Let's see...
Being from a big family, we have a couple of relatives that may fit the description.
Lets start with my Uncle.

Any of you bold enough to remember Peter Kay's description of "Uncle Nobhead" would have a good idea of the man.

Now in his 50's, he still finds it acceptable to wear denim shorts that would put hot pants to shame. All year round. He boasts gleefully about how he is fluent in French ("But with a Normandy accent"). Also, a number of times he has brought complete strangers to our house and said heartily things like "Oh, this is Brian, he's excellent at piano" while we stood staring in disbelief at this man who wouldn't appear out of place on the shortlist for the sex offender of the year award, wanting to come in and probably steal some underwear.

My nan.
She is a lovely woman, having taken care of me for years after school while my parents were at work. I was a little bastard and she still thinks the sun shines out (Visible even more after my underwear had been pillaged). Firstly, she insists she doesn't drink. If thats true, she must be donating all those bottles of gin we bring back from holiday to the cats home. Also, she has a very short temper for store clerks. Last christmas, while shopping for my dad a present with my mum, she was waiting for a cashier to fold a shirt up and bag it. But no, this wasn't satisfactory, something was amiss.
"You're doing it wrong! Give it 'ere!" She cried, before snatching it from the womans hands and proceeding to fold the shirt properly as defined by the constitution of old people Sect. 3 Sub Sect. 6.

Finally, an auntie of mine.

Sadly passed not too long ago, she was an intriguing woman to say the least. There is one notable experience I should like to submit for your amusements. Once, my dad phoned her house to get in touch with my uncle, who was out. So, my dad being a king of jokers, decided to extract the urine somewhat. He proceeded to tell her she was breaking up and he couldn't here her. She replied with an "Oh no, what do I do?!". My dad, being the helpful sort, told her exactly what to do. He had her climbing on sofas and tables trying to get a better reception to find a better signal to see what my dad wanted. Not a wholly ridiculous notion if you're using a mobile. She was using a landline. Not only that, but it was a corded phone. Not wireless in the slightest. She probably had to untangle the wire while doing it.
Oh yeah, and before I forget, she was also on the radio once as part of "Simon Logans Breakfast show" (For all you fellow northern monkeys) wind ups. She thought the council was ringing to complain about her precious dog, and was heard to remark about "Doggie Do-dos!" many a time. I think I may even have that recorded somewhere. If people like the post enough, i'll see if I can upload it.

Appologies for length, I think it's about 2 generations.
(Lordfudgington is hiding the expense report filed on, Fri 31 Oct 2008, 14:09, Reply)