Took this earlier today, Creepy little bastard.

( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 19:58, 5 replies)

Urban Kyaking
A couple of years back I was picking my kids up from the ex in the delightful queens park area of Wrexham. In front of their house is the river Gwenfro which is your typical urban stream, full of shopping trolleys, ford escorts and other unknown chemicals.
The stream is typically about 6 inches deep, however after some heavy rain, it was about 3 foot deep. As I round the corner to my kids house, I see some chap in full kayaking gear happily paddling away down the river of death, he nodded across to me then ducked to go under a foot bridge. Pretty random i thought
(Ba Bam Tsch, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 19:53, Reply)

House of Sher (Cash & Carry)
The most random arrangement of stock I've seen. On one shelf, cheap ornaments and candlesticks. Next to them, 3ft bolt cutters. Next to them? Vibrators and dildos. Is there a connection?
( ThisCaledonianClown has left it far too late, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 19:37, Reply)

This..


No idea how it got there, or why it's there.
(inflateable, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 19:19, 7 replies)

If music be the food of love/Buy a flower guv'
Wavy lines, etc. 4 years BK (Before Kids)

Random 1:
Dream holiday touring Sri Lanka with the missus, staying in different hotels in different towns, getting up early to beat the heat of the day whilst admiring the scenery and doing the whole touristy culture thing.

In the evenings, dinner in the hotel restaurant. On two occasions, in two different towns, our meals were serenaded/spoiled by the Mariachi stylings of "Raindrops". Yes, on an island off the southeast coast of India sitting calmly in the Indian Ocean, populated by Buddhists and Hindus, some bright spark thought a Mexican band was a bright idea!

Random 2:
Same holiday. In the rear of a small Japanese minibus in convoy with other similar vehicles full of equally pink tourists, climbing into the hill country towards the tea plantations, as the road begins to zig-zag up a steep hill.

Near the bottom of the hill is a bloke forlornly trying to sell us flowers, shouting "YOU BUY! YOU BUY!" as he runs after the convoy frantically waving a bunch of exotic blooms. Minibus rounds bend, we lose sight of flower seller and continue our ascent.

Only, as the road straightens out, a suspiciously familiar-looking flower seller appears from nowhere, shouting "YOU BUY!" YOU BUY!" and running after us. We're puzzled. Is this his twin? Has he run so fast he's overtaken our convoy in a blur?

On we go, around the next bend and - yep - there he is again, and the next bend too. On the fifth switchback, we're disappointed to see he's not there, though to be fair he was probably knackered.

It turns out that, while the road meanders up the hillside to lessen the gradient for the underpowered trucks they use in Sri Lanka, the lush jungle of the verge conceals a flight of steps joining each section of the road. This poor bastard would run after us, then leg it up the stairs to try to catch us on the next stretch.

None of us bought his flowers.

Apologies if TL;DR
( Snappyuk gets BIGGER with free sample., Sat 23 Apr 2011, 17:41, 1 reply)

Fridge of beer
When I was living in London just off the Talgarth road, there were these tramps who lived on a grassy bit by the side of the road. They had a fridge there filled with beer cans. The fridge was obviously not plugged into anything, but that was ok as the beer cans were empty anyway....
(DrTeeth, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 17:20, Reply)

A REAL egg!
Yesterday, I blearily trudged the whole ten metres from my house to the corner shop at - what seemed to me - the crack of dawn in order to buy some daily necessities that soon-to-be-Mr-Seventh had neglected to stock up on during the previous day's wallet-wrenching shopping excursion.

The day was bright, which wasn't helping me to feel any more awake and strangely peaceful; a still, calm quiet hovered over the neighbourhood, which I found blissfully soothing. Still mostly asleep, with unbrushed hair,yesterday's clothes and (shame of shame) comfy blue Crocs, I nodded a sleepy greeting at the shop's proprietor and went about gathering the milk, cheese, potatoes and - most importantly - toilet paper, not forgetting the chocolate hobnobs, of course. I was the only customer, soft pop-rock was playing quietly in the background and I experienced a moment of perfect peace and tranquillity, getting my odds and ends of groceries on this lovely day.

Piling my armful of chosen goods on the counter (and sneaking in a cheeky Malteaster bunny as an impulse-buy - damn them for their supertasty tastiness...), I rummaged in my pocket for that loose tenner whilst idly watching the LED total add up my bill. The door opened and a sunnily-dressed woman and an equally summery eight-ish year old girl entered the shop.

I was just handing over the cash, feeling pleased that I'd miraculously managed to buy exactly £9.99 worth of assorted oddments when the child bounced up to me and poked me very hard in the ribs.

Startled, I opened my mouth to politely protest but before I could speak she beamed brightly at me and declared loudly and clearly "I've got a REAL egg!" Illustrating her claim by enthusiastically waving a tiny white egg in my face, she poked me again and bounced a little on her heels, apparently bursting with joy and pride in her possession.

The shopkeeper's face glazed over into utter bafflement and I feel proud in being able to come out with a mumbled "oh? that's very nice, where did you get that from?" but the child was already bouncing away before I'd finished my sentence. I stared after her and she breezily called over her shoulder "It's a PIGEON EGG! I'm going to be a pigeon mummy!" before disappearing round the corner.

Speechless, I paid up and trudged back out with my shopping, still completely clueless why a small child had chosen ME to assault with poking and egg-news.



TL;DR: Shopping at stupid o'clock in the morning whilst half asleep when a child violently pokes me in the ribs, waves small white object in my face and declares "I've got a REAL egg!!" No further explanation was provided.
( Seventh is somewhat subdued, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 15:54, Reply)

Walking to the shop
about an hour ago.. old man walking toward me picks up his walking stick, pretends its a shotgun and "shoots" me.
"ALRIGHT MATE!" then scuttles off.

What a cracker..
(bredstkcriminal, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 15:36, 2 replies)

The Wall of Offerings
From our house there is a short walk up the hill to the nearest bus stop. Just before the bus stop there is a wall perhaps 20m long and about 3ft high, surrounding the shared lawn of some houses. Every time we walk past this wall it has a new offering. A plastic sword. A seemingly freshly cut slice of birthday cake, on a napkin and paper plate with plastic fork. A telephone directory, complete with a slug stuck to it. Socks, several pairs. Make-up (mascara I think). A plastic Hulk figure. A single football boot. CDs. A bath tub - yes, an entire full sized bath tub. Can't recall what else, but we have a photo catalogue of every offering we've found there. The strangest of offerings tend to appear late at night, presumably from people getting off the bus after a night out.

Other random things I've found whilst out walking the dog in the woods: a typewriter. Turntable and DJ lighting set up, down a well in the middle of the woods. Occasionally we walk through the ancient part of the graveyard next to the woods. Last time I was there I found an entire packet of chicken breasts and 12 eggs next to a tree. Defrosted chicken. Within the sale by date, and opened. And a tray of eggs... I'm either thinking that a local nutter was feeding the foxes, or some kids were attempting some kind of black magic ritual.
Also, money. Lots of money. On a regular basis I tend to find notes lying on the floor. Last weekend it was 30 quid. I've probably found over 100 quid just on the floor in the past 12 months.

The finale: Muswell Hill. Muswell Hill is full of random people. There's the guy in small red shorts and trainers who was dancing in the snow outside a restaurant on the broadway. Rather well, and very enthusiastically! But f'me, it was COLD, I would not want to be him wearing those tiny shorts and nowt else. He has also been there several times, clothed, when not snowing. Still dancing away like crazy. And Ben, the chewing gum artist. He paints chewing gum stains on the pavement. Quite often you'll find him just laying on the pavements around Muswell Hill, painting.
( Bathory, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 15:22, 1 reply)

Just this very second
Yay, I have a pertinent answer to the QOTW.

Was searching on Bookface for a mate, there are a few that share his name, the very first one has a picture of a man with an octopus on his head.



It's not him tho but I salute you sir.
(Speshal, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 13:33, 4 replies)

Not random in the true sense of the word...
...but certainly the oddest thing I've seen so far. It was spring 1998 and I was on my way to an early lecture at Strathclyde University, so no booze or massive drugs were involved. Walking through George Square, I came across a very odd sight: an elderly Indian fakir lying sandwiched between two "beds of nails". On top of the man/nails sandwich stood Tommy "suntan" Sheridan berating, through a loudhailer, a crowd comprising three bemused grannies and four police officers. I was running late as usual so didn't have time to stop and ask what the hell was going on. What made it even weirder was that there wasn't a single tv camera or lackey handing out leaflets in sight.
(Burnside79, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 12:14, 5 replies)

I live close to
an old psychiatric asylum. It's mostly close now but the older residents are kept there til their dying days. Now it's not your regular strait jacket asylum, the residents can walk around and do as they like and are mostly harmless.

One particular resident by the name of Tony had become a particular pest in my friends shop hanging around and generally how much is this for every item. He is also a bit of a perve and has harassed young men always looking for a sticky handshake. Being a true capitalist altruist my friend let Tony hang round so long as he was buying.

One particular day Tony comes into the shop looking more than a bit worried. "Joe, Joe, am I going to hell Joe?". Joe perplexed asks why Tony would think he's going to hell? "The Nurses said I'm going to hell Joe".

Joe asks why they would say such a thing? Tony looks guilty for a second then mumbles "I was touching meself Joe...". Initially shocked Joe feels sorry for Tony and says thats its ok and that you don't go to hell for that. Tony then looks Joe square in the eye and says "I think of you when I do it Joe".

Lest to say Joe was shocked but not as shocked when Joe starting screaming "You're gonna burn Tony! You're gonna burn!" as Tony ran from the shop. One weeks barring for him.
( dazbrilliantwhites has been meaning to change this..., Sat 23 Apr 2011, 11:18, 1 reply)

Just yesterday...
I was cycling along a quiet street, trying to negotiate my way past a group of youths who were cycling in the same direction, but all over the road and slowly. It was a fairly narrow piece of road between two rows of houses, and there was no traffic about.

A gap opened in the group, and I eased past a couple of them. The youth at the front (the back wheel of whose bike had once been round) looked at me as I drew alongside him.
"DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME?" he bellowed.
Eh?
"DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME?"
I looked at him quizically. He repeated the question again. "DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME?"
"Not intentionally," I offered.
One of the other youths chimed in: "That's a good answer, mate."

Bored with this, I pulled ahead and down the road; but all the while I could hear the same question being asked again and again, increasingly faint.
"DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME?"

( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 10:05, 2 replies)

Teh Randoms
Like a few other people on here, I live in quite a small town that seems to have more than it's fair share of random/creepy/crazy peoples. We have two trannies, one of whom is possibly the worst tranny in existence, known to us locals as rubber jenny, he/she/it is 50+ years old, wears mini skirts and tights no matter what the weather, even though it/he/she has the skinniest nastiest legs ever, also makes no attempt whatsoever to speak in a feminine voice.
Next there is a colourful character known as sheppy, a mentally challenged individual that enjoys nothing more than hanging around bus stops, waving at cars and dancing to choons he listens to on a variety of devices, ranging from walkmans to full size ghetto blasters that he carries on his shoulder in an old skool stylee. He has been banned from just about every bus stop in the town, as bus drivers often mistake his random wavings as him trying to flag down a bus. They stop, open the doors, then he just continues dancing, and smiling maniacally! He also randomly attacked a guy I went to school with for no reason, even though everyone considers him to be "a harmless nutter", which is rather a contradiction me thinks.
And now to possibly the greatest, in my opinion, random nutjob that resides in our fair village. I like to call him the crazy singing headphone guy. The first time I encountered this individual was late evening, having just returned from quite a long road trip, me and the Mrs stopped off at the local petrol station/off licence to pick up some booze to have a relaxing night in. We are perusing the wine section when all of a sudden we hear a particularly terrible rendition of Roy Orbison's pretty woman, we turn to see a 60ish year old man, wearing Bo Selecta Craig David style headphones, and carrying an early 90's CD Walkman. Fair enough we think, he's just having a sing along, not too crazy considering the other freaks in town, but then things became more disturbing, he started to ad lib! Imagine please, to the tune of pretty woman;
"oh whoa, pretty woman, walking down the street, pretty woman, I'd like to meet you because you seem really nice, much nicer than my wife, I'm going to call the police because I'm going to kill my wife before she kills me, then I'm going to kill myself because my wife's a bitch, oh whoa won't someone call the police because I hate my wife"

He then left of his own accord, leaving several bemused people, including ourselves, a mixture of scared, concerned but also slightly amused! There are plenty more weirdos I could talk about, but then I feel I'd be rambling, well slightly more rambling than I already have.
( Phil McCavity, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 9:26, 9 replies)

I dropped a screwdriver
and the blade jammed between the boards of a verandah floor. The screwdriver stood there quivering.

Barry said "Bet you can't do that again". It turned out I could, but not before I had got tired of picking up the screwdriver.
(Redemption blamed it on the Bossa Nova since, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 5:09, Reply)

Where I live, Random is the norm
Its a small place but attracts more than its fair share of nutters due to its 'spiritual' location.
Events that would seem random anywhere else just get nonchalantly shrugged at when you've lived here long enough .
A man in womens clothing having a full on fist fight with a white robed and turbaned devotee of Sai Baba over the attentions of a middle aged 'crystal' healer , um ok.
The straggly bearded guy who walks up just to tell you, 'you smell of sex, do you want to go to a hotel?'
No, there arent any hotels here, and he just shrugs and walks off.
The day the High St had a flash flood and someone surfed it.
My bloody camera ran out of charge and I will eternally kick myself for not capturing that.
The man who walks around wearing nothing but a wig, splotchy fake tan and a loin cloth.
The night someone with aspirations of being Spiderman somehow managed to crawl up the outside of my building, to pop his head over my 2nd floor windowsill just to say hello as my light was on and my window was open at 2am.
I laughed, we had a random conversation, he thanked me and left, I got on with what i was doing.
The man who stopped me in the street to hand me a broken china cup full of bits of plant material that would 'make me rich' if I burnt it.
The group of buddhist monks that knock on my door to tell me that for small donation to their temple they will bless my house.
The man who handed me a large pink plastic toy mobile phone and said someone wanted to speak to me.
I said 'sorry I'm out of the office' and he then related that into the phone.
The notice stuck to the lamp post at the end of my street asking if anyone had found a post office issue large red rubber band, a phone number was included .
I really had to sit on my hands not to ring just for the fun of it.


You get the idea
Where i live, random is the norm
I bloody love where i live
(insomniac-surfer oh go on then, just this once, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 1:49, 15 replies)

Once during a football match our coach started to spout all kinds of random nonsense, it was hilarious you can see it here as one of my mates recorded it.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzuSOZN4T58







Turns out he was having a stroke
(FondaAccord, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 1:25, Reply)

at my local park

too late.
( madrabbit is fully prepared, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 1:10, 2 replies)

ChromaKey guys
I took the family to Bath, (from the US) for Christmas Holiday. Though we had a cracking time there, the strangest thing we saw was while we were on our way out. While sitting in the rail station we saw, on the far platform, two guys in ChromaKey outfits. One Green and one Blue. I suppose that sort of thing happens in Bath all the time as nobody seemed to give them a second look.
(thanatos, Sat 23 Apr 2011, 0:01, 3 replies)

Pearoast! Huzzah!
Graffiti seen in Auckland, c. late '80s:
"Cats don't really have heads."
(mudskipper, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 23:54, Reply)

Real Panda Car
I was in my late teens and it was an unusually nice day in Helensburgh as I walked along the seafront with cars buzzing back and forth along the road beside me. As I stop to cross the road, however, a car drives past and in the driver seat is someone in a panda costume.

Stuff like that happens there.
(sleekloon Curing Cancer one cell at a time., Fri 22 Apr 2011, 23:49, Reply)

there is a mad old lady tramp who lives in hammersmith
she spends most of her time hobbling across the tesco car park and bringing the main road to a standstill by hobbling across it and then back again.

and every time she sees me, she yells "oi, big tits". and everyone laughs. even if i am wearing a massive coat or sweatshirt. why? why would an old lady do that? why?

i hope she dies.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 23:18, 6 replies)

medium sized drugs
Once, I was walking down the road when a homeless guy stopped me and asked for a cigarette, which he explained was for igniting his crack pipe. He apologised for not having enough to share with me but unfortunately there was just enough for himself. I thanked him, bemusedly, and went on my way.

It was a few minutes later when I wondered "how the fuck do you light a crack pipe with a cigarette?"
(orestes is shitting in the 1940s, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 22:22, 4 replies)

Oranges
Mothership was giving me a lift into town when she pulled over on Chatsworth road and said:
"Peep, can you just pop into that shop there and ask for some Seville oranges"
Would have been fine if it had been a grocers or a supermarket, but it was an *antiques dealers*.
Confused, I went in, said who I was and asked the Nice Lady for the oranges. I had a quick look at the oil paintings, mirrors and walnut tables and then she came back with some oranges.
They eventually got turned into marmalade, and it was rather good.
( Peapod Has returned to the fold on, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 21:28, Reply)

Kelvingrove Park on a rainy monday morning
About 10 years ago on a particularly rainy monday morning in glasgow at around godknowswhat o'clock as I dragged my sorry bedraggled form from the remains of the very last party of the weekend, on my way home to sleep until the next weekend reared it's head (usually around wednesday lunchtime) I decided to take a detour through Kelvingrove park. As I neared what was known locally at the time as "the green beach" (although I'm sure it has had many nicknames over the years - the natives will know it as the one place which is immune to Glasgow's no drinking/taking recreational drugs in public laws) I came across 4 guys dressed as babies - nappies, bonnets and novelty oversized dummies dragging a bath up the hill. Obviously I initially thought I was feeling the remnants of whatever massive drugs I'd been taking the night before and gave myself a bit of a shake and rubbed my eyes to make sure my eyes didn't decieve me, but no, that's exactly what was happening. I slowed to watch what their intentions were and was glad I did. "Here, big man, ye wantin' a go in oor bath?" went the cry. Having made eye contact I thought it rude just to ignore them and walk on so I just waved and shouted back that it was ok they should go on ahead with their venture, however no was not an answer they were going to be satisfied with and 2 minutes later I found myself sitting in a bath being pushed down a grassy slope by 4 grown men dressed as babies in the pissing rain. Having started to enjoy myself I gave them a hand as they started to lug the tub back up the hill when my girlfriend came around the corner from another party.
If I thought the scene I witnessed was a bit odd imagine the difficulty explaining to my girlfriend what I was doing when she witnessed the same scene, but I was also involved in it.

She still had a go too though.

Great days, great days.
(Figmaus, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 21:13, 1 reply)

Can we stop with the 'clever' self-referential posts?
I'm talking about stuff like this.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 18:53, 1 reply)

Pearoast for the mighty Mariolanzaman!!

For some years I used to frequent a certain pub in a less than salubrious area of my home city. Thre were the usual thugs and pikeys in there, they left me alone and I didn't interfere in their wasted lives. I realised one evening that I'd never been in there on a wednesday (free & easy night)so I decided to schlepp over to see what it was like.

It was that evening I met MarioLanza Man.

He was standing at the corner of the bar, a tall rangy figre in a very good but ill-fitting suit, trying to catch anyone's eye. He had the most saggy face I've ever seen, imagine the offspring of a bloodhound, Clement Freud and the cartoon dog Droopy AFTER a massive stroke, you'd be pretty close.I asked the barmaid why everyone was avoiding this chap?

"'Cos he's a total fuckin' bore" she quipped.

I then spent a pleasant evening watching the various locals doing their party pieces. One guy played a song that I knew well and I made the mistake of looking at Mario Lanza Man whilst singing along. He made eye contact and lumbered over to me.
Standing in front of me, he put one hand on my shoulder and said in a deep, cultured voice "Mario Lanza was a light baritone."

He pondered for a second

"They made him sing tenor, and that's what killed him!"

"Oh" I replied, somewhat overcome by his biblical levels of halitosis.

He let go of my shoulder, turned and walked three steps and very noisily shat himself.

"Fuckin' typical" tutted the barmaid, "He's always doing that".


It wasn't until some weeks later that I thought "He's ALWAYS doing that!?"
And they let him back in?

I don't know who was the more eccentric, the staff or Mario Lanza man.


Boring, I know.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 18:43, 1 reply)

Random Person On A Quest
In June of 2002, walking my dog Sparky on a very dark residential street at 2 a.m., I encountered an affable, overweight, long-haired leaping gnome of a fellow. He wanted to know if he was getting any closer to a local Hospital. "I've been walking for miles, man. I feel really, really sick!" I told him he was walking in the right direction, but he had at least two miles to go before he got there. Encouraged by the news, he disappeared into the darkness.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Fri 22 Apr 2011, 18:37, Reply)