Nah it wasn't closed
We just saw you coming
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Wed 11 Jul 2007, 10:21, Reply)

I went to the north once..
it was fucking closed!
(the.gregster, Wed 11 Jul 2007, 10:20, Reply)

Headless
I used to work in the legal profession.

A decapitated body was found not far from where my mother lives

My mother, knowing that I would probably have some inside information called me at work and said "Are they sure it wasn't suicide?"

My response was "almost certain"

Barking
(awaypigs, Wed 11 Jul 2007, 9:29, Reply)

Pappa
My Dad said he once smeared some hot English mustard on a cats arse to see what would happen.

"I thought he'd run around backwards with his tail in the air".

Oh, and as per a previous post, he killed my brother's pet rabbit, skinned it, cooked it and served it up for dinner one night.

That man can never receive enough love on Father's Day. The man's a loon and a genius.
(Mozchops ... just not in the face, Wed 11 Jul 2007, 8:58, Reply)

My Grandad...
My Grandad once told me a fantastic story. He used to belong to a cycling club 'back in the day', and while they were out on a long countryside race one time he got chatting to a girl on a bike next to him.

When they pulled up for a break at a pub, there was this lovely hotel over the road, and the girl kept eyeing it, eyeing my Grandad, and saying things like "Ooh, isn't that a nice hotel."

Grandad told his mate this, his mate said "Have a weekend in that hotel, son, it'd do you good" or words to that effect. "Hmm", thought my Grandad.

So anyway, next weekend, goes to the hotel, has a (in his words) 'lovely time'.

Next weekend again, girl won't talk to Grandad. Keeps giving him sour looks, won't ride next to him, etc. Perplexed, Grandad goes to talk to mate again, explains the situation.

"You idiot," says mate, "You were supposed to bloody take her with you!"

When he told me this I curled up on Morrison's aisle floor crying with laughter.
(Vis with a wink and a wiggle..., Wed 11 Jul 2007, 8:54, Reply)

My Brother in Law.....
.. has tourettes.

Oh how I *wished* he had the sweary version.

Apart from the general facial tics guerneying, he's at his funniest when for no reason he blurts out with Three Stooges noises.... Woo Woo Woo Woo.. Nyuk Nyuk Nyuk....

Being that he's had torette's longer than it has been accepted in society, he *used* to be a mentor in the local tourette's society, helping the young kids and newly diagnosed sufferers in overcoming the public stigma of it all.

I say *used* to be as he quit after a while becase, and I quoute, "They are all fnucking NUTTERS"

(Mr Pot, let me introduce you to the indigenous Mr Kettle)
(Sir Jester, Wed 11 Jul 2007, 6:29, Reply)

when my brother gets angry...
...he threatens to 'rape everyone you know'. Inspired.
(mmmkay, Wed 11 Jul 2007, 2:41, Reply)

my mums gone bonkers
My old mum i can swear has lost the plot a little a couple of years ago i walk into the kitchen to see her holding a can of coke and attacking it with a knife trying to open it. i ask her whats going on and she replies " how do u open these damn cans"
(Reedio_uk, Wed 11 Jul 2007, 0:51, Reply)

My Dear Old Gran
Is fucking loopy. I love her with all my heart, but she lost it long ago... All of the following are true:

1. She recently went on a computing course for seniors (turning it on and off is about as advanced as it gets) She told me that she learned radar, and I believed her, untill she started to speak about Word Processing....

2. She regularly talks to herself, and farts loudly in the company of others. She'll have a go at you if you do the same.

3. The peis du resistance... Once upon a time, when I was a wee DanS, she took me on a walk to the local fruit farm, (where they sell local fuit juice, wine, fruits themselves, etc.)

We walked down the country lane, which had deep, thin ditches either side (for the area often floods) when all of a sudden she spotted a brifcase in the said ditch.

As she is old and frail, I was sent into the ditch to retrieve it, so we could have a further inspection.

I jumped in like asked, with stinging nettles brushing me and ankle deep in muddy water, and picked up the briefcase and put it in the road.

A foul stench hit my nose. I assumed it was the sheep feaces lining the ditch, and proceeded to open the breifcase.

Fortunatley, it didnt have a number code, so I pressed the two latches on the side, and lifted the lid...my eyes were presented with the wonderful sight of....

Vomit. Yes, somebody had thrown up in a briefcase and dumped it in the side of the road.

Rather than throwing it back, my Gran emptied the case, and took it home to wash it out, and kept it.


Bless her.
(DanS like you've never DanSed before!, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 23:17, Reply)

Oh bollocks
Found out the Grandmother intended to come and stay this weekend. I went fucking crazy.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 23:07, Reply)

daft mum
we were on holiday in florida and were making our ways across the Keyes, which if you don't know are connected by lots of quite long bridges. Half way towards Key West my mum pipes up.

Norm, are these bridges man made?

she also calls Rio Ferdinand 'Him-as-has-hair-has-had-none' in reference to when he grew his cornrow mullet and Jamie Redknapp 'him-as-we-saw' as my mum had indeed once seen him in Liverpool.
(spike starski, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 22:26, Reply)

. . .
My family is officially mental. My aunt in Ireland has manic depression, which is turn makes her an alcoholic, whilst actully being a pyschotherapist herself.

My other aunt has a boyfriend younger than mine and has suffered from bulimia for as long as I can remember. She was sneaking off to puke on her wedding day. Her husbandleft her to be with the opposite of her and her kids hate her. Nice.

Then we have my uncle who started out on the weed as a teenager, which turned to speed, which turned to drink and now he's a 50 year old manic depressive schizophrenic living with his mum. He had to move out of his last place after he boarded himself into his flat, claiming his neighbours were changing the eys on his paintings. I hate his guts and actually can't wait till he dies cause the damage his continued drinking is doing to my family is awful.

And there is my mum, of course. Being the black sleep, she only has clinical depression which in turn made her drink more, which in turn lead to me getting the shit kicked out of me everynight for 2 years and a whole other host of crap. Eventually she was put in a mental instituition in St Laurances (the famous one in Bodmin) before being transfered to a dry out clinic, but we pretty much get along now.

First post, wooo!
(missc, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 22:00, Reply)

My little nan
Has been bonkers for years. She refused to venture much further than her front door for about twenty years* and has a penchant for covering surfaces with as much kitchen roll as possible. She hates Gloria Hunniford with a unexplained venom and will just vaguely allude to 'the IRA' under her breath. She will use the word 'twat' with abandon and make inappropriate jokes about hedgehogs making love 'very carefully'.

One Christmas, we all sat eating and decided to pull the crackers. My brother and nan shared one, and out fell a bag of marbles.
My bro promptly quips,'So that's where they got to Nan!'

Cue gales of laughter from the table.
She didn't cotton on for a good ten minutes bless her!



*It's only as an adult I realised this is probably agoraphobia
(Medibot, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 21:27, Reply)

Southern wankrags...
...can all just fook right off.

Oh, sorry. I thought this was /talk for a second.
(Home Bargains was last seen wanking like a safari park chimp:, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 20:03, Reply)

My Half-sisters partner
shouted NIGGER! in a crowded restaurant the other day. Not sure if that counts as crazy, but my family seem to be pretty normal compared to the rest of you.
(littlenipple hate's bad grammar, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 19:43, Reply)

he died without benefit of clergy
I used to dread the visits to my Great Aunt Theresa's house.

She lived with her brother who I'm assured was as "reality-starved" as her but didn't hardly say a word.

When I was 6 or 7, she was telling us about the large family of people (called 'morons' apparently) that lived in the rug in the hall. She seemed terrified of them so I thought I'd protect her & stamp all over them. She got terribly upset & we had to leave a bit smartish.

The year after that, we were on our annual visit just before Christmas & noticed that her budgie (Joey) had coughed it & was lying, feet up, at the bottom of the cage. My Dad pointed out to her in no uncertain terms that Joey was dead. She wouldn't hear a word of it. That budgie was alive and you'd be a fool to suggest otherwise.

The next year, Joey was still at the bottom of the cage. Mum urged us not to say anything, so we didn't.

When we returned the next year & found Joey still in the same place, I decided to mention it. She leaned over him & started talking to him. She pointed out to me that his chest feathers were moving so he must be alive because he's breathing.

Being Mr Diplomacy, I didn't reply that it was only her breath moving Joey's feathers and that the poor lad would have difficulty breathing with the empty ribcage & dried up skull that I was currently looking at.
( four styx, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 19:18, Reply)

My aunt is crazy
Crazy awesome, that is. Family legend has it that she once helped her (not quite sure what nationality he is, but definitely Mediterranean) boyfriend escape from a prison train. She has wildly died spiky hair and is married to the very spit of the stereotypical big fat jovial American. Who is part Cherokee. Pretty awesome.
(Daktar can't fit his desired text in here., Tue 10 Jul 2007, 19:15, Reply)

Utterly spacko
My sister in law is quite, quite mad.

She once during conversation remarked that she didn't know who Abba were. So, she was asked, how could she have not have heard of Abba, while growing up in the 70s?

Her incredulous response was that she'd been in outer space for 10 years. She also believed that the cat was speaking to her and that a witch lived under her house.

She was, quite frankly, utterly hat-stand.

Unfortunately her husband is not much better, being my elder brother and being quite quite deranged beyond all measure. Notable party pieces include thieving the old dears car and parking it in a ditch upside down, abandoning his 14 year old daughter after my wedding, and threatening to stab my sister over an argument about how a microwave operates. He's a cnut, to be honest, and won't be missed when he inevitably offs himself (the twat).
(mymilkshakebringsallthemongstotheyard poison hearts, poison minds - joining hate, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 19:03, Reply)

My Dad
likes to roam around in loose shorts and sandals. Not that scary until you realize he's wearing white claf socks. Ok, maybe not that crazy but it bothers me. Should I be worried though that my g/f identifies with Scarlet (of JJ fame) quite strongly? But then again, I do so identify with Kat....
( kitty minion Babies ate my dingo!, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 17:48, Reply)

Pronounciation
If we're going to get into dialectic disputes, your lot will lose, frank. There is only one correct form of English and it is the version the Queen speaks. You never hear her banging on about her ferrets or going doon t'pit. Ergo we win.

CRAZY!
( Kroney, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 17:42, Reply)

Grass v Grarse
If any proof were needed that southerners were a bunch of ponces - and crazy - it's the ridiculous way they pronounce grass (grarse), bath (barth) and castle (carstle). But at the same time they don't say bart (bat), spart (spat) or marsturbate (you get the idea). Thus, northerners win on logic.
(frankspencer, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 17:24, Reply)

crazy cousins
i have a few potty cousins but this one really sticks out to me.

i have this cousin who lives up in scotland, a little younger than myself, who's really into the WW2 japanses Kamikaze pilots (he's whitetrash BTw), so much so that he tries to emulate them and has done for a number of years by crashing into parked cars yelling BANZAIIIIIII!. god knows how many times he's gone to hospital. but one event i actually whitnessed, he had just had a moped bought by his parents (it was in a nice red and white colour...) and so was absolutly ecstatic. i had to go to the pub for a bit (hair of the dog), when i returned he had attached wings and 'bombs' of flour onto his moped and was racing round the cul de sac untill someone parked up their car. there was a yell of 'BANZAIIII!' then he went headon to the parked car, he hit it then there was a puff of flour a spectacular site to behold. just wish i had got pictures :(
( Dances with Rabbits Back to Education i go, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 17:07, Reply)

Irish Grannies
Irish Grannies have popped up a lot on here. My mums mum was an Irish COUNTRY granny. She lives in the middle of nowhere, with 2 of her 12/13 (I'm not sure!) children. The house didn't have a toilet, bath or shower up until 8 or 9 years ago, and I used to dread visiting incase I needed to use the loo. She couldn't drive, had never had a job and was bipolar. Once, during one of her highs, she went missing. People were frantic. She turns up on her daughters doorstep. In Brixton, in London. She had made it all the way herself, without telling anyone. My Aunt is surprised, and lets her in. Next day, nana goes missing again. My Aunt goes crazy looking for her. A few hours later she turns up. She had been "Out for a walk and meeting some of the locals". In Brixton.
On the other side, my dads mum gambled, drank like a fish and took bucketfulls of pills. All from her chair. She couldn't leave the house much, and as she lived with us, from a very young age I was well known in the pub, the bookies and the chemist. In the middle of the night she had me making hot whiskeys, and food for her. Or during the day, adding whiskey to her milk so my dad wouldn't notice. She had me hooked on coffee before I could walk, and would let me buy sweets when she made money on the horses. She lived with us till she died, and, when she knew the end was near, she called all the family seperatly in to tell them goodbye. My little piece of advise? "For Gods sake, watch out for boys, or you'll end up pregnant!"
Em... Thanks nana.
But the two of them are great ladies, and not really all that mad. But my inspiration. I love my nanas!
(Beauty School Drop-out, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 16:50, Reply)

My mates aunt
is a multi millionaire and a bit batty. Last christmas he got a single orange in a basket. With cloves stuck in it, so he couldn't even eat it.
( DumbMonkey The penis mightier than the sword, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 16:45, Reply)

come on legless
sort them out!
( rachelswipe with a fork, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 16:43, Reply)

And
right across the M1 southbound.
( Kroney, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 16:41, Reply)

Hadrians wall
Should have been built near that gap in Watford.

This is all I'm saying.
(The_Greyhound wrote www.luckymcdanger.blog.co.uk on, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 16:40, Reply)

My mum, bless her
We threw her a surprise party for her 70th birthday a few years ago, not long after her hip replacement.
My uncle took her to the local pub for a drink whilst the rest of us set the party up.
We did the obligatory 'Surprise!' yell as she returned. She looked back at us with a strange glazed expression.
Turns out that the small glass of wine she'd had in the pub had reacted with her post op painkillers.
She called me the next day. 'Thank you for the lovely party. Did I enjoy myself?'
And to think, I pay good money to get into that state.
(rubberballoons, Tue 10 Jul 2007, 16:22, Reply)