b3ta.com qotw
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Home » Question of the Week » Eccentrics » Page 14 | Search
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)
Pages: Latest, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, ... 1

This question is now closed.

BigD's Post reminded me
I always have to fight the urge to say thank you to cash machines...

I think I'm normal in pretty much every other way but feel this need to be polite to these inanimate objects that spunk money when you press the right buttons
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 9:49, 2 replies)
Eccentricity fail
When I was 9, and therefore at the age where boys would exaggerate or invent things about themselves (mad illnesses, gory operations etc.), for some reason I decided to tell people at my new school that I was allergic to sweets, and could only eat milk chocolate. Of course, that just meant I had to stay "in character" for the next few years until everybody had forgotten, to save being uncovered as a fraud.
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 9:07, Reply)
My Aunty (again)
... was pissed up and decided to clean the windows. She fell off the ladder and down three flights of stairs. 35 years of daily agony later and the windows weren't even hers.
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 8:56, Reply)
My Aunty
... took someone's baby home from the hospital. However, she did return it hours later, as her husband insisted.
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 8:54, Reply)
I'm thinking of returning to live in the UK...
...from Cairns, Australia.

A bit more than eccentric I fear.
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 6:43, 2 replies)
in that case
FIRST, hhaaaahhaaaa
in yer face
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 6:42, 2 replies)
I'm slightly eccentric:
I always want to get the last word in.
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 4:31, 3 replies)
apprently theres a test
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 1:35, Reply)
Hell's bells...
I don't consider myself eccentric, but after reading a few of the self-indulgent posts and finding myself sympathising with them I thought I should join in and post about myself too. What laughs...

Lookwise I'm not too bad. My hair reaches my knees and I dress mostly in bright green but I see that as just being colourful and happy.

When I was wee I used to lie about things, such as telling my parent's friends I would be having major operations soon. I also used to believe that blowing on my hands would blow the germs away, but they had to be even- couldn't blow on one more than the other. Mum put a stop to that.

In my head sometimes my thoughts seemingly go round and round and even though I try really hard, I can never stop the spinning. That's very annoying that is...

Now my imagination has expanded rapidly and my favourite hobby is daydreaming. I can happily sit on trains for hoooours and love it. I zone out all the time, even when I'm talking. It's especially bad when I'm on my own, or very lost in my thoughts, as I find myself starting to act out what I'm imagining. Pulling faces (smiling when I imagine I'm smiling and so forth) is just the beginning.

For instance, one minute I can be having a shower dreaming what would happen if I ever went back to ancient Egypt and the next thing I know I'm showing the Pharoah how shampoo works, picking up bottles and muttering what I imagine I'm saying. It can be a wee while before I realise and stop.

I'm as normal as anyone else though.
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 0:59, 1 reply)
Not sure if my lot are ecentric or ill.
My Mother had a breakdown in 1993 and required me to give up my life to look after her, things came to a head when in 1995 when I decided that I wanted to go to University. I chose to leave home, which had my Mother threaten to disown me, kill her self and made her tell me that my siblings hated me for leaving them. In the end my Younger Sister drove my Mother to the local suspension bridge and dared her to jump off of it, just to shut the whining bitch up!

My Mothers sister once tried to kill her Husband, but got away with it.

All through my childhood my Mother claimed to be followed by UFO's and to have spirit guides and later joined a strange American Cult. That lasted until she found Christianity. This faith lasted until this year, when some one told her that she must be a Buddhist, so she did.

Most of my Mothers family have suffered with severe depression or acute mental illness. My Mothers Grandmother was allowed to live in a special place with a lot of other loonies who they kept locked up.

My Sister and I both live in fear of becoming like our Mother, so much so that we can go too far the other way. We refuse to acknowledge illness, because our Mother was always dying through out our childhood. We have both been proscribed anti depressants to deal with emotional problems given to us by our Mother. Mental illness is cruel and damaging.

I have been assessed by several psychiatrists all of whom have declared me to be completely sane, in fact I have been declared so sane that I was allowed to have my willy sliced off.

My Brother wont speak to me because I am different to the norm...
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 0:43, 7 replies)
The Shoe Tree
In Colac Otway (near Beech Forest) there's a shoe tree, with shoes nailed on and flung all over it... in the middle of bush and farmland on a two-lane bitumen road.
I remember the first time I heard of it I was so confused by the idea that I imagined an old woman nailing shoes stolen from children's feet to the tree at midnight.
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 0:27, 1 reply)
me? i think.
I usually have my earphones in while i'm on the bus / train, but i have no music playing, they are there purely so that strangers don't bother me and also so i can have a sneaky eavesdrop on their conversation. Then, just when they think it's safe to talk, BAM, I interrupt them.

Odd, or just misled?

You tell me.... then i'll interrupt you.
(, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 0:25, 2 replies)
I've got CDO.
It's like OCD but I'll be damned if I don't put it in alphabetical order.
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 23:22, Reply)
OK, so not very eccentric.
I talk to myself all the time and have done for as long as I can remember.
I'm told by people who know me that I'm constantly giving a running commentary on what I'm doing:
"What was I doing? Oh yes, making a drink. Then I'll run the hoover round.." That sort of thing.
There must be somebody else under the age of 60 that does this.

I say "Thank you" to sliding doors too. (I think I started it as a private joke then found I couldn't stop.)
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 22:42, 4 replies)
Sorry I'm late
In Wellington there be a man who is decidedly eccentric.

Eccentric enough to be listed in Wikipedia - en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blanket_Man
and to also have a number of websites dedicated to his fashion sense.

Blanket Man, also known as "Bro" can be found in Courtenay Place in central Wellington most days dressed in only a loin cloth and blanket, rain or shine, winter or summer. The loin cloth is a relatively recent addition brought about by numerous convictions for public indecency and a final warning.

He's normally pretty wasted on weed, sipping something from an energy drink can, sitting in the gutter and listening to music on his MP3 player. If he recognises you he'll nod his head or greet you with a cheery "Bro". He's harmless, but it's always been a bit of a shock to turn a corner and see this figure sitting in a gutter, a blanket over his shoulder, ear phones in - in the middle of winter.

He has his own sleeping 'possie', an unused exit door to a department store, where he keeps his "bedding" during the day. I've never heard of it being touched or stolen. Right enough who would steal a load of cardboard and another dirty blanket?

He's become an icon in Wellies with just about everybody knowing who he is though most giving him a wide berth.

To sit day after day in all weathers while only wearing a loin cloth and sitting on his blanket is truly eccentric. Or maybe the copious amounts of weed has slightly frazzled his brain?
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 22:25, Reply)
I am a nutter magnet.
If i stand still for long enough in a public place "eccentrics" seem to want to talk to me. I guess opposites attract.
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 21:16, Reply)
Anyone with size problems?
Eccentrics, mad or money seekers?

(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 20:14, Reply)
My boyfriend's life ambition
is to become eccentric, does that make him eccentric? If not I shall point him in the direction of this QOTW for lessons.

Although probably if you attempt to become eccentric that makes you uneccentric.

I just wish I had enough money to be eccentric!
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 18:48, 1 reply)
Eccentric? Me?
I suffer from pathopathology. It's the pathological condition of having a pathological condition.

It is similar in nature to the sociological trait ismism.
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 18:43, Reply)
My dad's old man was a socially inept spacktard. I detested the twitchy-'tached twat when he was alive and am relieved that he's dead.
He spoke his own "language" - Gobbledygook - regarding anyone who failed to understand him as an utter fuckwit.

"AAA-A-A-A-AH..... PPPPINT??? YES-NO? FAMILY-GORGEOUS!” (Simultaneously flicking his wrist and violently twitching his nose, ergo his filthy salt 'n' pepper moustache.)

He was forever making an arse of himself, especially at family meals. He would always be first at the table, eager to load in whatever food was in his vicinity. I could see my dear Granny's systolic blood pressure elevating rapidly as she placed an overflowing serving dish of mashed potato on the dining table.... paint her cardio-vascular system purple.

"THIS MINE?" (At this point he would have switched off his hearing aid.)

And without waiting for a reply, he'd wheek the dish to his place setting and proceed to shovel it in (with the serving spoon) in the manner of a JCB, much to the abject horror and disgust of my Granny. Her OCD (and basic hygiene standards) deemed the mash to be contaminated, so rather than wrestle the potato from his clutches, he'd be allowed to polish it off. The advantage of this was he'd leave the table as soon as he'd demolished the mash, leaving the rest of us to eat in relative peace.

He also regarded himself as a talented artist and violinist, therefore an aficionado on all things artistic or musical. I remember being at London’s 100 Club in the late 70’s. It was lunchtime, and a rather talented chap was playing modern jazz on a grand piano. Unfortunately, it didn’t meet with Twitchy-‘tache’s approval. He swaggered over to the piano, flicking his hips in a manner that would make Michael Flatley envious. The right wrist started to flick. My father and I began to cringe in anticipation.

“THIS??? YACK!!!! Mka-mka. YACK!! ‘O’ LEVEL!!!”

The poor pianist was reduced to a quivering mass of jelly (without vodka). We man-handled Twitch away from the poor guy and attempted to remove him from the establishment.

“PINT! Mka-mka… PINT! P.P.P.P.PINT.T!”

We had to relent and allow him to finish his beer before we could escort him from the premises...

(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 18:37, 5 replies)
The bunny man
In Torquay there is a man that always wears big white bunny ears, come rain or shine, but otherwise appears like quite a sane fellow, completely oblivious to them and the many strange looks he gets!

Still can't decide if he is a loon or just trying to make the world a more exciting place, but still when his imposing shadow appears over your shoulder you do leap on the bus that bit quicker.

Does anyone know him? He's not very inconspicuous!
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 18:21, 2 replies)
About 1 o'clock this morning
I was prowling our, thankfully very quiet, cul-de-sac in a short CK nightie, big pink cardigan and brown hiking boots.

The kitten had gone missing and I couldn't sleep thinking about him (potentially) shivering the night away under some bush.

I was worried that he might have crawled into the rubbish bag at some point before I took it out, so managed to top off the overall look by searching through the bins, making (oh, the shame) kissing noises and hissing "Crash!!".

What must the neighbours think?!
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 18:19, 4 replies)
I shant allow it.
I think part of my brain wants me to be eccentric. There's another part that doesn't let it be so. I find my mind locked in a constant battle with itself.

I've articulated this very sentiment in a previous post, so I'll indulge my often overwhelming laziness and simply paste it in here:

When in meetings. Proper, serious work meetings; I'm petrified of what I may do.

If asked a question I worry I might respond not with a coherent, sensible answer, but instead just mutter "minge" in the voice of Brian from Spaced.

Each time I take a drink of water I shiver at the prospect that I might gather a mouthful in my cheeks, then casually lean my head back and create a human fountain.

Worst of all, I dread that the person next to me will say something stupid and I'll unwittingly cuff them about the ear.

Chances are this isn't uncommon, and that the eccentrics among us are those who've given up the fight and just let their brains get on whatever it is they want to do. I'm sure I'll doubtless give up the fight myself eventually. Perhaps things will be more fun that way.
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 17:33, 8 replies)
Bhougremious Fpoon
Good Afternoon


I have the following issues with my new Arxinon 7380 Pentium VI Drive.

Firstly, the screen thren hassen can meddle notwith black squiggles.

Secondly, the inward-outward flange. It is not receiving, nor is it sending. It is also not sending, or receiving, when in TELE mode.

Thirdly, the COILON lead. Is it suppossed to dock with the male, or the female, SCARTING socket? If male, which end - north or south - goes in the modem? If female, how do you get the cover off?

Fourthly, mice. My Arxinon 7380 Pentium VI came supplied with 8 mice. How many should a man of my standing require?

Fifthly, she star mesoptron voltimater concordance. Nested quantuples - but incompatible vox boost. Deploy, scatter, uninstall, or all four?

Sixthly, the hash prompt reads thus:

HEXANAL: 14641
PHONG: Rouge
OUTPOT: 86789798735189754

Are these readings as it should be?

Seventhly, and most annoyingly, the CAC-card ejects every time I press "PURGE". Surely it should initiate PURGE process? Most annoying as I have to go into DOS and run PURGE myself.

Eightly, the flungward node (the one attached to the external dome) has cracked - do I need to puchase a replacement, or can I simply glue the casing back together?

Ninthly, the vidplayer. I have downloaded some pornography by accident, and the vidplayer refuses to work, even though I have deleted the pornography (I thought it was a nature documentary on the inhabitants of South Bristol), and sent an apology via e-mail to the manufacturers of both the Arxinon 7380 Pentium IV and the vidplayer. Could you advise what I need to do next, or should I simply hand myself over to the Police?

Tenthly, radiation. Is the Arxinon 7380 Pentium IV adversely affected by the presence of a large source of Gamma radiation? I need advice before installing expensive and heavy lead sheeting.

Yours Sincerely

(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 17:32, 5 replies)
true story.
When I was in primary school, my teacher said to me "there's a thin line between genius and insanity apeloverage, and you've just crossed it."

I replied "from which direction?"
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 17:17, Reply)
more oddness of mine.
I thought of some more weirdness...

I'm in my thirties, but I like Tigger. I don't know why, but he makes me smile. I read the books when I was a kid, but it's not like I obsessively watch every Winnie The Pooh show on TV - I just like him and feel better when I am wearing the socks I have that have him on.

As a child, I had two imaginary friends - little two-foot high dragons called Puff and Snoot (no, I don't know why, either). Puff was green and friendly, but Snoot was red and tended to say nasty things about me. To me and Puff. Again, these were my imaginary friends. I was an odd child.

I have an irrational hatred of flip-flips when not at a beach - not a fear, but a genuine anger. Women in the cork-soled platform variety annoy me the most.

I took up the guitar at the age of 12 in order to be cool and impress girls. I then became so concerned that I wouldn't look cool if I made a mistake whilst playing that I practised at least 6 hours a day after school, never went out and didn't have a social life at all until I was 18 and left for University. I was, however, very good on the guitar. I now rarely pick it up because I have a life and don't want to lose it to hours of practice again.

I remember the PC vs Mac wars, the Amiga vs ST wars and the Nintendo vs Sega wars. I took active part in all of them - evangelising my preferred side to all and sundry. Bear in mind that I didn't own an ST or an Amiga, but I had two friends who had one of each respectively. I spent two years basically telling each of them that their computer was better than the others, listing the reasons, providing documentary evidence, etc. I had a PC and then a Macintosh, so it didn't bother me at all. Only later on did I realise the fact they had fallen out was because I'd turned a mild bit of banter into an all-out war waged with documentation, factual evidence and chilling logic in my attempts to be supportive of my friends.

I collected badges. Hundreds of them. I don't know why, but whenever I saw one going spare, I'd pick it up/buy it/ask for it. I never wore them, looked at them or thought about collecting for future value, etc. I forgot all about them for years until my mother informed me she still had the collection in the loft and did I want the two large boxes of them? I said no, she could bin the lot...

I have to put salt on before the vinegar on chips, otherwise I can't eat them.

I'm definitely bloody odd.
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 17:00, 4 replies)
Eccentric? You decide
As a child, I would amputate my Action Man's limbs and construct prosthetic ones to replace them. While other Action Men rappelled from helicopters, mine underwent physiotherapy and counselling.

While most young boys find it amusing to wear their sister's underwear occasionally, I wore my sister's all the time to school. When one day I shat my pants and had to go to the nurse, she was more shocked by the My Little Pony briefs than by the vast turdulous slug therein.

Euthanasia is pretty much frowned upon, but I helped my grandad to die by reversing over him in a tractor. He hadn't specifically asked me to, but it was implicit in the way he jigged about manically, and due to my young age I could not be prosecuted.

School mostly passed me by. All those lessons just blended into each other, so I'd sing to myself in an otherwordly high-pitched screech and pretend that aliens were communicating with me by radio waves. Despite being expelled and put into an institution for the mentally ill, I kept it up just to fool my parents - who had put me up for adoption.

I empathise with the homeless, which is why I set fire to my flat, got fired and became homeless myself. When I told the other homeless people about it, they were downright abusive and stole my cider, the pikey bastards. Just to spite them, I invented a new piece of software and became grossly rich, choosing to live in a drained swimming pool in Sussex with nothing but a tarpaulin and a diet of digestives to keep me alive.

I could have quite happily remained a virgin, but I chose to pay for sex with a succession of middle-aged prostitutes who were neither attractive nor proficient. I did it just to spite myself.

Teenage parties were always an opportunity to drink yourself unconscious and have sex. But I printed Christian tracts and attended the parties dressed as a 19th century Baptist preacher, handing out the tracts and speaking in tongues. When beaten almost into a coma, I recited the Old Testament.

Taking pot shots at people from a centrally located city rooftop is considered illegal in most civilised countries, but I couldn't resist when I found a WWII rifle in my dead granddad's shed. I got three nuns and a juggler before they dragged me screaming from the place.
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 16:27, 5 replies)
Ice breaker
in the first year of college; the tutor hands out little whiteboards and aks us to write one word that best describes us. We go around the room, show our conceited self-reviews, get to one lad who shows his board - 'Bone Idle', which gets a few laughs. "Ah" the tutor says, "I asked for one word". Fella looks down at his board for a few seconds and wipes one word off. With a big grin he shows us the edit - 'Bone' then starts laughing hysterically. Total froot loop.
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 16:20, 2 replies)
At work, occasionally, I like to retire to the lav for a little powernap. I've perfected the position, lid down, lean to the right, head on the toilet roll dispenser. I can nod off for a few minutes and feel refreshed.

In fact I did this last week. I prefer 'trap 3' at the end, as its harder for your feet to slip under the sides of the booth thus indicating something amiss.

I woke up suddenly as you do, shit! How long have I been asleep? Feels like it could be 2 mins or 2 hours. Check my phone.. about 15 mins.. not bad... and I do feel refreshed (btw powernaps really do work!). I get up, I can sense there are others waiting for a spare trap, I crunch up some bog roll, and fake the sounds of wiping and zipping up.. flush the bog.. dont want people listening to think I've been up to anything other than a nice long shit. Open the door and nod awkwardly to the next guy who now knows exactly who was warming the seat, no one ever really wants to know.

I wash my hands, glancing in the mirror as he enters the trap. The door closes and suddenly re-opens - "you dirty fucker!" he shouts at me. I stare horrified at the carnage. The occupant previous to me has obviously shit very carefully round about 40% of the toilet seat, and closed the lid on it. I'd been sitting on it for the last 15 mins. Of course, having elaborately faked the audible parts of my dump rather convincingly, he knows that I'm the one who did this.

Theres no real recourse for it. I didnt say anything and just walked out. He doesnt work in my company, we have shared facilities. He works for the call centre over the other side and occasionally I bump into him in the corridor.

I console myself thinking that he probably thinks I am eccentric.
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 16:18, 2 replies)
Encouraging words
You'd think that a psychology teacher would have at least a vague idea about the effect of words on a young person's mind.

Not sure, therefore, what my head of sixth form was going for with the following:

"You know Concrete, I suspect you'll be a bit of an eccentric when you're older."

Ok, probably true.

"But not now."


"Now you're just weird."


And so I went off to do a Physics degree to prove her wrong.
(, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 15:36, 2 replies)

This question is now closed.

Pages: Latest, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, ... 1