Paul King. Photographer, snitch.

Drunken tarts get lift from paramedic shocker!

I had been in town taking photographs of the St Patrick's Day [17 March] celebrations. I saw a paramedic's vehicle, I went to see what was going on and out popped all these ladies.

Seems okay so far, yes?  Shall we proceed?

I was amazed and took photographs.

What, tarts out on a booze up is so totally unheard of in Berkshire is it? Or was it the very idea that a drone of the state had the temerity to actually behave like a civilised human being that made your dick itch?  Well it must have I guess because then, for whatever bizarre though processes pass between your easily amazed brain cells,  you report the Paramedic for joining in the atmosphere of St. Paddy's day and publish the photos.

It is absolutely disgusting and what worries me is the number of real emergencies that were kept waiting while this was going on.

Well of that, you've got no fucking idea do you, you joyless, meddling, tittle-tattling cunt?

At least the ambulance people seem to have a slightly clearer view (presumably because they are working from facts Mr King, not jealousy.)

Our responder was informed by a member of the public that one of the members of a group of females was having difficulty and kept falling over around the corner from his location. He responded at normal speed to the location and found four females, one of whom was lying on the floor. He inquired if assistance was required and, after assessing that there was no injury or illness that required hospital intervention, he took the four females at normal speed without turning on his emergency lights or sirens to Reading train station so that they could make their way home safely.

Which is exactly the kind of response I'd expect from a decent person.  Which you're obviously not Mr King but instead a cynical, jealous turd.  "Waaaaah, he has totty in his car and I don't.  Waaaaaaah."

Cunt.