The Crappy Boy by DonD


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Punter Shop Pilferer Put In Pokey By Poo On Shoe -- SYDNEY (Reuters) - A glob of dog excrement on a Queensland robber's shoe has been used as evidence to identify him, landing him with a 10-year stretch for a betting shop hold-up on Australia's Gold Coast. Police said Thursday they had used enhanced photos from a security camera to match the pattern of excrement found at the crime scene to that on 26-year-old Jacob Smith's shoe. "It's not rocket science. It's as plain as poo on your shoe," police sergeant Alan Piper, a veteran scientific officer, was quoted by local media as saying. "It could have been one of a thousand or ten thousand shoes, but because that poo was there it was creating a great big feature that allowed us to go to a positive identification." "I'd say there has been some more poo on the shoe but it has worn away," said Piper, who admitted to also doing a smell test. Smith, who had wrapped a sheet around his face to hide his identity during the heist, was jailed in June for 10 years and 10 months on charges of robbery, being armed and in company and unlawful use of a motor vehicle.

The Crappy Boy by DonD

'Twas there in Sydney I was doing my thing,
Relieving a bookie of the wages of sin.
A simple heist at that bookie's in Sydney
When that mutt crapped me up; he sure did, didn't he?

As I was entering the betting shop,
Face cloth-wrapped to fool any cop,
Cloth-wrapped to defy identification,
But it crapped up my powers of observation.

I was doing my business, breaking the law,
And the mutt did his business, which I never saw,
(Where was his owner with the damn pooper-scooper?)
Setting me up for Sergeant Piper, the trooper.

Off home with the swag, man, jolly, I went,
Not guessing that Piper was hot on the scent,
I sensed a vague stench, saw some stains on the floor,
Never thought that'd be what I was collared for.

The judge said ten years I'd be paying my dues,
Not so much for the theft as the poo on my shoes,
And now all my jailmates a good laugh enjoy,
And the name that they call me is . . .

(wait for it)

. . . the crappy boy!