Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Long time, no whatever

Firstly, an apology to the, oh I don't know, eight people that read this blog...
Yeah, sorry about the distinct lack of activity, information-super-highway-wise recently.
But you see...
I has just been maded a dad innit!
So, essentially, I've been spending the past few months preparing for our arrival (read: lose my gaming/guitar den and see it turn into a lovely little nursery), with little time for blogging.

Plus, I recently bought an Xbox 360, and it strangely coincides with the drop in post rates...

But rest assured, I shall return with more tales of daring do, just once my two week's paternity leave is up, eh?

Friday, August 31, 2007

Non-Job related random rant!

The Royal Mail, eh? What a bunch of **** ****-ing ***** ****** ****** etc. etc. etc.
It took them ten days to deliver a birthday card over a distance of less than twenty miles.
Yes, I'll say that again! TEN days to cover TWENTY miles. That's two miles per day.
I could do that.
Whilst hopping.

What is wrong with the Royal Mail, eh? It used to be one of the bastions of British-ness. You trusted them. You felt strangely comforted to see a Postie walking/cycling/skiing past as you walked by. But what's this? Random price increases, unforgivable levels of service for us plebs, closing all but the bare minimum of Post Offices...
But strangely, most businesses get A-star treatment. All of my DVD rental discs are received by the company within a day of my posting. How on God's gay earth can it take ten days to cover twenty miles, but certain articles are delivered half way across the country overnight!!!!!!!!!!!


Friday, August 17, 2007

Unsociable, moi?

Since I've been doing this job now for almost six years, I am pretty much used to inane and seemingly bizarre management decisions made by those on high.
But a recent message from the Gods caused my flabber to be utterly gasted!

A little background first...
I work a shift system. Over an eight week period I work three weekends (a day, evening and night shift of each) about two week's worth of evening shifts (10pm finish) and seven night shifts (10pm through to 8am).
In return for working "unsociable hours", I get paid a shift disturbance allowance (which is calculated as 15% of my basic pay), and the hours I work at the weekend are paid at overtime rates. This amounts to a nice little top up to my salary every month - especially with a new mouth to feed come November!!!

Our glorious leaders have suggested that we do away with the shift allowance and cease payment of overtime for shifts that we are rostered to do.
Their reasoning? Well, apparently we all live in a "24 hour Society" now, and therefore there can be no such thing as "unsociable" hours. This is patently a load of balls!
(The overtime payment issue? To be fair I've always wondered why I get paid overtime for doing a shift that I'm rostered to do anyway, and on top of my shift allowance... but hey, I wasn't going to argue!)

The Union have roundly pooh-poohed the idea, pointing out that it contravenes our contracts etc etc, and to be honest I don't see it ever happening. There will be a sizeable proportion of staff that see this as the last straw, and they will simply walk. Before I was promoted I relied upon getting my shift allowance and overtime, I simply would not have survived without it!

But a more immediate question to ask the management Gods is "So, when will I bump into you at 3am in the office corridors, sir, or is that a little 'unsociable' for you???!"

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

I am 'on call' again tonight, and I'm still not liking it.
I'm used to working an actual night shift, which although tiring and at times a pain in the arse I actually quite liked. Except those summer nights when you are driving to work and you pass multiple pubs were everyone is sat outside enjoying the evening.
I enjoyed the occasional free time to catch up on paper work, the surprise on a victims face when you turn up minutes after the burg occurring. The 'team meetings' at a very late closing Turkish restaurant.
And something simple as knowing something about a job via the radio and therefore expecting the 'aaaannnnnyyy SOCO receiving on this channel'

Now, I just live in fear of my work mobile phone and the dreaded NOKIA ring tone (something i could easily change but I secretly like it). Being woken in the early hours with details of a scene that needs 'forensicating' (yes that phrase has travelled) I can't get used too. Half asleep I just agree to anything and hop in my van and drive. As I slowly wake I start thinking of important questions I should have been asking!
Yes, I get a on call payment to basically sleep at home and to be honest on the rare occasions I actually get called out it fairly straight forward, but I just hate jobs being sprung on me and the initial panic I have when the call comes.
Fingers crossed for a peaceful night.


Friday, August 3, 2007


The Police Service loves jargon. Especially if it's use can demonstrate a complete misunderstanding of the subject in hand. When it comes to SOCO's, there is probably one word that irks us more than any other... In place of "examine", we are regularly asked to "forensicate"...

This word does not exist.

It means nothing.

And yet officers seem compelled to use it at every available opportunity.

A few months ago, one PC went a step further and requested on the crime report that "SOCO fornicate the blood swabs retrieved from the scene." I was sorry to inform the PC that we were unable to process the request on Health & Safety grounds.

Recently I have heard of a great response to any future requests to forensicate...
"SOCO we need you to get down here and forensicate the scene, ASAP!"
"Yeah, sure, but first you'll need to do some Police-icating before we're able to do anything."
"Indeed. Bye now!"

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Welcome to the Civil Service...

I am currently on a training course for new managers.

I was promoted to a managerial position two years ago.

An H.R. spokesperson has probably said:
Oh, yes sir-ree! As an organisation that promotes equality, we like to ensure that everyone gets the chance to experience the sensation of having absolutely sweet-FA of a clue as to what they're supposed to be doing. Then we wait a year or so, and perhaps then we tell them! Or maybe not... I dunno. Ask my boss.

Ladies and Gentlemen, you gotta love the civil service!

Wednesday, July 18, 2007


My friend and former colleague asked me to contribute to his blog and present a different perspective on life as a Scene Examiner within another Police Force. With him working in a very busy area in a very busy city and me in a not very busy area in a not very busy city, in fact not anywhere near a city, just a vast expanse of land occupied by cattle/sheep and the odd farmer and his wife.

Just over 5 years ago I left my home town to start my working life as a Crime Scene Examiner in a major city in the UK. I worked with Negative Result in one of the busiest areas in the city. We had a very good team of staff that were producing excellent results, which often went unnoticed by our Police colleagues. We only identified the offender after all!
The team had another quality, we were all a similar age and liked to drink!

Anyway 5 years of working in a very busy area I decided to retire to the country and become a CSI (CSI - a title I hate, much prefer SOCO, it's a little less flashy). The decision was very tough as I would be leaving a cracking team, my friends and a job I loved. However, the pull of home was strong.

The manic city lifestyle, the night duties from hell, the endless traffic jams, massive organisation that i didn't feel part of, the high crime rate, griefy jobs and my beast of a van all gone, replaced by.........................BOREDOM.
What have I done.