deserve for something that was in all probability your fault, what about the poor bastard listening to you? You may say it's their job to be treated like shit, but it's not. They're there to help, to fix the issue but not to fill your wallet.

And you're not going to get c*mpensation by acting like a cunt.






--DEADLIEST WARRIOR SPOILER--

* I mention the pirate vs. knight episode because I am a fan of the TV show. It is ridiculous in many ways, but its fun and seems to be suprisingly accurate. However the episode where a pirate beats a knight should be petitioned against and removed from TV.

Why I Get Depressed Whilst Watching 'Star Trek'

No, it's not because it's shit. In fact, I actually quite like Star Trek. It's ridiculous in many ways, but its an entertaining and fairly optimistic view of the future. You see, I get depressed not only because it's unlikely we'll ever be that unified as a planet, but because space is no longer a frontier anyone is interested in.

The truth is, space is bloody interesting. In fact, the origins of life will probably only be found by exploring space. To quote a popular science fiction show: "life here began out there". What depresses me is that we are no longer investing the money and efforts into exploring space. Quite simply, it is too expensive and too dangerous and not profitable enough. If we found an oil field on Mars then this would obviously change, but until such monetary horizons arise, we will be stuck on this planet with everyone else.

It's the figures that depress me the most. You just have to look through a telescope to understand the vastness of the universe. You look at the Andromeda Galaxy, that bright swirling mass in the sky and our nearest spiral galaxy... that's 2.2 million light years away. When we look at that galaxy, we are seeing the galaxy as it was before humans even walked on Earth. So even if we could travel at the speed of light -- which we can't -- then it would take 2.2 million light years to get there. So, even that massive concentration of stars and planets which undoubtedly has at least one planet capable of supporting life is too far away.

(Andromeda galaxy, courtesy of NASA)

Recently a planet of possible Earth-like properties was discovered in the Gliese 581 system, 20.5 light years away. Compared to the Andromeda Galaxy, that seems to be right on our doorstep but with our current technology it would take over 200 years to arrive at that system. So, it seems people have just given up on that too. And, even if we were to find a way to travel faster than light, we would also need to invent a computer capable of predicting the shift of the stars and the movements of interstellar bodies to make a 'jump' safe. In theory, using subspace or a form of teleportation would be (in the very, very distant future) possible. But to do so would require expedential amounts of energy and a quantum computer capable of performing calculations in different dimensions. So, we would have to invent a reactor, a teleporter (or subspace drive) and a computer to prevent the vessel from 'jumping' into the middle of a star. It all seems too much. Currently the focus seems to be back on the moon which we first set foot upon back in 1969 so why do we need to go back?.. Probably because it's far safer than aiming for Mars or anywhere else.

(Gliese 581c, illustration by Karen Wehrstein, courtesty of NASA)


My Dad is always saying how the people of the 60's and 70's thoroughly expected that we would have a moon base and be walking on Mars fighting Mysterons and sexing it up with green ladies by now but instead we're stuck on this world with more unemployed, more crime and less hope than ever before. Health and safety and greed has now restricted the world of scientific exploration and ground all hopes of exploring space to a near halt.

Yeah, we can't yet travel faster than light but why are we not trying to look at other methods of space travel? I'm not a physicist so I have no idea what other possibilities could be explored but from watching numerous Star Trek episodes I suspect that wormholes, quantum teleportation or subspace drives may be at least worth investing some time and effort in, even if we are doomed to faliure. Afterall, it was the space race that bought about things that have changed our life on Earth. The microchip, velcro and Captain Scarlet are just some examples of the precious things we would be without if it were not for the space race.

But what provoked the space race? Well, America wanted to get to the moon before Russia. It was basically an international pissing contest. Maybe if Russia or China or Craplakistan declared that they were going to try to reach Mars, someone would get off their arses and try and get there first. At the end of the day, we probably have to revert to childish reasons such as money and racing to motivate mankind to better itself.

Another depressing thought is that of international unification. In Star Trek everyone on Earth loves each other. It's like one big international hippy festival and not one person is excluded. But surely this idea will never exist? Well, in honesty it could, but probably not through hard work and peace treaties. I suspect it would only work through war. The only time nations unify to any degree is when they are at war or threatened with war. When people have foreginers to hate, they don't have time to hate each other. So, we would only find world peace if we were threatened by an alien species or if they had something that we wanted which was worth going to war for. We need to 'seek out new life and new civilisations'... and then kick the snot out of them.

If aliens visited us, it would be likely that war would ensue anyway. Either the Duke of Edinburgh would meet with them and call them 'little grey people' or we would simply destroy our intelligent appearance by simply saying the words, "God bless you for visiting us." To which the aliens would undoubtedly reply, "What is God?" The explanation of which would either cause a bout of laughing or instant conflict. In reality:

• ET would be captured and forced to become a star of low budget midget porn.
• The 'Close Encounters of The Third Kind' aliens would leave after having their melodic greeting turned into the new 'Crazy Frog' remix before being blasted back at them.
• The alien chick from Species would succumb to chlymidia or AIDs following her own 'close encounters' with truckers and chavs.
• The Roswell aliens would just crash and die again. They've invented interstellar drives but seatbelts are far beyond them.
• The Aliens from Independence Day would assume they'd already visited Earth and attacked after looking down on Birmingham, Stoke and Sheffield.

Taking into account the above, it's probably best that we don't explore space as much as we could. Mankind is simply too stupid and too scared of change to be trusted with meeting other species. But that doesn't stop me thinking about the possibilities if only governments would allow people to take risks, make gambles and spend their money on things that might one day better mankind. If nothing else, we may find a little bit of evidence that shows how we came to be and where we are going as a species.

And that is a truly exciting prospect.

Why I Feel Sorry For British Gangs

It's a tough world we live in isn't it? The economic crisis we're only just crawling from has caused thousands of people to lose their jobs, their homes and their hope. There are now people working any jobs they can find; taking massive pay cuts and doing things they would've never considered before just so they can pay the bills. But apparently this is nothing compared to the plight of inner-city youths. They've apparently been in this economic spiral into the unknown for years. In fact, they've had to 'earn' everything they have now and work their way up from 'the streets'. The world has shat on them and they've had to revert to crime as it's the only option they have... isn't it?

No, it isn't. And anyone who thinks that crime is the only way out of poverty is a massive tit.

But that doesn't stop me from feeling a little bit sorry for these lowlifes. Why? Because they are forever tainted and stained and branded with being in British gangs. And let's face it, no matter what weapons they carry, what respect they beat out of people or what they deal or steal, they just won't be as cool as American gangs. And that's what it's all about. Getting something for nothing and looking cool whilst you do it.

American gangs live in places called 'The Bronx' and have cool names like 'The Bloods' and have easy access to firearms which they hold tilted to the side, which is also cool. In the UK, we have gangs that live in places that are named after flowers and meadows and other nice places. They don't have easy access to guns, in fact those firearms they carry tend to be old rusty pistols that look like something they've found in a car boot sale or 'Auntie Wainwrights' from the BBC's The Last of the Summer Wine. And don't even get me started on their names.

The two main gangs in the area I used to work were called 'The Burger Bar Boys' (Boys probably had a 'z' instead of an 's') and the 'Johnson Crew'. Not exactly the scariest names on the planet... in fact 'The Johnson Crew' sounds like a group of cartoon characters you'd see promoting safe sex on a school sex ed video.

I was once threatened by a gang of people who, I shit you not, warned me that I needed to leave the area as it was 'Honeysuckle Lane' territory. They had knives so I didn't argue, but I did laugh when at a suitably safe distance. It's just not as having territory in 'The Bronx'. In fact their main rivals are probably 'The Butterscotch Crescent Boyz'.

Now at this point some people are probably thinking that I'm trying to cover the serious issue of teenage gangs with humour but this is far from the truth. Hundreds of people are killed by gangs or in gang-related altercations each year in the UK so this is not a light-hearted subject. However, I do feel this is a problem the government is handling in the wrong way. Instead of going on about how serious and 'bad' it is to be involved in gangs, they should just get people to see the truth: British gangs will never be as cool as American gangs and you aren't going to become a rapper when you're from Whitton-on-Sea so why bother? Why not just get a normal job and live your life?

When a person enters into a gang they are going down a road that forks off into two eventualities: death or prison. That's it. There's no "I worked my way up from the streets to become a famous rapper", it's just death or being someone's bitch-boy in prison. I imagine it's hard to think of rap lyrics when 'Big Bubba' is making you his man-wife. It's only America that allows former gang leaders to become rap stars and even they can't escape their former life. 50 cent for instance. He's been shot 9 times. That proves two things:

1) Gangsters are crap shots
2) Nobody has ever liked 50 cent.

We need to start laughing at gangs a bit more. If we make them realise just how fucking stupid it is to think you can make a life out being a criminal, they may just stop... and get a normal job. Sure, it doesn't help with all the American rap stars pumping out songs about their 'money' and their 'bitches' but I'm sure common sense will eventually prevail.

Here's my realistic rap song titled 'Bubba's Wife':

I grew up in the streets on Whitton-on-Sea,
No respect from my bros or my family,
So I got my shit together and moved on out,
And lived in a hostel like a dirty lout.
Stealin' and dealin's what I did best,
You know that for the wicked there ain't no rest.
But life wasn't good on Honeysuckle lane,
Those boyz from the west side (shopping centre) were a constant pain.

Chorus
Pain, pain, there ain't no gain.
Makin' my way from the streets to fame.
(Streets to fame)
Pain, pain, it's part'a my life.
But I'm happy now I'm Bubba's wife.
(Bubba's wife)

So we had an altercation, a fierce confrontation:
a terrible gun fight in front of the bus station.
The rozzers got called and someone was hit,
I started runnin but I was in the shit.
The rozzers kicked me down, put me in my place,
They stamped on my body and stamped on my face.
I was taken to the cells and they found my stash,
My anus was searched by a man with a 'tache.

Chorus
Pain, pain, there ain't no gain.
Makin' my way from the streets to fame.
(Streets to fame)
Pain, pain, it's part'a my life.
But I'm happy now I'm Bubba's wife.
(Bubba's wife)

So I ain't no rapper; at least not with fame,
I'm in a cell and I'm away from my game.
I hate it here and I really wanna leave,
My assholes as big as a wizards sleeve.
I've lost my respect; I've not a single fan,
But that was before I met my man.
Now I hide my regrets; I don't wallow in strife,
Because I'm happy now I'm Bubba's wife.
 
I expect that to be the next Christmas number 1.
 
I hope y'all enjoyed it because I consider that to be a rap which sums up the life of most gangsters in Britain. In truth, there isn't a place on this little island for idiots like that.
 
I guess the moral of the story is if you want to be a gangster, move to America or you're just not cool. Now, I leave you with a clip of one of the mighty Bill Hicks' rants about english gangsters. It is a laugh:

How to Die a Hero: Become a Celebrity.

Well, this year seems to be pretty bad for the celebrity world. Why you ask? Well, they're all dying!

We've had the deaths of Jade Goody, David Carradine, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson and now, the Boyzone singer Stephen Gately.

Who?

You know, Stephen Gately, the gay one. Ok, that doesn't narrow it down... erm, the openly gay one.
The truth is, the world of the famous has been rocked by many deaths this year. I know this because I went onto Wikipedia and typed 'Celebrity Deaths 2009' and then realised the list was too massive to put up here and I didn't know half of them. Ok, so I'm not up to scratch on celebrities but the reason I mention the people above is because they are the figures the public were most familiar with... well, maybe not Mr. Gately but he gets a special mention as he died in the last few days.

But the thing that annoys me the most about celebrity deaths is the fact that they always die as heroes, as people who should be remembered in a fond light. Their flaws, however serious, are instantly fogotten. I believe that to truly respect and remember a person you have to remember them for their bad side as well as their good. To brush aside their questionable acts and instead focus upon how 'inspirational' they were makes the whole deal farcical.

Ok, you know what I'm getting at here. Michael Jackson. Remembered as the black boy that grew into a white lady and became an 'inspiration' (there's that word again) to a new generation of musicians and a fond public figure. It is now taboo to mention the fact that, in all honesty, he was probably a pedophile. If a man believes himself to be a 'child' it does not make him less of a pedophile in much the same way a man who might believe to be a 'porn star' is no less of a rapist. People can make all these bullshit psycho-examinations of his character to excuse why he acted as he did, but it doesn't change what happened. He won the court case -- in many people's opinion -- due to the amount of money he was giving to the families who accused him of touching their kids. They were greedy and took the money and he got off scot free... and now he dies a hero.

I'm sure Michael Jackson did a lot of good in his life, but we should also remember the bad. It's a lesson celebrities should learn and then maybe, just maybe, they would think twice before acting out of line. Most famous people know that they can do what they want and they will still probably die a hero.

Another prime example is Jade Goody. For those of you who don't know anything about Jade I will explain. She was a plump lady who entered the UK Big Brother house, and lost, but managed to make it in the celebrity world because many of the UK's population could relate to her (that is actually quite depressing). So, she became someone who developed her own brand and worked very hard to make it in the celebrity world and that is commendable. But despite having her own brand and a work out video and a perfume line she actually wasn't in the public eye all that much. I think people actually forgot what she was like as a person and that went in her favour. As long as she didn't do interviews she was safe and sound and people would still love her.

Then she went back into the Big Brother house and we were all reminded what she was like as a person and forgot her brand image. We were reminded that she was in fact a common bully and a fairly big racist. She was hated and was trying desperately to get back into the good books of the public. Then, she developed cancer. And, regrettably she died. Suddenly, all her misdeeds were forgotten and she was a hero; an 'inspiration' to the public.

David Carradine didn't lead an entirely innocent life and his method of death was questionable but at least the media didn't blow his funeral out of proportion like the Michael Jackson and Jade Goody farce. Farrah Fawcett is perhaps the only one of the celebrities I've mentioned who actually deserves praise. Unfortunately the poor lady had the bad fortune of dying the same time as Michael Jackson who appears to have won the popularity contest.

Why, why, do we not give these people modest funerals and remember them for who they were -- warts and all -- instead of pretending they were saviours and heroes? In my opinion, it would be a far more respectful way to remember them.

I wonder: when Gary Glitter dies, will we remember him as the popular singer (even 'inspirational') or as the filthly pedophile? Time will tell.

"Mr. Criminal, we're not 'Forcing' you, We're 'Servicing' you."

Ok, so this is my first blog and in some ways it is perhaps the most important one. Why? Well, because it sets a tone for the rest of my posts. It let's everyone know my motives and why I've chosen to write about my life and my innermost thoughts on a fairly public website.

I could say it's because I feel I'm genuinely interesting (that would be a lie) or because I want to make a difference to the world (that is futile, and also a lie) or it may be because I simply want to have a rant and make people laugh. Bingo. I'm not going to lie, people write blogs for various reasons: usually to put a point across or to make themselves feel important or to appear as philosophical as possible. Others wish to educate or influence other people. I can't be bothered with any of that, nor do I have the time or intelligence to structure my thoughts into a cohesive message that people will take on board.

I'm good at ranting though -- and rant I shall -- but the only real reason for me writing this blog is because I am not an important person, nor am I an intellectual: I just want to feel that there are other people out there who may listen to what I have to say and laugh. It's a bonus if you agree, but all I'm really after is a momentary smile on someone's face before they get back to the tedium of everyday life. I'm not out to change the world, I'm just out to make the best of a bad situation.

So, about me, Kekea. Obviously that's not my real name, nor am I going to go to the trouble of explaining how I came to pick that particular name... at least not yet.

I spent a short period of my life in the West Midlands police before leaving, of my own accord, and getting a job as a complaints specialist at a well-known mobile communications company. I am not a police constable anymore, nor do I wish to be, and I have the utmost respect for those doing that job. I take my beanie hat off to those in that position, you are far stronger than me. The question many people ask is "Why did you leave?"

A valid question.

I will explain. I worked in a pretty nasty area in Birmingham, 40 miles away from my friends and family. This made a hard job even more difficult. Afterall, you need support if you're working with such... erm... interesting people each day. Without that support, your mind wanders: you watch pigeons mate instead of watching the drug house across the street, you count the number of clouds you see that look like animals and you use the laser speed trap to see how fast a squirrel can run up a tree (I'm told it's 6mph). Basically, your attention is not where it should be. Not good for someone who is meant to be out there protecting the law-abiding public from nasty people. So, I took my leave of the police and didn't really look back.

But, during my time in the force I realised how much times have changed. I'm only 25, (I was only 20 when I was in) but in the few years prior to me joining the force there was a huge change in police values and the police image. Millions were invested in changing the way constables are trained and the way the public percieved their local bobbies and do you know why? A TV programme...

That's right... a TV programme.

I believe it was 'Panorama' (correct me if I'm wrong) who dedicated an episode to an investigation of racism in the police force. During this show, viewers were apalled to see officers talking about gunning down asians as they leave a mosque and joking around under a pillow case that had been made to look like a Ku Klux Klan hood. It was, obviously, quite upsetting and the actions of the people in the film were sickening, but at the same time it was blown vastly out of proportion.

Not every police officer is, or was, a racist. The force as a whole was not racist and in my opinion that programme did far more harm than good. Shortly after it was aired, it was decided that the police had to be more approachable, more friendly, more diverse and more... well, average. Which is why I got in.

In order to make a less 'elite' force it meant restructuring the training to make sure it didn't discriminate against anyone. Now anyone could join, it didn't matter how small you were, what colour you were, what tattoos you had or how far you could run. Now all that mattered was that you knew that it is NOT right to call a blackboard a blackboard. It is a chalkboard. And Baa-Baa Black Sheep? You sing that nursery rhyme in here sonny and it's paramount to parading around with a pillow case on your head and a burning cross in your hand.

We spent a good couple of weeks learning how all these things were in fact racist. People are not black, they are 'coloured', they are not Chinese, they are 'oriental', they are not Pakistani, they are 'asian'. It was also hinted that the common 'IC' system of identifying the colour of a suspect was to go out of the window. What they would replace it with is a mystery:

"1248 to control. We've just interviewed the victim of the robbery and we're looking for a... male. With a hoody... and eyes. That is all."

"What is the colour of the suspect, 1248?"

"I'm not racist, control. To quote Michael Jackson, 'It don't matter if you're black or white'..."

It doesn't quite work does it? I am sure they will bring in a more inconspicuous way of identifying the race and colour of a suspect but why they need to change things that aren't broken in the first place vexes me. Granted, we can't go back to the 70's where they probably wouldn't have frowned at a suspect 'colour chart' that goes from 'N*gger' down to 'P*ki', through to 'Good ol' Englishman' but getting rid of a system of identification and changing the way constables address a particular race is a little extreme. I remember talking to a coloured friend who took exception to being called 'coloured'. He said, quite rightly:

"Coloured? That makes me sound like a paint-by-numbers. I'm black!"

And this brings me to the whole point of this rant. Among the many different aspects of the police force that were changed was the name itself. The police force was no longer a 'Force', it was to be a 'Service'. Apparently changing that one word would completely change the way the public perceived the police.

It didn't.

But, a combination of the political correctness, the changing of the name and the way they recruited did change the way the public perceives the police and in my opinion it changed it for the worse. In the 70's they may have been a bunch of cynical, rowdy racists but they got the job done and, more importantly, they were respected. I have real respect for the police and the job they do but many people don't. PCSO's are seen as a joke and if a police officer is struggling with a criminal, your average Joe is more likely to be rooting for the scumbag to get away than assist the copper.

You don't believe me? Ask around. Most people don't like the police. The amount of times someone sniggered 'ACAB' (all coppers are bastards) under their breath when I was working as a constable was unbelievable. Not only that, but constables now have to contend with constantly being branded a racist.

"Yo man, you're only arresting me because I'm black."

 "No, I'm arresting you because you're a twat. Colour doesn't come into it."


So, I left because it was a hard job. A hard job that nobody really appreciates. If you're spending time fighting to keep someone alive after a stabbing you'll only get complaints from Mrs. Miggins because you didn't come to see her when a yob smashed her plant pot. If you give someone CPR, you'll only get sued because you broke their rib. If you're left alone for three seconds with a minor you'll get suspended when their parents claim you touched their child. This is the country I live in. A country where all that matters is number one and where nobody dares offend anyone.

And god forbid you even dare to call a blackboard a blackboard.

This blog is dedicated to all those hard working police people who are 'serving' us out there. You do a hard job but you can rest assured you have at least one fan here.