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Thread: Tell us your best "almost got caught" story

  1. #201

    Join Date
    Jul 2012
    South of South London a bit
    Thanked 3,170 Times in 972 Posts


    Fuck me. I got a shit load.

    The worst and scariest.

    I was a beach bum in Goa, early 90s. I had just had a kilo hash delivered to my house for tourist sales and that night was DJing at a beach shack. I got a knock on the door and a local lad who I knew well was asking if I had spare hash. I gave him 4 tollers (40g) I then asked him if he would help me get my decks/CDs etc to the beach bar I was DJing at.
    We set off, I had a house on the beach, and as we set off I hear, Solyom, you DJing, Yea is the reply.
    I had a short sleave shirt on with a shirt pocket. He said, here ar mate, bit of K to keep you going, and puts a small wrap in my shirt pocket.

    We got to the bar and cos I knew the owners we walked through the back entrance. Through the kitchen.
    Nothing. No hello, no recognition. Nothing. I was like, fuck you guys then.

    We walked onto the beach area and I saw a woman, in trousers and shirt digging in the sand around customers tables. RED FUCKING ALERT. Woman - beach - trousers. WTF

    I turned to my Indian pal and said RAID, ditch the dope. I was wearing cutdown jeans and the 4 toller I had on me was in a little draw string bag with 4 packs of small blue Rizla I got from the UK. I had given my pal 2 packs as well. I sat next to another pal of mine and said. Take my Enfield and get that dope out of my house.

    A few minutes later I had a hand on my shoulder. "Hello Sir, please come with me"
    I looked up to see a guy in trousers and shirt and blagging it said. "Fuck off mate, I'm not a poof"
    He replied. "I am polce" (Like I didn't fucking know!)
    So I said, "Well, when you put it like that where are we going?"
    He marched me back into the kitchen area and there is my Indian pal, in handcuffs with blood leaking from his lip. OH FUCKING SHIT! On the stainless steel worktop is 4 toller and 2 x rizla. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

    In the kitchen is the DRUG CHIEF OF POLICE. FUUUUUUUUCK. And another 4 "detectives"
    Thoughts going threw my head were. I saw that c&nts jeep in the car park, WHY DID I NOT FUCK OFF. Can't fight or flee, too many. FUCK

    The word was 10g charis gets you 10 years. A whole fucking kilo in my lounge, sheets of trips and enough Es to keep a london club happy. I am fucked.

    Matey wants to search me.
    Go on then I say, (almost) happy as the dope is down my pants. He does my shirt, finds the wrap which in the panic over dope I had forgot about and squeals in a sadistic way “Cocaine”
    Fuck off mate I say, That’s Ketamine! And with that the draw string bag with the dope in falls out of my shorts onto the sand between my legs. I forgot to put underwear on. School boy mistake. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU UCK!
    I lent forward into his face and said, “Not Cocaine, this is Ketamine! I get it from the chemist, (true) it helps me stay awake when I am DJing” As I am leaning in to him I am squashing the bag into the sand below my feet. When I looked down just a little bit of string was showing which I managed to cover with a quick move of my flip flop.
    He tells me to wait at my table.
    I sit back down with my mate and say “Get the fuck to my place and move the dope!”
    Copper calls me back in and says “You can go”
    Not wanting them to get my motorbike number plate I headed off towards the shore line. It was about a 20 minute walk along the beach to my place.
    Just as I got to the waves I heard “OY”. I turned to look and copper was there waving at me.
    I replied “Moi?” and got “Yea, you”
    I got taken into the kitchen again.
    My draw string bag, 4 tollers and identical Rizla to my Indian pal (still in handcuffs) are on the worktop.
    FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK They found them. Not good. Not good at all.
    Matey starts shouting at me that it is my drugs. I shout back that HE searched me and I didn’t have any. With that I undid my cut down jeans and dropped them.
    Indians do not like nudity. At all.
    I shouted ”Where could I hide them?”
    I turned to baldy boss man and as I did I saw a suited man (detective) take one of my CDs out of my holdall and put it in his jacket pocket.
    Speaking directly at baldy boss I said “That aint my dope mate but the CD your cop just put in his pocket is”
    He shouted in Hindi to the thieving bastard copper and thieving bastard copper put my CD back in my bag.
    Baldy boss (Short arse fucker) walked right up to me and said.
    Today, your lucky day. Fuck off.
    I travelled so fast down the sand I left glass behind.
    Went down to Kerala for 6 weeks the next day. Took my pal with me.

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  3. #202

    Join Date
    Jul 2012
    South of South London a bit
    Thanked 3,170 Times in 972 Posts

    Default Following on from the last story

    Following on from the last story: names are changed for obvious reasons.
    We arrived in Kerala, just the 2 of us to get away from the party madness of Goa. On the 2nd or 3rd day, Anthony, my Goan friend and I are having morning tea at a beach bar overlooking the ocean. Neither of us drank alcohol at that time.
    All of a sudden Anthony says Bobs here! Now, Bob was one of my best pals, we did a lot of business and partying together in those days but he was one of the people I didn’t need round me now, This is take a break time.
    Fuck off Tony I say, thinking he is joking. No, No he says, Bob is here.
    I look behind me and my whole crew has turned up. Pure coincidence! They also thought time for a breather and we all ended up in the same bar 2-300 miles from where we were. What’s the fucking chance?
    They all sit around my table, about 8 in all and Bob gets out a bag and gives each of us an E. It’s not even midday yet. Fuck it, and we are off.
    An hour later, almost perfect timing, an Indian guy in trousers and shirt comes to join us. He introduces himself as the local Chief of police.
    My mates slowly disappear until it is just me and plod. He says to me, “You don’t drink?” I say no.
    He says “I know what you like”
    I say ”No you don’t!”
    He says “I do, cos you see the pretty girl who sells the King size papers from the tin on the beach. She’s my friend!”
    Is this a problem I ask? No, he says, tourists we need. Tourists like weed so we tolerate it.
    Turns out he likes Elvis and I have an Elvis cassette. No idea where it came from. I tell him I can give him the tape. He says “Meet me at sunset in this bar, I know every dealer, I’ll get you the best Kerala weed. We met and off he went but came back empty handed” The weed here is not so good my friend, he says. Meet me in the morning and we go to my friend’s house, He has good weed.
    True to his word we went to his friends house. We had chai and a chillum and I got some weed. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that the weed in England was better! Bless him he was so proud.

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  5. #203

    Join Date
    Jan 2018
    Thanked 7,578 Times in 1,889 Posts


    I remember once when I had a electrician inspection and the inspector wanted access to the room where my grow was located at the time. I refused entry, and said I lost the key to the door, so may be awhile before I find it.

    He says to me, "well I'll have to turn all electricity to the room off until I can inspect in their.

    Me at this this point is having a mini fit as I had a full photo in flower. Extraction was turned off, so the smell was obvious.

    So, while he was out in his van, which gave me about five minutes to sneakily carry a 40L pot full of bud outside and hid it round the back with a big black bin liner over it.

    I then freaked out as he was going to question why their was a big ass tent in the room, so I grabbed any old pile of shit plants from outside and dumped them in their so it looked like I was an ivy grower lmao.

    I'm pretty sure he knew, but I literally was licking his boots at this point just for him to see that I was a nice guy and my intentions aren't illegal

    This was pretty much me lol

    Sent from my SM-N950F using Tapatalk

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  7. #204

    Join Date
    Jul 2012
    South of South London a bit
    Thanked 3,170 Times in 972 Posts

    Default and then leaving India

    So it is time for me to head back to UK. The monsoon has been chucking it down and all tourists have left, Only hard core remainers left.

    When I came to India, 6 plus months ago I had a plan. Go to The Fridge in Brixton for Techno night and then cab to the airport. My mate said he would give me a lift. Touch.

    We get out the club 6.30 ish and head off to the airport, smoking shitloads on the way. When I finally get to Bombay (now Mumbai) about 12 hours later I am hanging. Like, really in a bad way. I got no hotel booked, another 8 hours until my flight down to Goa. And the queue for passport control is long.

    If you have never been to India let me explain. It takes at least 5 people to change some money in the bank. 3 to sell a train ticket. and so on. They are a nation of check it and check it again. Immigration is the worst.

    I'm about number 50 in the queue for immigration and crucially, an entry stamp on my passport. I am dehydrated, on a massive come down and it is really fucking hot and humid even though it is after midnight.

    I spot an oppotunity. A white woman with 2 kids walk through a side gate! WHAT! I'm off. I was out that unguarded gate not 2 minutes later and into the wall of humidity that is Bombay.
    Skip forward 6 months to leaving.

    I get to Bombay airport. I walk up to passport control and hand over my docs. I didn't know this but not having the correct entry stamp in your passport or overstaying your visa is a serious offence. Possibly 2 years in an Indian jail. Not good. No, really, really not good.

    Man looks at my passport, looks again and says, problem.
    Why? I say in my best blag it tone.
    He says "When you come?"
    I show him the old stamp from my previous visi and he says (correctly) You came, you go, Now you here.


    I am in the queue at immigration control, big queue behind me all wanting to get on with there day.

    "Is this a problem?" I ask. (My go to phrase when talking to any Indian of authority)
    Big problem he says.


    So, thinking on my feet I do the only thing that may help. Bribe him.

    I pull a bottle of Blue Label Vodka from my bag and innocently say, "problem solved?"

    No NO! he says, put it away.


    I then put a £50 note in my passport and say to him, "Check again my friend, it is all in order."

    He opens the passport and says. "Wait; I speak to my boss"
    Possibly the longest few minutes of my ife.

    When he returns he simply says "Go"

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  9. #205

    Join Date
    Apr 2020
    Thanked 41 Times in 30 Posts


    I saw this before hella funny!

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  11. #206

    Join Date
    Jun 2014
    Rhyl sun centre
    Thanked 28,595 Times in 6,669 Posts


    My step dad caught me with a sock on my cock reading razzle in my bedroom ....I've never forgot lol just hope he has ffs

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  13. #207

    Join Date
    Jan 2020
    Thanked 194 Times in 92 Posts


    40 years ago, sitting with some friends in a car in a park, just finished a spliff and had a little more in a baggie. Up rolls two sheriffs, they make us get out of the car and search the car, finds a spliff in the ashtray, asks if we had anymore, "no" we say. He pats us down, again finds nothing, he destroys the joint gives us a warning and they drive off, the whole time I had a brass pipe clenched in one hand and about 7 grams in a baggie in the other.

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  15. #208

    Join Date
    Sep 2013
    Thanked 4,190 Times in 1,751 Posts


    Got another one.

    So me, my brother and 2 mates go down to the beach one night for a smoke. We had smoked about 3 or 4 spliffs already and my brother was in the process of building another one when the local police drive onto the beach and head our way. My brother, thinking incredibly quick for someone who's stoned, buries the pollen and unrolled spliff in the sand as they start coming our way.

    Now we werent the cleanest of builders so we're surrounded by bits of ripped up cardboard and skin builds that went wrong so it's clearly obvious what we were doing.

    The coppers got out of the car, walk up to us and start laughing saying just make it easy and they wont arrest us. My brother opens his gob and says "smoked it already mate, unlucky"

    I couldn't believe it. Lemme tell you something about my brother, he once got punched by the biggest cop in town because the copper asked his name to which he replied "fuck you"

    Anyway, the police searched us and found nothing..... then he starts digging around in the sand. 4 times he ran his hands over the spot the spliff was hidden and 4 times our hearts stopped but he didnt find it. They got in their cars and fucked off.

    Then my brother just pops his hand into the sand, pulls out the pollen straight away, followed by the perfectly preserved unrolled spliff 100% sand free and carries on! That cop must have been millimetres away from it but didnt even disturb it let alone find it

    NL Auto (Not Auto) Diary - > LINK <

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  17. #209

    Join Date
    Mar 2016
    Thanked 444 Times in 247 Posts


    good thread! interesting for sure

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