by Harry Morris
• • •
This book is dedicated to
my Marion
‘you are my rock – love you always’
• • •
Acknowledgements
• • •
The author would like to thank Dougie Gillespie, Ian Whitelaw, Alec Carson, Tom McNulty, Jim Duffy, Anne Nelson, Alistair Dinsmor and Fraser Mitchell for their contributions.
Special thanks to Campbell Brown and all the staff at Black & White Publishing.
Lastly, I would like to wish a speedy and continued recovery to my old mate, Jimmy Clark.
Website: www.harrythepolis.com
All enquiries to book Harry as a guest speaker or stand-up storyteller, should be directed to: [email protected]
Postal address:
P.O. Box 7031
Glasgow
G44 3YN
Harry Morris is registered with Live Literature Events
Contents
• • •
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Harry’s Prayer
Introduction
PART ONE
Stopping Smoking Suddenly
Undercover Technology
Time Fits the Crime
Order in the Court
The Census
Forget Me Not!
An Old Crime Rhyme
Big Issue
What is Sex? Text
A Bridge too Close
Did Ye Hear That?
Never Trust a Woman
Playtime
Check out the Library
You Tube!
Black Mark for Frankie
Order in the Court
Harry’s Wig
Centre Stand
The Password
Dumb and Dumber 1
Dumb and Dumber 2
Order in the Court
Solving yer Problems
Extreme Makeover
With or Without Cream
Billy Whizz!
PART TWO
The Boss’s Wife
Spell It?
Ask a Stupid Question
Disabled Parking
What Window?
Gimme the Job?
The Language Barrier
Cannae Even Say It
Order in the Court
Lock Up a Body
Order in the Court
Who Would Have Guessed?
Anniversary Gifts
Kleptomaniac, Now That’s the Word
Gordon Bloody Ramsay
Fix yer Motor
Describe It for Me?
A Well-hung Surprise
Message Boy
PART THREE
Bad Boy, Nice Hair
Johnny Cash
You Look Familiar
Who’s Been Eating my Piece?
He’s Not Happy
Tight Lines
Instant Replay
Next
Party Songs in the Nick
Order in the Court
Holy Water, Hic!
The Effect of Stress
The Raid
Doesn’t Compute
That’ll Be Me!
Everyone a Winner
Space Oddity
Golf Practice is Murder
Bargains Galore
Did You Say a Raygun?
Doctor’s Surgery
Upper-class Neds
Supervisors
The Bar Officer
Offer a Lift Home?
PART FOUR
Breastfeeding Awards
Begin the Begin
The Office Cleaner
Nursing Homes
Midlife Crisis
Suits You, Sir!
WPC Blonde
Hello There
Accidents Happen
Deal or No Deal?
A Lotto Revenge
Danny’s Dilemma
Picture This!
Snap! Text
Order in the Court
Heather the Weather
Monopoly – a Game of Chance
Lack of Imagination
Always Check Under the Helmet
Private Places
F*** Off!
Say Again
Not in Jess
Smokey Was the Bandit
PART FIVE
Knock It Off
Amicable Divorce
Bible John Theory
It’s How You Say It
I Beg Your Pardon
He’s Definitely Dead!
The Place to Be!
Odd One Out
Getting Auld
Applause!
Historic Bus Rides
Balls Still Intact
Bad Tempers
Order in the Court
Permission to Slap?
Taking Your Turn
Better than BUPA
Public Warning
Drunk Is No Excuse
Signing Sessions
Name Dropper
Order in the Court
Ah … Bisto!
Nice Thought
PART SIX
Desperate Dermott
Order in the Court
A Sting in the Jag
Police Landscapes
An Honest Mistake
Don’t Even Think It!
A Confession or What?
David Who?
I Don’t Believe It!
Chief Medical Officer
Not Now, Thanks
Think About It First
Racism or What?
Everything Is on Me
Who Knows, Maybe?
A Perfect Relationship
Shut That Door
Teething Troubles
Bring Back Hanging!
Passing Out Parade
Last to Know
Official Stamp
Who’s a Pretty Boy, Then?
Love’s on the Rocks
Order in the Court
Hold on There
PC Humour
PART SEVEN
Frankie The Flop
A Colourful Life
Little Voice
Don’t Call Us, We’ll Call You. Maybe!
Quiet Please!
We Have a Winner
A Fond Memory
The Glesca Kiss
Ode tae Harry the Polis
Tut, Tut!
Harry Says, ‘Share With Me!’
By the Same Author
Copyright
Harry’s Prayer
• • •
Gie me a sense of humour, O Lord,
And allow me tae see the joke
Then fill me wi’ funny anecdotes,
Fur me tae pass on tae ither folk!
And as Ah’m telling these stories
Let the evening be happy and bright
Wi’ the people who bought this book
Still laughing long after that night!
So! Fed up reading aboot Gangsta’s
And the people who glamorise crime?
Well sit back and relax wi’ my stories
And enjoy ‘Harry the Polis’ this time
Cause patter is part o’ oor lifestyle
So let no man ever take that away
And make the day that I stop laughing
The day when they cart me away!
‘Ye just cannae beat Glesca for the real-life patter!’
Introduction
• • •
Welcome to the fifth book in the Harry the Polis series.
This book is filled with stories, jokes, anecdotes and tales that hopefully will make you laugh and brighten up your day.
Read this book in whatever way you want – from beginning to end or simply picking i
t up and flicking through it, stopping anywhere to read a story that will cheer you up.
Harry the Polis is a series of books that you’ll never, ever finish reading. It is my hope that you’ll read them over and over, referring back to a certain story or anecdote that brought a smile to your face, or made you chuckle out loud with laughter.
You will find as you read this book that you just can’t keep some of the stories to yourself and you’ll want to share them with your friends.
Well, go ahead and start their day, and your own, with a wee laugh!
Harry
Stopping Smoking Suddenly
• • •
I received a telephone call from big Donnie Henderson, my former colleague and resident nutter.
‘Harry boy! Just thought I would give you a quick call to let you know that our old ex-shift inspector Kevin Murphy died yesterday. It was quite sudden.’
‘What did he die of, a heart attack?’ I asked him.
‘Naw! It was smoking!’ he replied. ‘I was with him when it happened.’
‘Was it cancer?’ I asked in a concerned voice.
‘Not at all!’ he responded. ‘We were sitting in the pub together having a wee dram or two, having a right good blether, when Kevin decided to go outside for a cigarette. Unfortunately, he slipped on the newly tiled smoking area floor and walloped his head off the ground – killed him stone dead!’
‘So it wasn’t really smoking he died from then, was it?’
‘I suppose not. Anyways, I was able to summon the services of the local Jewish rabbi to attend and say a few words over him,’ Donnie said, quite matter-of-fact.
‘A rabbi? But Kevin is a Catholic, so surely you mean a priest?’
Too which Donnie responded very indignantly, ‘Are ye bloody joking? There’s no way I was going to bother a priest at that time on a Sunday night!’
Undercover Technology
• • •
It amazes me how much modern technology plays a big part in the way we police our cities and detect our criminals in today’s hitech society.
I remember arriving at the office one time to take up my night-shift duty and being called into the sergeant’s room.
‘Throw on a civvy jacket, Harry, we’re going for a “steak-out” right now!’ he said.
I couldn’t wait to phone my missus.
‘What do you make of it, darling? I’m only two weeks in the job and the sergeant is taking me out for a meal!’
Easy mistake to make, I thought.
However, as I was later to find out, it was my first surveillance assignment.
No mobile phones or radios in those days, we relied on making hand signs and noise signals to alert each other of the suspect’s approach.
The suspect was spotted coming into the area by the first cop, who alerted his nearest contact, by impersonating the noise of a mating chimpanzee.
Not exactly out of place in the Castlemilk area of Glasgow.
The next cop on the stakeout would hear this and signal by making a sound like an owl out on a dark night. On hearing this, the next cop in line would bark like a dog. All very technical and, dare I say, impressive stuff!
I would be the next in the line to hear this signal and therefore it would be my turn to pass on the news of the suspect’s presence.
Unable to impersonate an animal noise, or whistle like an Indian in the John Wayne film She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, I put the forefinger of each hand up to my mouth and signalled ‘HE’S COMING!’ at the top of my voice.
Unfortunately, this was probably an old, well-used method I had employed, which was instantly recognisable to neds, and apparently I inadvertently alerted every bloody criminal within a three-mile radius.
Progress would be made with the arrival of the two-way radios and, even better, with the mobile phone.
So as not to alert the suspect, if he was close by, we would use the text method. In particular the T9 system.
Now the T9 system is when you’ve typed into your phone the beginning of the word you want to write and the system automatically puts up on to the screen the word it thinks you want to say.
Not being very technically minded in the use of mobile phones and their many qualities, by the time I had typed in my text message, informing my colleagues that I had observed the suspect in the area, he had arrived home, alerted his entire family to my presence, packed all the family belongings into cases, called a ‘fast black’ and were now sitting comfortably in the departure lounge of Glasgow airport, drinking a large vodka and Irn-Bru, while awaiting the call to board flight 482 that would fly them off to Benidorm, where they would begin a new life with a whole new identity.
The following are examples of my text messages with the correct words I meant to write in brackets. It’s no wonder I get into trouble!
Joist (Just) spurted (spotted) the sunbed (suspect) as he was wanking (walking) with a prick (stick) in his tight (right) hand.
I think he gay (may) have groped (dropped) the pope (dope) on his day (way), while singing (bringing) the sash (stash) to his whore (door).
He is marrying (carrying) a transvestite (transistor), in his mother (other) home (hand).
Last spurted (spotted) ejaculating (evacuating) out from the sack (back) of his mouse (house) with a large shite (white) bag, wrapped (strapped) to the poof (roof) of his bra (car).
Do you pish (wish) me to shop (stop) and starch (search) gin (him) $ (?) Ever (Over).
And how they should have read as text messages:
Just spotted the suspect as he was walking with a stick in his right hand.
I think he may have dropped the dope on his way, while bringing the stash to his door.
He is carrying a transistor in his other hand.
Last spotted evacuating out from the back of his house with a large white bag strapped to the roof of his car.
Do you wish me to stop and search him? Over.
Time Fits the Crime
• • •
An elderly lady appeared in court on a shoplifting charge, having stolen a tin of pears from the local Safeway.
‘How do you plead?’ the sheriff asked her.
‘Guilty, m’lord, Ah did it!’ she replied.
‘How many slices of fruit were in the tin?’ he asked the procurator fiscal.
The fiscal shuffled some papers about, before replying, ‘There were eight slices in the tin, m’lord!’
The sheriff thought for a moment, considering his verdict, then said, ‘I’m taking into account your age, but feel I have to set an example of you in order to deter you from committing a similar crime again. Therefore, there were eight slices of fruit in the tin, so I’m sentencing you to eight days in prison.’
At that, her husband shouted out from the back of the court, ‘She stole a tin of beans as well, m’lord!’
Order in the Court
• • •
True Stories from the Law Courts
ADVOCATE DEPUTE: All your replies must be oral, OK? What school did you attend?
YOUNG WITNESS: Oral!
The Census
• • •
My police colleague was driving his two kids to school one morning, when he was stopped in a line of traffic.
‘CENSUS’ said the sign, as each driver in turn was approached by a person holding a clipboard in order to note the relevant answers to their questions.
‘Good morning, sir, won’t keep you a moment, but we are carrying out a government census and require you to answer a few simple questions. Now, can you tell me where you are going?’ the efficient young female enquired.
‘I’m going to John Street School,’ he replied.
‘And where exactly is John Street School, sir?’ she asked.
‘In John Street!’ my beleaguered colleague replied.
‘And why are you going to John Street?’ she enquired.
‘Because that’s where the school is!’ he replied.
‘And are you all going to the sch
ool in John Street?’ she asked him.
At which point my colleague paused, before answering, ‘Naw, hen, just the weans. I left the school years ago!’
Forget Me Not!
• • •
Two police officers’ wives were on a girlie night out and, at the end of the evening, on their journey back home, they decided to take a short cut and stagger through the local cemetery.
Halfway through, both of them were bursting for a pee and, unable to hold it in any longer, they decided to relieve themselves there and then.
Afterwards, with no paper tissues available, the first wife decided to use her knickers in order to dry herself off, before discarding them, while the second wife reached her hand over a nearby gravestone and grabbed hold of a relatively new wreath to wipe herself.
Having both dried their private parts off, they continued on their homeward journey.
Next morning, in the police muster room, the respective husbands of the two wives involved were talking and one of them remarked, ‘I don’t know what they two were up to last night, but when she returned home from her girlie night out, she wasn’t wearing any knickers!’
To which the other one commented, ‘That’s nothing. My missus arrived home with a card sticking out of her fanny, which read, “We’ll never forget you. From all the lads at the fire station”!’
An Old Crime Rhyme
• • •
Lizzie Borden took an axe
And gave her mother forty whacks,
When she saw what she had done,
She gave her father forty-one!
Now! I would ask you: who in their right mind would attempt to take a broken pay packet home to that bitch?
Big Issue
• • •
One day whilst working with an old colleague, not exactly known for his subtlety, we were approached by a young, dirty, unkempt youth, who put his hand out to us and said, ‘Sir, I haven’t eaten for three days.’
To which my colleague responded, ‘Go on, force yourself!’ before walking off.
What is Sex? Text
• • •
