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How do you tell the difference between a British Police Officer, an Australian Police Officer and an American Police Officer?


Pose the following question: You're walking down a deserted street with your wife and two small children. Suddenly, a dangerous looking man with a huge knife comes around the corner, locks eyes with you, screams obscenities, raises the knife, and charges. You are carrying a Glock 40, and you are an expert shot. You have mere seconds before he reaches you and your family. What do you do?




Well, that's not enough information to answer the question! Does the man look poor or oppressed? Have I ever done anything to him that would inspire him to attack? Could we run away? What does my wife think? What about the kids?


Could I possibly swing the gun like a club and knock the knife out of his hand? What does the law say about this situation? Does the Glock have appropriate safety built into it? Why am I carrying a loaded gun anyway, and what kind of message does this send to society and to my children?


Is it possible he'd be happy with just killing me? Does he definitely want to kill me, or would he be content just to wound me? If I were to grab his knees and hold on, could my family get away while he was stabbing me? Should I call 999?


Why is this street so deserted? We need to raise taxes, have paint and weed days and make this a happier, healthier street that would discourage such behaviour. If I raise my gun and he turns and runs away, do I get blamed when he falls over running away, knocks his head and kills himself?


If I shoot him, and lose the court case does he have the opportunity to sue me, cost me my job, my credibility and I will lose my family home?










American Officer's Daughter: "Nice grouping, Dad! Were those the Winchester Silver Tips?"

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The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife goodbye and said, "Well, I'm off now. The man should be here soon."


Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning, Ma'am", he said, "I've come to..."


"Oh, no need to explain," Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, "I've been expecting you."


"Have you really?" said the photographer. "Well, that's good. Did you know babies are my specialty?"


"Well that's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat".


After a moment she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"


"Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor is fun. You can really spread out there."


"Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work out for Harry and me!"


"Well, Ma'am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results."


"My, that's a lot!", gasped Mrs. Smith.


"Ma'am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I'd love to be In and out in five minutes, but I'm sure you'd be disappointed with that."


"Don't I know it," said Mrs. Smith quietly.


The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus," he said.


"Oh, my word!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her throat.


"And these twins turned out exceptionally well - when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with."


"She was difficult?" asked Mrs. Smith.


"Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good look"


"Four and five deep?" said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement.


"Yes", the photographer replied. "And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling - I could hardly concentrate, and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in."


Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "Do you mean they actually chewed on your, uh...equipment?"


"It's true, Ma'am, yes.. Well, if you're ready, I'll set-up my tripod and we can get to work right away."




"Oh yes, Ma'am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big to be held in the hand very long."

Mrs. Smith fainted


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Saturday 3rd May 2008


Saw him in the evening and he was acting really strangely.


I'd been shopping in the afternoon with the girls and was a bit late meeting him, thought it might be that.


The bar was really crowded and loud, so I suggested we go somewhere quieter to talk.


He was still very subdued and distracted so I suggested we went somewhere nice to eat


All through dinner he just didn't seem himself - he hardly laughed and didn't seem to be paying any attention to me or to what I was saying. I just knew that something was wrong.


He dropped me back home and I wondered if he was going to come in.


He hesitated but followed.


I asked him what was wrong, but he just half shook his head and turned the television on.


After about ten minutes of silence I said that I was going upstairs to bed, I put my arms around him and told him that I loved him deeply.


He just gave a sigh and a sad sort of smile.


He didn't follow me up immediately but came up later and, to my surprise, we made love - but he still seemed distant and a bit cold.


I cried myself to sleep - I think he's planning to leave me - maybe he's found someone else.













Saturday 3rd May 2008


Port lost.




Got a root though.



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Oxford English Dictionary New words for 2007



Waving your arms around and talking bollocks.



Sitting round in a group, discussing why a deadline was missed or a Project failed, and who was responsible.



A manager who flies in, makes a lot of noise, craps on everything, and then leaves.



The process by which people seem to absorb success and advancement by licking ass and sucking up to the boss rather than working hard.



The experience of spending an entire day swimming upstream only to get screwed and die.



Single Income, Two Children and Oppressive Mortgage. What yuppies turn into when they have children and one of them stops working to stay home with the kids or start a "home business".



Single working girls with single income, no boyfriend and desperate.



The fine art of whacking the crap out of an electronic device to get it to work again.



The rarefied organisational layers beginning just above the rank and file - decisions that fall from the "adminisphere" are often profoundly inappropriate or irrelevant to the problems they were designed to solve. This is often affiliated with the dreaded "administrivia" - needless paperwork and processes.



Entering a fast food restaurant with no intention of buying food, youâ??re just going to the bog (Loo). If challenged by a pimply staff member, your declaration to them that you'll buy their food afterwards is known as a McShit with Lies.


* 404.

Someone who's clueless, from the World Wide Web error message "404 Not Found" meaning that the

requested document could not be located.



Similar to a French Kiss but given down under.



A very short skirt, only an inch from the hare.



A young man of substandard intelligence, the typical adolescent who works in a burger restaurant. The 'no-stars' comes from the badges displaying stars that staff at fast-food restaurants often wears to show their level of training.



The contents of a Wonderbra, i.e. extremely impressive when viewed from the outside, but there's actually naught in there worth seeing.



A bath so hot, that when lowering yourself in, you go: "Oo! Oo! Oo! - Aa! Aa! Aa!"



The bus that arrives at the pub on Friday night while you're in the Toilet after your 10th pint, and whisks away all the unattractive people so the pub is suddenly packed with stunners when you come back in.



The taxi that arrives at your place on Saturday morning before you wake up whisks away the stunner you slept with, and leaves a 10-Pinter in your bed instead.



The invisible but warm coat worn when walking home after a booze cruise at 3:00 am.



The invisible device that ensures your safe arrival home after booze cruise, even though you're too drunk to remember where you live, how you got there, and where you've come from.



Your first pee in the pub, usually after 2 hours of drinking and after breaking the seal of your bladder, repeat visits to the toilet will be required every 10 or 15 minutes for the rest of the night.



Bottled premixed spirits, regularly consumed by young women.



A woman whose knickers are too small for her, so she looks like she's got 4 buttocks.

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