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Trivial, I know, but….

Is a bit strange that the country’s top policeman doesn’t have the shoulders to carry his epaulettes. Isn’t there anyone who can direct him to a decent tailor to make him a 3/4 size set or something?

24 thoughts on “Trivial, I know, but….”

  1. Epaulettes are for active military personnel who stand straight with their chests out. Senior police officers are desk jockeys who crouch in chairs & for who, march comes after February. The “service” should change to pointed conical hats to display badges of rank. (Any resemblance to dunce caps would be purely coincidental)

  2. This is what continually hunching over to police twitter/X comments will do to you. It’s like the skeletal deformities discovered in English longbowmen in the Hundred Years War.

  3. He doesn’t inspire much confidence or respect does he?

    Could we replace them (I don’t want to assume pronouns of someone who looks like a ponce) with someone a bit more masculine who carries more presence?

  4. Damn, just realised I assumed their pronouns in the first sentence.
    I’ll be off to the gulag for reeducation.
    No doubt I’ll be in the cell with the guy who shouted hurty words at a police dog…

  5. He must have come in through some weird form of “fast-track” recruitment system. Can you imagine him getting involved in “a bit of a rumble” with a group of pissed-up football fans during his probationary-Constable years if he’d gone via the standard track?

  6. My ex Surrey Police mate told me that Rowley was nick-named Joe 90, after the child puppet series. Partly because of his size, but also because he could only hold your interest for 30 minutes. It was said that Surrey improved after he left, While the Met seems to have gone the other way.
    Shirley there’s a toy firm that could make those eppaulettes 3/4 the size?

  7. It would be nice if we could find a person to be England’s most senior policeman who neither looks like nor is an utter cunt.

  8. The best Met Commissioner would be DI Burnside from The Bill, but coppers like him would never get senior ranks in the police today.

  9. To be fair, not having any shoulders is an evolutionary adaption that helps the police more effectively slither through fences to make their escape when they see ethnic minorities committing crimes.

    See also: our honourable judges, who can pinpoint a schoolboy’s underwear in the dark entirely by smell.

  10. It used to be that I mocked people who fussed about physical appearance, their own or other people’s.

    I’ve moderated on this view. Maybe David Cameron was the first Conservative party leader for whom I felt strongly “I don’t like the cut of his jib”. Ditto the current Conservative leadership contender Jenrick. For Labour, Toni Blair. In the US the Scotus judge Kavanaugh.

    This is all separate from other reasons to dislike or distrust public figures e.g. because they are lawyers or gangsters or whatever.

  11. Dennis, He Who Laughs At Self-Important Wogs

    I remember seeing that cunt on TV telling us he was going to extradite any ‘Merican that dared to say something mean about Starmer, Labour or immigrant terrorists, which sparked scorn and derisive laughter from most of us.

    He’s just the type of big talkin’ British pussy that told George III to raise taxes on the Septics because they were pushovers. Then again, if wogs learned from history, they wouldn’t be wogs.

    And besides having the shoulders of a chicken, it appears he still hasn’t mastered how to shave a chin. Obviously one of Britain’s best and brightest.

  12. James Anderton, Chief Constable, Manchester in the eighties – now there was a real copper’s copper.
    Hard- line traditionalist:

    ”He saw the police as a means of providing moral enforcement against “social nonconformists, malingerers, idlers, parasites, spongers, frauds, cheats and unrepentant criminals”, and was a vocal opponent of gay rights, feminism, pornography and those who “openly hanker[ed] after total debauchery and lewdness”.

  13. The last copper I acted for was 7 feet 5. We laughed a couple of years ago at a photo in the Daily Mail of a modern Plod who was 5 feet 4 and 22 stones. The copper was genuinely astonished when a local yob in the quiet Kentish village Mrs Grist and I were residing in at the time threatened him with a bottle, despite being 2 feet shorter. Happy days…

  14. And advise him on a decent barber. Or club (no not a far right incitement to violence) together and buy him fresh blades.
    Or maybe he just wants to look as if he has seen action in that recent festival of diversity.

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