Sunday, 11 July 2010

Bullets are cheaper than prison

Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here and get me some money too ..

So it seems that Raoul Moat won't become the month-long story worthy of great attention that I was expecting. The events surrounding his death however are vaguely funny, in a surreal, macabre way.

What wouldn't I have given to have witnessed that scene? Moat, on the bank of a Rothbury river, surrounded by armed police, while police negotiators talk to him calmly as he holds his shotgun to his throat. The standoff, bathed in the spotlight of a police helicopter, is tense.


Then, from what I can infer from the plethora of news stories that I've scoured after not quite believing it, Paul Gascoigne turns up after a few at the pub armed with chicken, fishing rods, and more booze, with the fool-proof plan of a little night time angling with Moat, to try and convince him to put his weapons down and go quietly.

He was also confused apparently as to why the police wouldn't let him through the cordon. You've done us proud again Gazza.

Besides, Moat was probably making a fuss about nothing, his breakup and all. I'm sure there are plenty of other nice young women out there looking for serious relationships with burly ginger geordies with histories of violent crime and steroid abuse.

Thus ends the life of the 3rd murderous fuckhead in as many months. That 'crossbow cannibal' twat, Derrick Bird, the angry taxi driver, and now ol' Raoul. Nuts eh? You wait ages for a serial killer and then 3 turn up at once.


Oh, and my sincerest thoughts go to the poor bastard pictured up there on the left who seems to have been kitted out with stuff the Police found at Toys R Us. He seems rightfully pissed off.