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!
(GONEism, 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!
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, 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.
(GONEism, 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.
(Smale is stuffed, 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.
(GONEism, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 10:10, Reply)

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
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, 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.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, 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.
(Kathleen, 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.
(Kathleen, 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.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 6:43, 2 replies)

in that case
FIRST, hhaaaahhaaaa
in yer face
(knackerz is skinning up, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 6:42, 2 replies)

I'm slightly eccentric:
I always want to get the last word in.
(The Incredible Sulk Finally remembered his password on, Thu 6 Nov 2008, 4:31, 3 replies)

apprently theres a test
www.smbc-comics.com/index.php?db=comics&id=597#comic
( willenium Fist bump for verification, 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.
( vix0r was not Matthew on, 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...
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, 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.
(satellite blows, 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.
(LiL_Arsewipe licked your face on, 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.
(Stu Moo winner of five nobble piece prizes, 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.)
(Big D, 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?
(Jimmyinnz was sprung at work on b3ta on, 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.
( mazurka wants two's up on your mum., Wed 5 Nov 2008, 21:16, Reply)

Anyone with size problems?
Eccentrics, mad or money seekers?

www.penisreductionpills.com/
(Aberracion Life's getting very complicated, but a lot of fun., 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!
(deadly_sinners, 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.
(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 18:43, Reply)

"Yes-no-yack?"
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...

"YACK. KNACKER-JOB?"
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, 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!
(miss_stinkbug:) is moving on Friday, 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?!
(Penguins_Made_Me_Do_It is a dolt ... and she don't care, 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.
( Moey, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 17:33, 8 replies)

Bhougremious Fpoon
Good Afternoon

My Name Is BHOUGREMIOUS FPOON.

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
TWIN PEDAL: Active
GHOUL: Ugh
RETRONICS: Silver
OFF-NODE: On
ON-NODE: Off
OT-NOTE: Om
CUNNATE: Fined
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

BHOUGREMIOUS FPOON.
Koln
Deutschland
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, 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?"
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Wed 5 Nov 2008, 17:17, Reply)