by Harry Morris
The drunken local informed Hector, that the big rabbit, as he had described it, was now in a large cooking pot, where he had boiled it alongside various vegetables.
Big Hector couldn't listen to any more of the drunken local's raving. He immediately grabbed hold of him by the scruff of the neck and put a death grip on him, while at the same time informing him that he was a police sergeant from Glasgow.
The rest of the pub patrons intervened to separate both men, as Hector proceeded to choke him.
As they struggled to hold him down, the irate Hector could be heard shouting at the top of his voice, ‘Away, ya drunken auld bastard, you've eaten ma wean's wee pet dug!’
Suddenly the door to the pub was thrown open and in came Hector's wife all excited, accompanied by his weans, leading the pet Cocker Spaniel on a rope.
They all focussed on Hector being restrained by half the pub locals, as one of his weans called out, ‘We've found her, Daddy!’
After a short while peace was restored and after a bit of heavy grovelling by Hector, a drink settlement was made, as everyone in the pub ordered large whiskies at Hector's expense.
Where had the dog been, I hear you ask?
It appears that the lost pet dog had been found by the local policeman after he came across it on the hills chasing after real bunnies, ‘Born Free’ style.
Silence That Man!
• • •
Alistair Petrie was a very straight, ex-military-type individual, and being ex-army, he was always immaculately turned out in his police uniform.
He was bald-headed as a personal preference, with a pencil-thin moustache, neatly trimmed without a hair out of place.
Alistair was a senior cop with years of experience and would regularly be accompanied by a young recruit, with whom he would march up and down the empty sheds of the Kingston Docks, executing every drill movement possible, every instruction called out by himself – with no swearing, as would have been expected from a Sergeant Major!
One particular evening, Alistair had conveyed a prisoner to the Gorbals Police Office.
While awaiting his turn, in a queue of prisoners all waiting to be charged, Alistair's prisoner was disturbing the others by continually shouting, swearing and bemoaning his arrest.
As the charge bar area was very busy at this time, the Duty Officer was becoming exasperated and called out, ‘Silence that man!’
Alistair, always one to obey an order, shouted back, ‘ Yes sir!’ Then drew his wooden baton and promptly struck his prisoner across the head, knocking him unconscious!
The other prisoners looking on were speechless. You could hear a pin drop.
As for the explanation as to the injuries to his prisoner? Alastair reported that ‘Obviously he had too much to drink, fell in the street, and was subsequently found lying there in that condition by myself.’
Problem solved, prompting a thank-you letter from the prisoner's immediate family for being so caring in looking after him.
Question & Answer
• • •
What has a hundred legs and three teeth?
A methadone queue.
Judge Judy
• • •
Judge Judy asked a prostitute, ‘So when did you realise you were raped?’
The prostitute, wiping away her tears, said, ‘When his cheque bounced!’
Flying
• • •
Back in the 60s, a police casualty surgeon was asked to accompany an elderly sergeant, renowned for having a reputation as a joker.
It was late in the evening and very little was happening, so they decided to park near the ‘Whirlies’ roundabout in East Kilbride and take observations.
They had only been there a few minutes when from the town centre direction appeared a small, two-seater sports car with fancy wire spoke wheels, racing towards the roundabout.
The elderly sergeant immediately turned to the police doctor and said, ‘I think we might require your services very shortly!’
The words had hardly left his lips when the car ploughed straight into the roundabout at high speed, causing the bodywork to detach from the chassis on impact. It then continued to career up the grass slope, coming to rest in the centre of the roundabout.
The elderly sergeant heaved a heavy sigh, stepped out of the police car, put on his hat and walked slowly towards what was left of the sports car.
The driver was still seated in the driving seat, which was wedged at an awkward angle. Apart from appearing slightly dazed, the driver looked okay.
‘Are you all right there, son?’ the sergeant asked.
The driver nodded his head and replied, ‘Yes.’
‘Okay then, driving licence?’ said the sergeant.
On checking it, the sergeant noted that the licence was issued by the RAF and the driver held the rank of pilot officer.
The elderly sergeant couldn't resist it, as he looked at the driver and with a wry smile, and said, ‘Okay, Pilot Officer, what's it to be? Reckless driving, or dangerously low flying without wings?’
Depressed
• • •
I was so depressed last night, I rang Lifeline and got through to a call centre in Afghanistan, so I told the operator I was deeply depressed and feeling suicidal.
The guy got all excited and asked if I could drive a truck.
Shopping at Morrisons
• • •
Yesterday I was at my local Morrisons store buying a large bag of Iams dog biscuits for my wee dog, Jock, the wonder dog. I was standing in the checkout line when the woman behind me asked if I actually had a dog.
What did she think I had, a horse? So, being a retired polis and with little to do these days but practise my sense of humour, I reacted on impulse and replied, ‘No, I don't have a dog, but I am starting my Iams Diet again.’
I added that I probably shouldn't, because I'd ended up in the hospital the last time, having lost four stones before collapsing and waking up in an intensive-care unit with tubes and wires coming out of every orifice, coupled with drips in both arms.
I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that you fill your trouser pockets with Iams nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete, so it works well, and therefore I was going to give it another try.
At this point, I have to mention that practically everyone in the checkout queue was now totally engrossed with my fascinating story about my dog biscuits.
However, horrified at the thought, the woman asked if I had ended up in intensive care because the dog food had poisoned me.
‘Absolutely not!’ I responded. ‘It was because I stepped off the footpath onto the roadway to sniff a Golden Retriever's bum, and was struck by an oncoming car.’
I thought the man behind her in the queue was going to have a massive heart attack, he was laughing so hard.
As a result, Morrisons won't let me shop there any more. So as a warning to you all, think before you ask us retired polis daft questions, because we have all the time in the world to think up some crazy stories to shock you with.
Bloody Cheek
• • •
One night, while alone in the house with my missus, I thought I was being funny and said to her, ‘Maybe we should start washing your clothes in that Slim Fast. It would take a few inches off your waist!’
My wife was not one bit amused, and decided that she simply couldn't let such a comment like that go without getting back at me.
The very next morning I took a pair of underpants out of my drawer. ‘What the hell is this?’ I said to myself, as a little puff of dust cloud appeared when I shook them out.
‘Ho, Maz!’ I shouted into the bathroom. ‘Why did you put talcum powder into the crotch of my underpants?’
She shouted back, ‘It's not talcum powder … it's bloody Miracle Grow!’
Car Boot Sale
• • •
One of my favourite pastimes is walking around a
car boot sale. In fact, I'll go as far to say that I suffer withdrawal symptoms if I miss a Saturday morning rummage at a stall.
Last week, I was spreading my wealth on a visit to my local car boot venue when I was drawn to a small ornatelooking vase. I picked it up for closer inspection, before enquiring, ‘How much is this?’
The woman looked over at the item I was holding, screwed her eyes up to see it better, then turned to her male partner who was accompanying her and said, ‘Ya rotten big bastard! Ah suppose this is your idea of a joke?’
At that, she leaned over and politely grabbed it out of my hand. ‘You'll pay for this, ya big diddy. You've taken it too far this time.’
‘Whit? Whit's yer problem?’ he asked her, with a smirk on his face.
‘This!’ she replied, holding up the item.
‘Oh that? It was a wee accident!’ he responded. It must have fell in the box by mistake.’
‘Fell in the box by mistake, my arse … You know fine well that's my mammy's ashes in there. Ye're a rotten big bastard, but don't worry, you'll be sorry.’
All the while I stood there soaking up their argumentative conversation as he continued to try and explain away his actions.
‘Let's face it, when she was alive, she widnae let us go anywhere oorsel’, she always had tae come wi’ us, so ah thought ah'd bring her alang tae her first car boot sale!’ he replied. ‘Ah wisnae gonnae really sell her. It was just a wee day out for her. That was a'!’
‘Well ye've went too far this time. Just wait, I'll get ye back for this. See your faither's ashes, you'll be getting spoonfuls of him in yer tea, yer porridge, yer mince … You watch me, ye'll be eating him a bit at a time and ye'll no’ be any the wiser! And see whit ye don't eat, it'll be getting scattered into the cat's box. I'm gonnae make you and him suffer for this.’
She then turned around to face me and blurted out indignantly, ‘She isnae for sale at any price, I'm keeping her!’
Car boot sales – sometimes, ye just don't know what ye're buying!
Training School
• • •
The Tulliallan Drill Sergeant noticed a new police recruit walking across his parade square and bawled at him, ‘Here you! Get your ass over here now!’
The new recruit tentatively made his way over to him.
‘What's your name?’ he screamed at him.
‘George!’ the new recruit replied.
‘Listen here, I don't know what kind of bleeding heart, pansy potter bullshit they're teaching you lot at the new Jackton police college, but up here, we don't refer to anyone by their first name,’ the sergeant scowled. ‘It leads to familiarity, and familiarity breeds contempt and a total breakdown in authority. Therefore, I refer to all new recruits by their surnames only, such as Morris, Clark, Bell. As for me, I don't want you to refer to me as sir, sarge, boss or any other alias; I'm to be addressed as sergeant. Do I make myself absolutely clear?’
The new recruit responded nervously. ‘Yes, Sergeant!’
‘Thank you! And now we've got that straight, what's your surname?’
The new recruit heaved a huge sigh, visibly gulped and said, ‘Darling! My name is George Darling.’
The drill sergeant paused for a few moments, took a deep breath then said, ‘Right! Okay, George, here's what I want you to do …’
Do What She Says!
• • •
A young opportunist ned housebreaker was wandering around a housing estate looking for his next property with an obvious opening for him to exploit, when he noticed a note pinned to the front door.
He casually entered through the front gate and walked up to the door where he removed the note, which was addressed to ‘The Repairman’, and contained the following information:
‘Keys are under the door mat. Faulty dishwasher in the kitchen, off to the right as you enter the house. After you have repaired it, leave your invoice on the work top and I'll send you off a cheque for the amount.
‘Oh, by the way, don't worry about my dog Spud. He won't bother with you. However, whatever you do, do NOT, under any circumstances, talk to my parrot! I must stress that you totally ignore my parrot and do not talk to him!’
Having read her written instructions to the repairman, the young ned located the key from under the mat and opened the front door of the house and entered, where he encountered the biggest, meanest looking dog he had ever seen. But, just as she had said in her note, the dog just lay there on the carpet watching the young ned go about his work of emptying drawers and cupboards looking for items of value to steal.
The parrot, however, drove him nuts the whole time he was doing this with its incessant squawking, swearing and continual offensive name calling.
Finally the young ned couldn't stand it any longer and yelled, ‘Shut it, ya stupid, ugly bird or, I'll stick ye in the oven!’ To which the parrot responded: ‘GET HIM SPUD!’ Y'know, sometimes you should listen to what women have to say!
Dose of Claim-itis!
• • •
You'll have seen the adverts on the television, or maybe heard them on the radio, regarding Health and Safety issues, with companies wishing to represent you in trying to get you a claim for compensation, if you have suffered an injury in the work place, or while out driving your car.
Well this is the Glesca version of the same advertisement.
Have you been injured at work lately?
Had a car accident while out driving?
Slipped on a wet floor in the work place?
Or tripped and fell injuring yourself on an uneven surface?
If so …
You're probably just a clumsy auld bastard!
Rambo Granny!
• • •
The person who told me about this gun-toting grandmother alleges it's true, so I'm going to relate it to you.
Apparently an elderly granny, on hearing that two thugs had violently raped her sixteen-year-old granddaughter, took it upon herself to seek revenge by tracing the where-abouts of the unsuspecting accused rapists and shooting off their testicles. Afterwards, she drove to the nearest police station, placed her firearm on the sergeant's desk and informed him very calmly, ‘Those bastards who raped my granddaughter will never rape another girl, that's for sure!’
The police report stated that the previously convicted rapist and armed robber David Murphy had lost his penis and both testicles when the outraged gun-toting granny opened fire on him with a .44 Magnum pistol in the hotel room where he and former prison cell mate Sidney Lomas were hiding out.
The avenging granny had also blasted Lomas's testicles to kingdom come, but, unfortunately, a team of doctors managed to save his mangled penis.
A police spokesman was quoted as saying, ‘Lomas may not have lost his manhood, but the doctor I spoke with said he won't be using it the way he used to!’
Detective John Dodds told reporters, ‘Both the accused are in a pretty bad condition, but are only too happy to be alive after what they've been through.’
‘Rambo Granny’, as she is now being referred to by the public, took the drastic action after her granddaughter had been carjacked and raped by the knife-wielding accused males in broad daylight, only minutes from a busy shopping mall.
‘When I saw the look on my granddaughter's face that night in the hospital, I decided to go out and get those bastards myself,’ the retired library assistant recalled. ‘I wasn't scared of them, because I had my gun with me and I've been shooting guns all my life.
‘So, using the police artist's sketch of the suspects involved and my granddaughter's description, I spent the next seven days prowling the wino-infested neighbourhood where the crime took place till I spotted them entering their hotel. I knew it was them the minute I saw them. So I went into the hotel, found their room and knocked on the door. When the big one opened the door, I shot him right between the legs. Then I casually walked inside and shot the other bastard as he cowardly backed up pleading for mercy.
‘When I'd fin
ished with him, I went down to the local police station and handed myself in.’
Now, the problem is, the baffled lawmen are trying to figure out exactly what to do with their vigilante granny!
‘What this woman has done was wrong, and she broke the law, but it is difficult to throw an eighty-one-year-old woman into prison,’ said a police spokesman, before adding, ‘Especially when there are several thousand people in the area wanting to nominate her for the next mayor of the city!’
You don't know what to do with her?
Well why not deport her to the UK? We'll give her a job to do!’
Daktari
• • •
A retired sea captain living in the King's Park area of Glasgow had a pet monkey, which he kept in his house.
One particular day, the captain had gone out and forgotten to close his back door, as a result of which his pet monkey managed to escape from the house.
A concerned neighbour contacted the police and Sergeant Sinton duly arrived, accompanied by several other officers, intent on capturing the monkey, which was presently having a field day cavorting about the neighbourhood gardens, swinging on trees and bushes, while evading all attempts to capture it.
Sergeant Sinton deployed his officers tactfully around the nearby gardens and managed to corner the animal.
With the monkey now surrounded by his officers, the sergeant decided to make a dive and grab it.
As he poised in readiness to carry out this manoeuvre, he made his move, swooping down on the monkey like an Olympic diver off the top board.
Unfortunately for him, within a split second of him doing so, the monkey nimbly leapt to the side, leaving the sergeant grasping at thin air and coming to rest in a muddy puddle of rain water.
The monkey shot a look of disdain at the bedraggled police sergeant getting up from the puddle, before it casually walked over and re-entered the house via the back door.
Unfortunately, that was not the end of the incident, for with each passing day the story ‘grew legs’ and became exaggerated.
Thereafter, for the rest of his police service, Sergeant Sinton was given the nickname of ‘Daktari’ after a popular African wildlife TV drama from the 60s.