Anorak | Boy arrested for singing along to sweary song in park

Boy arrested for singing along to sweary song in park

by | 13th, October 2012

“I THINK the arresting officer’s actions were just as abhorrent as the language used by my son,” said Steve Pierce. “I have a big problem with criminalizing a 15-year-old boy over a mistake that wasn’t directed in animosity or meant to assault anybody in any way.”
The problem began when Pierce’s 15-year-old son was in McChesney Park , Port St. Lucie, Florida. The lad was singing along to a tune on his MP3 player. The lyrics included two swears and a “racial slur”.
A passing copper hears the singing and makes an arrest.
Port St. Lucie Police Chief John Bolduc explains:
“We reserve arrest as the last resort, but in this particular case, a point needed to be made.”
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Posted: 13th, October 2012 | In: News Comments (2) | Follow the Comments on our RSS feed: RSS 2.0 | TrackBack | Permalink

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  • The Real Stig

    Twas on the good ship Venus,
    By Christ you should have seen us,
    The figurehead was a whore in bed
    Sucking a dead man’s penis
    The captain of this lugger,
    Was known as a filthy bugger,
    Declared unfit, to shovel shit
    From one ship to another.
    The captain’s wife was Mabel.
    Whenever she was able,
    She’d fornicate with the second mate
    Upon the galley table.
    The Captain’s cat was Saul
    Poor bugger only had one ball,
    His favourite trick was to stand on his prick
    And do shit all over the wall.
    The cabin boy was Kipper,
    A dirty little nipper,
    We stuffed his arse with broken glass
    To circumcise the skipper.
    The captain’s lovely daughter
    Liked swimming in the water
    Delighted squeals came when some eels
    Found her sexual quarters
    The captain’s daughter Charlotte
    Was born and bred a harlot
    Her thighs at night were lily white
    By morning they were scarlet
    The second mate’s name was Andy,
    His balls were long and bandy,
    We filled his arse with molten brass
    For wanking in the brandy.
    The captain’s name was Morgan,
    By Christ he was a gorgon!
    Ten times a day sweet tunes he’d play.
    On his reproductive organ.
    The cook his name was Freeman
    And he was a dirty demon
    He fed the crew on menstrual stew
    And hymens fried in semen
    Another cook was O’Malley,
    He didn’t dilly dally.
    He shot his bolt with such a jolt
    He whitewashed half the galley.
    And the ship’s dog was called Rover
    And we turned the poor thing over
    And ground and ground that faithful hound
    From Teneriffe to Dover
    When we reached our station
    Through skillful navigation
    The ship got sunk in a wave of spunk
    From too much fornication

  • mahatmacoatmabag

    (Original Title: Abdulla Bulbul Ameer)
    (Percy French – 1877)

    The sons of the Prophet are brave men and bold
    And quite unaccustomed to fear
    But the bravest by far in the ranks of the Shah
    Was Abdul Abulbul Amir

    If you wanted a man to encourage the van
    Or harass the foe from the rear
    Storm fort or redoubt, you had only to shout
    For Abdul Abulbul Amir

    Now the heroes were plenty and well known to fame
    In the troops that were led by the Czar
    And the bravest of these was a man by the name
    Of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar

    One day this bold Russian, he shouldered his gun
    And donned his most truculent sneer
    Downtown he did go where he trod on the toe
    Of Abdul Abulbul Amir

    “Young man,” quoth Abdul, “Has life grown so dull
    That you wish to end your career?
    Vile infidel know, you have trod on the toe
    Of Abdul Abulbul Amir”

    “So take your last look at the sunshine and brook
    And send your regrets to the Czar
    For by this I imply, you are going to die
    Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar”

    “My friend, your remarks in the end
    Will avail you but little, I fear
    For you ne’er will survive to repeat them alive
    Mister Abdul Abulbul Amir”

    Then this bold Mameluke drew his trusty skibouk
    Singing, “Allah! Il Allah! Al-lah!”
    And with murderous intent he ferociously went
    For Ivan Skavinsky Skavar

    They parried and thrust, they side-stepped and cussed
    Of blood they spilled a great part
    The philologist blokes, who seldom crack jokes
    Say that hash was first made on the spot

    They fought all that night neath the pale yellow moon
    The din, it was heard from afar
    And huge multitudes came, so great was the fame
    Of Abdul and Ivan Skavar

    As Abdul’s long knife was extracting the life
    In fact he was shouting, “Huzzah!”
    He felt himself struck by that wily Calmuck
    Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar

    The Sultan drove by in his red-breasted fly
    Expecting the victor to cheer
    But he only drew nigh to hear the last sigh
    Of Abdul Abulbul Amir

    Czar Petrovich, too, in his spectacles blue
    Sauntered up in his gold-plated car
    And arrived just in time to exchange a last line
    With Ivan Skavinsky Skavar

    There’s a tomb rises up where the Blue Danube rolls
    And engraved there in characters clear
    Is, “Stranger, when passing, oh pray for the soul
    Of Abdul Abulbul Amir”

    A splash in the Black Sea one dark moonless night
    Caused ripples to spread wide and far
    It was made by a sack fitting close to the back
    Of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar

    A Muscovite maiden her lone vigil keeps
    Neath the light of the cold northern star
    And the name that she murmurs in vain as she weeps
    Is Ivan Skavinsky Skavar