Crazy Relatives
curvylittlegoth writes, "My Grandma is crazy, crazy mad. As well as regularly putting curses on us all, she once fell asleep in the armchair on a sunny afternoon, Barley Wine in one hand, Peter Stuyveson in the other, only to wake up several hours later to a Darth Vader sounding fireman. She thought she was in HELL as the smoke and flames billowed round her..."
Are any of your relatives this loopy?
( , Thu 5 Jul 2007, 15:59)
curvylittlegoth writes, "My Grandma is crazy, crazy mad. As well as regularly putting curses on us all, she once fell asleep in the armchair on a sunny afternoon, Barley Wine in one hand, Peter Stuyveson in the other, only to wake up several hours later to a Darth Vader sounding fireman. She thought she was in HELL as the smoke and flames billowed round her..."
Are any of your relatives this loopy?
( , Thu 5 Jul 2007, 15:59)
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Seeing as most of the stories relate to mad grandfathers
here's one about mine.
My grandad died aged 92, a few years back, but for a good while before that he was going daft (there's probably some proper medical term for "going daft" but you get the idea). Anyway, my favourite story about him is that one morning my gran awoke to find my grandad in the bedroom putting on his black suit (over his pyjamas!) and about to put on a black tie.
"What are you dressed like that for?" she asked.
"I'm goin' tae a funeral", came the indignant reply.
"Eh? Whose funeral?"
He thought for a second or two....
"Damned if I ken!"
And that was that, so he took off the suit and got back into bed.
Fortunately, he was quite at ease with his condition in that he didn't know he had it, and although in the end he didn't know where he was or what day it was, he was quite happy.
Plenty more stories about him to come, I feel....
( , Fri 6 Jul 2007, 8:37, Reply)
here's one about mine.
My grandad died aged 92, a few years back, but for a good while before that he was going daft (there's probably some proper medical term for "going daft" but you get the idea). Anyway, my favourite story about him is that one morning my gran awoke to find my grandad in the bedroom putting on his black suit (over his pyjamas!) and about to put on a black tie.
"What are you dressed like that for?" she asked.
"I'm goin' tae a funeral", came the indignant reply.
"Eh? Whose funeral?"
He thought for a second or two....
"Damned if I ken!"
And that was that, so he took off the suit and got back into bed.
Fortunately, he was quite at ease with his condition in that he didn't know he had it, and although in the end he didn't know where he was or what day it was, he was quite happy.
Plenty more stories about him to come, I feel....
( , Fri 6 Jul 2007, 8:37, Reply)
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