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This is a question Eccentrics

We all know someone who's a little bit strange - Mum's UFO abduction secret, or the mad Uncle who isn't allowed within 400 yards of Noel Edmonds.

Tell us about your family eccentrics, or just those you've met but don't think you're related to.

(Suggested by sugar_tits)

(, Thu 30 Oct 2008, 19:08)
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This question is now closed.

Ooooh, my friend just told me a good one.
She had a friend called Daniel Netherton who was an art student. In an effort to be more flamboyant (pretentious), he changed his name to Xavier. For one of his art projects he just did monograms and nothing else. He'd design this huge elaborately artistic ones and even sewed them in all kinds of elaborate threads.

But credit to him - apparently he moved out to LA to work in fancy men's taylors shop, and his monogrammed shirts went down a storm.

Tragically he was killed in a car crash last year, but this raised the value of his shirts. His boss contacted my mate about getting hold of his notes so they could learn how he did these amazing monograms and carry on producing, and sure enough she managed to get hold of them for him.

So now, in this men's taylor in LA, lies a book and on the cover it says "XN Tricks"

Woooo! You've been pun raped!
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 11:02, Reply)
I must be crazy
I've had a programme, "The Damned", stored on my TV box thingy for months. I thought it was a Hammer Horror film and I just hadn't got round to watching it.

Imagine my surprise when on accidently clicking the "i" button then quickly clicking "back up", I happened to glimpse the name "Tony Robinson". Who? I'm not aware of any 60s/70s actor going by that name.

So I clicked "i" again and found that "The Damned" is actually a "Time Team Special" about a field where metal detectorists have found loads of Roman stuff. I'm a metal detectorist myself.

Result!
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 10:52, Reply)
Oh, and my eccentricities extend to meetings.
I fucking hate meetings. I would rather dip my testicles in John McCririck's mouth filled with acid than sit through a meeting. However back in my last job most meetings happened in my office. Which meant that I could just sit at my desk. My desk that has all my toys on it. In meeings I have managed to do the following:

- Dress as a woman (with full foam buxom breasts)
- Fashioned a polystyrene rocket with a razorblade on the end.
- Put that program on the computer that makes it fart at intermittent periods.
- Mimicked every single hand gesture from my boss.
- Made a post-it note mask.
- Drew a giant picture of the starship enterprise attacking a medieval castle with my friend.
- Started a Mexican wave.
- Applauded every item on the agenda.

Ok, not eccentric, just a cunt.
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 10:28, 2 replies)
My family and their friends
Where to start...

My Uncle Frank was actually my Auntie Francis, but she was the third girl and her parents really wanted a boy, so she was always dressed in boy's clothes and called Frank.

My great uncle Wallace insisted on children up to the age of 18 eating in a separate room to the adults. The first time he met me he got out his 'pig book' and estimated my value, if I'd been a pig, based on my height and width.

My great aunt Edie and her husband (who's name I sadly cannot remember) would cook a huge turkey at Christmas, just for the two of them, which would then last until about March. By the end they would be scraping the mould off it before carving.

Mrs Boyd (who lived in the same village as most of my mother's side of the family) would leave at about 7am to catch the train. Before she left she would stand outside and shout up to her husband, still in bed, "Boyd, I've left the house key under the doormat" so that the whole village (probably the whole county) heard.

The shopkeeper in the village was some old biddy who was very nosy. Her shop was mostly empty shelves so she had very little business. There was a high wall around the shop, so the only window in the whole shop which was clean was one corner high up - she would stand on the counter to look over the wall, and kept that one pane clean to see what was going on in the village.

The lady who lived next door to the school was Mrs Whittingham - she used to wear about 7 hats all piled one on top of the other. Whenever a football got kicked over the wall into her garden she punctured it. The boys' (outside) toilets was up against her garden wall so the boys would pee over the (low) wall onto a big bush in her garden, which only served to make her even more angry. The story goes that one boy kicked the ball into her garden, then rushed round to try to get it back before she punctured it. Just as he got into the garden she appeared, so he dived into the pee-soaked bush, which I suppose served him right.
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 10:15, Reply)
This might just be me being an annoying bastard rather than eccentric.
I love the whole "Got your nose" game. I do it to adults. I took my friend Matt's nose, then backed out of the room with a hostage, then sent him pictures of his nose on my phone, then made a ransom note for 15.

I didn't get my 15.
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 10:10, Reply)

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