Cops, Capers & Custard

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Cops, Capers & Custard Frankie & Kirkey-two ex-cops who once kept the mean streets of Slough safe-talk coppering and stuff.

Ever wondered what happens when a cop needs an emergency loo break, forgets his sock etiquette at a mosque, or uses sire...
13/11/2025

Ever wondered what happens when a cop needs an emergency loo break, forgets his sock etiquette at a mosque, or uses sirens to chase his own wife? Spoiler: it’s not in the training manual.

Dive into my latest piece for tales of blue-lighting it back to dignity, decorum, and occasionally ASDA.
https://kirkeytalk.com/blue-light-capers/

As an ex-cop I find many police dramas mildly irritating. It’s normally the process issues that make my teeth grind, such as a uniformed officer standing guard at the interview room door as the heroic plain clothed detectives place the hapless suspect in checkmate. With custody alarms readily avai...

Coming soon on www.kirkeytalk.com … The Baton of Dishonour.From wooden relics that belonged in a museum to aluminium bat...
03/11/2025

Coming soon on www.kirkeytalk.com … The Baton of Dishonour.

From wooden relics that belonged in a museum to aluminium batons that doubled as comedy props, my policing career was full of improvisation, absurdity, and the occasional flash of brilliance.

There was the time I nearly smashed a patio door with my new sidearm. The time a lad’s dad shouted, “Hit him!” mid-fracas. And the time I hit a bloke built like a brick sh*****se with everything I had - baton, CS spray, the lot - and he blinked like I’d offered him a facial.

This one’s for the baton that bounced off more legs than it ever subdued.

Image: Andy Thornley

02/11/2025

I've reached the season of life where 60th birthdays are no longer rare, and work reunions carry the silent weight of those who will never attend again.

The next twenty years—if I'm fortunate—are my golden age. If I can sidestep the big C and keep my mind sharp, I know time will still gently erode my strength and agility. So I choose to live now, fully and fiercely. To chase every dream, create lasting memories, and embrace every desire I’ve ever shelved for “someday.”

Because someday is now.

Life is short. Take the trip. Buy the shoes. Eat the cake.

And tell those that sap your strength to f**k off!

Thanks Paula Searle for inspiring this reflection!

Whenever I pass through Slough railway station I’m always reminded of the time when Laurie Rush and I nicked a bloke and...
29/10/2025

Whenever I pass through Slough railway station I’m always reminded of the time when Laurie Rush and I nicked a bloke and ended up placing him on the floor with my baton under his arm and across his shoulders.

Even today I’m still shocked that I applied the move with such skill and finesse.

Whilst struggling to contain the urchin I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned my head and heard the infamous line, “which platform do I need for the London bound train?”

Coming soon on www.kirkeytalk.com …Blue Light CapersFrom dodgy socks at a mosque to a bowel-busting dash from the Runnin...
15/10/2025

Coming soon on www.kirkeytalk.com

Blue Light Capers

From dodgy socks at a mosque to a bowel-busting dash from the Running Horse pub, my time behind the wheel of a police car wasn’t always about chasing villains—it was sometimes about outrunning embarrassment.

In this nostalgic romp through the eccentricities of 80s and 90s policing, I reflect on the dramas that TV rarely gets right, the shows that nailed it (“The Bill” & “Blue Lights”), and the real-life capers that made the job unforgettable.

Before body cams and bureaucracy, there was camaraderie, chaos… and the occasional blue-lighted sprint to ASDA.

Read it. Laugh. Reflect. Just don’t speed off like Bert’s wife.

Coming soon on www.kirkeytalk.com …Forget Me Not: Why I Only Remember the Vibe.Ever been accused of not listening, forge...
14/10/2025

Coming soon on www.kirkeytalk.com

Forget Me Not: Why I Only Remember the Vibe.

Ever been accused of not listening, forgetting the “important stuff,” or zoning out mid-conversation? Same here. But what if it’s not forgetfulness — it’s emotional curation?

From speedway stats to Level 42 lyrics, my memory thrives on vibe over trivia, meaning over minutiae. Turns out, the brain’s not a filing cabinet — it’s a storyteller. And mine prefers metaphors, narrative glue, and the occasional naked refuse collector.

07/10/2025

My day (so far) ...

I never imagined that a complimentary cup of tea at John Lewis and a free cinema ticket from Sky would spark such a profound shift in perspective.

Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale wasn’t my choice. On the surface, it embodied everything I recoil from—entrenched privilege, inherited power, and the polished veneer of inequality.

And yet, beneath the aristocratic gloss, I found something unexpected: a tapestry of connection. People from vastly different social strata bound by loyalty, friendship, and—sometimes—love.

It reminded me that humanity transcends labels. It’s not about colour, creed, or sexuality. It’s about character.

As Martin Luther King Jr. so powerfully said:
“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character.”

02/10/2025

Well done Greater Manchester Police.

Rapidly attending a scene of utter carnage they neutralised the substantial threat and no doubt saved many lives.

An horrific attack brought to an immediate conclusion by a bunch of real heroes. Thank you.

01/10/2025

Calling all my police chums!

Blue light bo****ks …

I’d like to write a fun piece about the improper use of the blue lights. I guarantee your anonymity!

Here are a couple of mine …

I attended an alarm activation at the Running Horse in Bracknell (a false one as most of them were) and felt my guts turning. I knew that I needed to simply sit on the throne and explode. Rather than embarrass myself at the Runner I blue-lighted it back to the nick – just in time!

In my days at Slough as an Inspector I was invited to a team day to talk about interviewing skills at a local mosque. When I arrived the gravity of the situation hit me – a line of police boots neatly lined up outside. F**k! I was wearing my white socks with holes in! I immediately put the blues on and raced to ASDA to purchase some black ones. I blue-lighted it back because now it was a real emergency as I was late.

Over to you …

25/09/2025

Call for Contributors: Your Voice Matters.

I’m a journalist and feature writer. Visibly, I tick every box of the dominant demographic—white, male, 6’2”, bald. If Anglo-Saxon had a mascot, I’d be it. All I’m missing is a pair of Union Jack shorts.
But beneath that surface is fear. A deep, gnawing fear about the direction this country is heading.

If someone like me—unlikely to be targeted by the rancid elements among us—feels this way, how must it feel for those who are? People of colour. LGBTQ+ individuals. Those who speak with a non-indigenous accent. Those whose very existence is weaponised by the likes of Farage, Yaxley-Lennon, and their ilk.

I want to hear from you. Your story. Your truth. Your experience.

Please DM me if you’re willing to share. Let’s shine a light where others sow shadows.

Sticks and stones: but how harmful are nicknames?
27/08/2025

Sticks and stones: but how harmful are nicknames?

Amongst the lies we tell ourselves, the childhood rhyme of “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me,” figures fairly highly in the deception stakes. In adulthood this proverb is usually reinforced by the misplaced mantra, “It never did me any harm.” Granted, not al...

Coming soon on www.kirkeytalk.com …Sticks and stones: but how harmful are nicknames?
08/08/2025

Coming soon on www.kirkeytalk.com

Sticks and stones: but how harmful are nicknames?

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