Bizarre habits
Sandettie Light Vessel Automatic tells us: "Until I pointed it out, my other half use to hang out the washing making sure that both pegs were the same colour. Now she goes out of her way to make sure they never match." Tell us about bizarre rituals, habits and OCD-like behaviour.
( , Thu 1 Jul 2010, 12:33)
Sandettie Light Vessel Automatic tells us: "Until I pointed it out, my other half use to hang out the washing making sure that both pegs were the same colour. Now she goes out of her way to make sure they never match." Tell us about bizarre rituals, habits and OCD-like behaviour.
( , Thu 1 Jul 2010, 12:33)
This question is now closed.
I always have to sit on the right hand side of any bus I travel on, as I once had a dream where I was in a bus crash and all the people on the left hand side died or were badly injured. For some reason all other modes of public transport (even coaches) pose no problem at all.
I also have to make sure the front and back doors are locked even though they haven't been used. I've even got up at 3am to make sure they and the garage door are shut. Otherwise I just lie in bed wondering if they are open or unlocked.
Nothing outrageous really...
Oh and occasionally I like to talk through a furry hand puppet before I make love.
( , Wed 7 Jul 2010, 4:25, 2 replies)
Sunrise to sunset...
I always know the exact sunrise and sunset times to the second for where I am at any particular time.
I've got charts printed out and spreadsheets ready on my computer so that I'm always one step ahead of that sun thing. He thinks he's so big with his hydrogen and fusion and stuff.
Sunrise tomorrow at 5:01:24 BST. Sunset at 21:34:16 BST. 1 minute 36 seconds less sunlight than yesterday; sunrise 57 seconds and sunset 39 seconds later than yesterday.
( , Wed 7 Jul 2010, 2:56, 5 replies)
I always know the exact sunrise and sunset times to the second for where I am at any particular time.
I've got charts printed out and spreadsheets ready on my computer so that I'm always one step ahead of that sun thing. He thinks he's so big with his hydrogen and fusion and stuff.
Sunrise tomorrow at 5:01:24 BST. Sunset at 21:34:16 BST. 1 minute 36 seconds less sunlight than yesterday; sunrise 57 seconds and sunset 39 seconds later than yesterday.
( , Wed 7 Jul 2010, 2:56, 5 replies)
Thinking fingers
I work in Tech Support and so use a keyboard all day everyday and have developed a few little habits;
1) Pinkies, i can touch type but never use my little fingers. They are always stuck up in the air like im posh and drinking tea. People laugh at me when this is pointed out.
2) When thinking at my desk i often wiggle my fingers. Aparenly i also do this when thinking in general. And yes, i get laughed at then too.
( , Wed 7 Jul 2010, 2:10, Reply)
I work in Tech Support and so use a keyboard all day everyday and have developed a few little habits;
1) Pinkies, i can touch type but never use my little fingers. They are always stuck up in the air like im posh and drinking tea. People laugh at me when this is pointed out.
2) When thinking at my desk i often wiggle my fingers. Aparenly i also do this when thinking in general. And yes, i get laughed at then too.
( , Wed 7 Jul 2010, 2:10, Reply)
Not really tin-foil hat stuff, but
I have little mantras that I repeat to myself when I do certain tasks. For instance, when I am carrying the cat bowl full of water, or a full cup of tea, I routinely repeat "don't drop it, don't drop it, don't drop it" in my head.
When I am driving up to the pumps at the petrol station I have to say "driver's side, driver's side, driver's side" to remind me which side of my car the petrol cap is on (but I suspect I do this more to avoid looking like a twat if I park on the wrong side).
When dining out at that fine eating establishment, MacDonald's, I always, ALWAYS, dunk my fries into my chocolate milkshake.
At bedtime, my OH always gets a back rub because I like finding any spots and squeezing them.
And I won't smile after I've eaten until I have checked that there is nothing sticking in between my teeth.
( , Wed 7 Jul 2010, 1:53, 5 replies)
I have little mantras that I repeat to myself when I do certain tasks. For instance, when I am carrying the cat bowl full of water, or a full cup of tea, I routinely repeat "don't drop it, don't drop it, don't drop it" in my head.
When I am driving up to the pumps at the petrol station I have to say "driver's side, driver's side, driver's side" to remind me which side of my car the petrol cap is on (but I suspect I do this more to avoid looking like a twat if I park on the wrong side).
When dining out at that fine eating establishment, MacDonald's, I always, ALWAYS, dunk my fries into my chocolate milkshake.
At bedtime, my OH always gets a back rub because I like finding any spots and squeezing them.
And I won't smile after I've eaten until I have checked that there is nothing sticking in between my teeth.
( , Wed 7 Jul 2010, 1:53, 5 replies)
Pavlovian asides
I have the terrible habit of saying certain phrases aloud in certain situations. They are from old old cartoons and TV in the '60's and no one ever gets the reference. They just think I am a dotty old lady muttering to myself.
My favorites are:
On misunderstanding what someone said-"Moo, Moomoo moo, mooomoomoo, Moo!" "They WHUUT?!?"
During the occasion of a lapse in a student's or child's attention- "Pay attent- Ah say, pay attention, boy!" In a heavy mint julep accent.
On getting ready to leave-"Alright Clancy, take the bhoys and surrrround the house." (in a really bad Irish cop accent)
Upon acertaining someone's motives- "Sure you are, rabbit, sure you are."
In the case of being thwarted- "and your little dog, too!" OR "Want some fire, Scarecrow?"
If someone is starting to perform the exact wrong action- "Ack! Not the wed one,never push the WED one!"
When I can't figure out instructions- "We are gremlins, from the Kremlin," to the tune of Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody.
On becoming frustrated with an idiot family member- "Oongambu bahguyea, oongambu bahguyea." in a chant.
In the aftermath of a major screwup on my part-"Fortunately, Ah keep mah featheahs numbahed fo' just such an uhmergency." also in a heavy mint julep accent.
Upon being satisfied- "I'm a happy miser." in a little helium voice.
You can pretty much gauge my mood and mental status by what cartoon I am quoting that day. All four of my brothers do this too, to various extents. I also can't watch anyone leaving until they are out of sight for fear they won't return.
( , Wed 7 Jul 2010, 1:47, 2 replies)
I have the terrible habit of saying certain phrases aloud in certain situations. They are from old old cartoons and TV in the '60's and no one ever gets the reference. They just think I am a dotty old lady muttering to myself.
My favorites are:
On misunderstanding what someone said-"Moo, Moomoo moo, mooomoomoo, Moo!" "They WHUUT?!?"
During the occasion of a lapse in a student's or child's attention- "Pay attent- Ah say, pay attention, boy!" In a heavy mint julep accent.
On getting ready to leave-"Alright Clancy, take the bhoys and surrrround the house." (in a really bad Irish cop accent)
Upon acertaining someone's motives- "Sure you are, rabbit, sure you are."
In the case of being thwarted- "and your little dog, too!" OR "Want some fire, Scarecrow?"
If someone is starting to perform the exact wrong action- "Ack! Not the wed one,never push the WED one!"
When I can't figure out instructions- "We are gremlins, from the Kremlin," to the tune of Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody.
On becoming frustrated with an idiot family member- "Oongambu bahguyea, oongambu bahguyea." in a chant.
In the aftermath of a major screwup on my part-"Fortunately, Ah keep mah featheahs numbahed fo' just such an uhmergency." also in a heavy mint julep accent.
Upon being satisfied- "I'm a happy miser." in a little helium voice.
You can pretty much gauge my mood and mental status by what cartoon I am quoting that day. All four of my brothers do this too, to various extents. I also can't watch anyone leaving until they are out of sight for fear they won't return.
( , Wed 7 Jul 2010, 1:47, 2 replies)
i can't be the only one
after watching a certain episode of the simpsons, i cannot listen to sweet dreams by eurythmics without singing "i travel the world and the seven seas, i am watching you through a camera"
damn you, artie ziff!
( , Wed 7 Jul 2010, 0:29, 10 replies)
after watching a certain episode of the simpsons, i cannot listen to sweet dreams by eurythmics without singing "i travel the world and the seven seas, i am watching you through a camera"
damn you, artie ziff!
( , Wed 7 Jul 2010, 0:29, 10 replies)
Arnie of the Terminators
My greatest game of Civ ever lasted a whole 27 hours after I conquered the world, and Arnie, that great god of the Mongols, proceeded to seed the entire world with as many cities as possible. I kept one last enemy city, which I pointedly refused to wipe out (though I did rather cruelly build a city in each of the ajoining 8 squares just so they wouldn't get uppity).
Eventually when it was decided enough was enough, and there really wasn't any other terrain worth a cat pissing on, the game was duly ended, and my Amiga had a thousand fits trying to calculate the score..... and crashed. Reboot, reload, end game, crash. Reboot, reload, end game, crash. Reboot, reload, end game, crash. and so on.
It took until about the 15th attempt until it finally managed without burning out (the evil little bastard realised it was out-classed by a master OCD obsessive you see and gave up).
Best score ever, and despite well over half of the game basically being played without any enemy on the map at all, I still despise any such game as Sim City as without an opposition there is no point.
I wish I had this much time to waste now.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 23:46, 3 replies)
My greatest game of Civ ever lasted a whole 27 hours after I conquered the world, and Arnie, that great god of the Mongols, proceeded to seed the entire world with as many cities as possible. I kept one last enemy city, which I pointedly refused to wipe out (though I did rather cruelly build a city in each of the ajoining 8 squares just so they wouldn't get uppity).
Eventually when it was decided enough was enough, and there really wasn't any other terrain worth a cat pissing on, the game was duly ended, and my Amiga had a thousand fits trying to calculate the score..... and crashed. Reboot, reload, end game, crash. Reboot, reload, end game, crash. Reboot, reload, end game, crash. and so on.
It took until about the 15th attempt until it finally managed without burning out (the evil little bastard realised it was out-classed by a master OCD obsessive you see and gave up).
Best score ever, and despite well over half of the game basically being played without any enemy on the map at all, I still despise any such game as Sim City as without an opposition there is no point.
I wish I had this much time to waste now.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 23:46, 3 replies)
When I was younger...
...I used to go into the farmer's field, strip naked and masturbate in front of the sheep. We've all done that though, haven't we?
Bonus points if you can name the film I'm quoting (very badly) from there...
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 23:44, 11 replies)
...I used to go into the farmer's field, strip naked and masturbate in front of the sheep. We've all done that though, haven't we?
Bonus points if you can name the film I'm quoting (very badly) from there...
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 23:44, 11 replies)
thirty-two
The first thing every morning, before I get out of bed even, I do thirty-two situps. On a few occasions I miss it and then I can't feel at ease until I have got down on the floor and done those thirty-two situps.
Then I go in the kitchen and put some coffee beans into this electric grinder I've got, whereupon I hold down the power button for thirty-two seconds. (That's eight bars of 4/4.)
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 23:33, 1 reply)
The first thing every morning, before I get out of bed even, I do thirty-two situps. On a few occasions I miss it and then I can't feel at ease until I have got down on the floor and done those thirty-two situps.
Then I go in the kitchen and put some coffee beans into this electric grinder I've got, whereupon I hold down the power button for thirty-two seconds. (That's eight bars of 4/4.)
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 23:33, 1 reply)
Rather than toast 2 slices, I toast one slice of bread
and then attach an untoasted slice to the bottom. I am not sure why.
I also only open any cans of fizzy pop just enough so the gas escapes, then i slurp and suck on the ring pull like a mental nipple until. Again i am not sure why i do this.
Other food related oddities, although not strictly on topic, is that i cannot bear the idea of anyone bitting on an ice lolly. The very idea brings bile to my throat. It is something to do with the way it crunches. The same issue means that if it snows a certain type of snow, the dry fluffy kind, i am trapped in the house as i cant bear to walk on it.
I am sure i have many others, as this is just what came to mind on the subject of food and drink
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 23:30, Reply)
and then attach an untoasted slice to the bottom. I am not sure why.
I also only open any cans of fizzy pop just enough so the gas escapes, then i slurp and suck on the ring pull like a mental nipple until. Again i am not sure why i do this.
Other food related oddities, although not strictly on topic, is that i cannot bear the idea of anyone bitting on an ice lolly. The very idea brings bile to my throat. It is something to do with the way it crunches. The same issue means that if it snows a certain type of snow, the dry fluffy kind, i am trapped in the house as i cant bear to walk on it.
I am sure i have many others, as this is just what came to mind on the subject of food and drink
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 23:30, Reply)
The ritual involving washing your hands
I'm the first to admit I'm a bit OCD about washing my hands.
Touch something vaguely nasty, must wash hands.
If I have to use a public computer, I have to wash my hands before handling any food afterwards.
If a bird craps on me or a dog pees up my leg, (happens surprisingly more often than I'm happy with) I'll use a tissue to clean up but then must thoroughly wash my hands before touching anything else.
I cant even roll a cig afterwards until my hands are clean, no matter how much I want one.
Until fairly recently I thought this was perfectly normal, I mean, who wants to pick up food (or something else that goes into your mouth )with dirty hands?
Then I had a party.
Put a freshly laundered and neatly folded towel in the bathroom, Along with a new bar of soap.
People were in and out of the bathroom all night.
The buffet was a success, very little was left.
After everyone had gone and I got ready for bed, I saw the towel and soap hadnt been used at all, towel still neatly folded as I'd left it and the soap still dry on on the tray.
I was disgusted to think folk had used the bathroom all night and had not washed their hands, and had been handling the party food.
A few months later I was talking about this at another event, not really cottoning on that some of my party guests would also be there.
Later on, a friend sloped up and told me that he couldnt stand to use a new bar of soap in someone elses house, or disturb a neatly folded towel.
And that he'd washed his hands with my shampoo and then dried them on the shower curtain rather than mess up my clean soap and towel.
I hope my other guests shared the same bizarre habit, though I doubt it
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 23:23, 6 replies)
I'm the first to admit I'm a bit OCD about washing my hands.
Touch something vaguely nasty, must wash hands.
If I have to use a public computer, I have to wash my hands before handling any food afterwards.
If a bird craps on me or a dog pees up my leg, (happens surprisingly more often than I'm happy with) I'll use a tissue to clean up but then must thoroughly wash my hands before touching anything else.
I cant even roll a cig afterwards until my hands are clean, no matter how much I want one.
Until fairly recently I thought this was perfectly normal, I mean, who wants to pick up food (or something else that goes into your mouth )with dirty hands?
Then I had a party.
Put a freshly laundered and neatly folded towel in the bathroom, Along with a new bar of soap.
People were in and out of the bathroom all night.
The buffet was a success, very little was left.
After everyone had gone and I got ready for bed, I saw the towel and soap hadnt been used at all, towel still neatly folded as I'd left it and the soap still dry on on the tray.
I was disgusted to think folk had used the bathroom all night and had not washed their hands, and had been handling the party food.
A few months later I was talking about this at another event, not really cottoning on that some of my party guests would also be there.
Later on, a friend sloped up and told me that he couldnt stand to use a new bar of soap in someone elses house, or disturb a neatly folded towel.
And that he'd washed his hands with my shampoo and then dried them on the shower curtain rather than mess up my clean soap and towel.
I hope my other guests shared the same bizarre habit, though I doubt it
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 23:23, 6 replies)
Music of doom
I have a few superstitious habits, only the usual stuff with ladders and magpies and guff like that, but I have one bad luck ritual that really pisses me off, I just can't shake it off.
I love music, all kinds but mostly various types of metal. I find now and again I'll hear a new tune, or pick up a CD by a band I've not heard before and LOVE it. Play it all the time, on my MP3 player, in the car, on the stereo. Then, usually within 48 hours of first hearing it, something crappy will happen (could be fairly minor, but always beyond my control). At this point I know that any time I hear that tune/band I will always have a bit of bad luck.
I know this is a load of tosh, but nonetheless I can't take the chance that today I listen to Joe Satriani and end up getting sideswiped while I'm driving to work, or tomorrow I listen to one specific Slayer album and then pick up my P45 (and these are the least I imagine, often something worse could be in the pipeline).
It annoys the bejesus out of me cos I love some of these tunes, and I know it's irrational but I CAN'T TAKE THE CHANCE IT MIGHT ALL BE TRUE.
On another note it's nice to see that just about everyone has some weird ritual, maybe that's what normality is. Thanks for listening
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 23:20, 1 reply)
I have a few superstitious habits, only the usual stuff with ladders and magpies and guff like that, but I have one bad luck ritual that really pisses me off, I just can't shake it off.
I love music, all kinds but mostly various types of metal. I find now and again I'll hear a new tune, or pick up a CD by a band I've not heard before and LOVE it. Play it all the time, on my MP3 player, in the car, on the stereo. Then, usually within 48 hours of first hearing it, something crappy will happen (could be fairly minor, but always beyond my control). At this point I know that any time I hear that tune/band I will always have a bit of bad luck.
I know this is a load of tosh, but nonetheless I can't take the chance that today I listen to Joe Satriani and end up getting sideswiped while I'm driving to work, or tomorrow I listen to one specific Slayer album and then pick up my P45 (and these are the least I imagine, often something worse could be in the pipeline).
It annoys the bejesus out of me cos I love some of these tunes, and I know it's irrational but I CAN'T TAKE THE CHANCE IT MIGHT ALL BE TRUE.
On another note it's nice to see that just about everyone has some weird ritual, maybe that's what normality is. Thanks for listening
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 23:20, 1 reply)
Symmetry in numbers
I like to see symmetry in numbers, especially on the mileometer of my the car. I love it when it passes to a number that is somehow symmetrical, like 059620 or 088880. I also like to watch it turn to full 1000s, or 10000s. On my last car I made it to 100000 and 200000, strangely enough both on nearly the same point on the way to work.
Sad isn't it?
Oh, and I like to sing for my cat. In a high pitched voice, as much off key as possible, the silliest text imaginable. She seems to enjoy it, so I do it quite often. Even earned some very strange looks from the neighbours for that.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 22:48, 1 reply)
I like to see symmetry in numbers, especially on the mileometer of my the car. I love it when it passes to a number that is somehow symmetrical, like 059620 or 088880. I also like to watch it turn to full 1000s, or 10000s. On my last car I made it to 100000 and 200000, strangely enough both on nearly the same point on the way to work.
Sad isn't it?
Oh, and I like to sing for my cat. In a high pitched voice, as much off key as possible, the silliest text imaginable. She seems to enjoy it, so I do it quite often. Even earned some very strange looks from the neighbours for that.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 22:48, 1 reply)
Train hooks
I've always been a messy little badfox, but one thing I always do is on trains. The swivelly hooks that hold up the trays on the back of the seats in front have to be straight and in line with each other or I get really agitated.
Oh, and if I know I'm going on a long journey, I will go for a wee. Then another and another. Until I'm standing over the toilet and nothing's coming out. Halfway through the journey, I always need a wee regardless.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 22:38, Reply)
I've always been a messy little badfox, but one thing I always do is on trains. The swivelly hooks that hold up the trays on the back of the seats in front have to be straight and in line with each other or I get really agitated.
Oh, and if I know I'm going on a long journey, I will go for a wee. Then another and another. Until I'm standing over the toilet and nothing's coming out. Halfway through the journey, I always need a wee regardless.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 22:38, Reply)
Sugar
I have a thing about sugar.
There MUST always be a spoon in it, tea should be made with a new teaspoon, the sugar is then added with the sugar spoon which is then put back in the sugar. At no point should a wet spoon be put in the sugar or it fills me with rage!
The people I live with take delight in removing the spoon or replacing it with a fork etc
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 22:37, Reply)
I have a thing about sugar.
There MUST always be a spoon in it, tea should be made with a new teaspoon, the sugar is then added with the sugar spoon which is then put back in the sugar. At no point should a wet spoon be put in the sugar or it fills me with rage!
The people I live with take delight in removing the spoon or replacing it with a fork etc
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 22:37, Reply)
At School
I became obsessed with taking down the cricket captain's middle stump. But no matter how hard I strained I always choked at the crease.
Of course, he thrashed me to within an inch of my life.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 22:25, Reply)
I became obsessed with taking down the cricket captain's middle stump. But no matter how hard I strained I always choked at the crease.
Of course, he thrashed me to within an inch of my life.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 22:25, Reply)
Annoying Ex habits
I'm surprised that there hasn't been more replies in this vane but here goes.
I had a longish-term relationship at University back when I was naive enough to confuse being in love with wanting to be in love and not experienced enough to know better. And also mistaking a dry sense of humour for no sense of humour whatsoever.
I shall for simplicity refer to him as Vampy-boy (VB)'cause that is what he wanted to be.
He had some weird, not to mention annoying habits. These include:
Trying to eat gravy with a knife and fork. Not a spoon or a piece of bread like ordinary people. I can still hear the scrapescrapescapescape even now...
Picking his nose with tissues. That way he could rationalise it wasn't PROPER nose picking. Not too bad (I pick my nose too but only in private/when no-one's looking) but he did it EVERYWHERE, especially lectures. I had to tell him that no-one thinks he's the cool gothy guy but 'the guy who is always picking his nose with them minging tissues'
Always did cooking/anything kitcheny with his sleeves rolled down. Although I think that might be a guy thing.
Taking forever in the shower. I'm a girl with bum-length hair but can still shampoo/condition my hair and be out in 15 minutes. He'd take at least 30 mins. I used to ask him if he was shampooing every single leg hair one by one.
The toilet. Ohhh that was a bad one. He used to go 4-6 times a day but this was coupled with a very prim attitude to this which was an unfortunate combination (not to mention a bogroll black-hole). We (housemates and I)used to call the toilet VB's throne. He also had a condition whereby if we were ever in a hurry to get anywhere he would always have to take a dump. We called this 'the 9 O'clock Poos with your host, VB'.
Would as a matter of principle not listen to me. And then wonder why I nagged him to remember this/get that/don't forget the other important stuff etc.
Always try and walk at least a step ahead of me when walking together. I used to call this the 'Default of doom' and if he got too far in front I would put my arm out. This combined with the previous habit meant that often he would go straight past turnings I had gone down.
OK so apart from being a glutton for punishment some habits he did also have did include NOT wanting to live in a dump unlike most of my Uni friends at the time...
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 21:55, 6 replies)
I'm surprised that there hasn't been more replies in this vane but here goes.
I had a longish-term relationship at University back when I was naive enough to confuse being in love with wanting to be in love and not experienced enough to know better. And also mistaking a dry sense of humour for no sense of humour whatsoever.
I shall for simplicity refer to him as Vampy-boy (VB)'cause that is what he wanted to be.
He had some weird, not to mention annoying habits. These include:
Trying to eat gravy with a knife and fork. Not a spoon or a piece of bread like ordinary people. I can still hear the scrapescrapescapescape even now...
Picking his nose with tissues. That way he could rationalise it wasn't PROPER nose picking. Not too bad (I pick my nose too but only in private/when no-one's looking) but he did it EVERYWHERE, especially lectures. I had to tell him that no-one thinks he's the cool gothy guy but 'the guy who is always picking his nose with them minging tissues'
Always did cooking/anything kitcheny with his sleeves rolled down. Although I think that might be a guy thing.
Taking forever in the shower. I'm a girl with bum-length hair but can still shampoo/condition my hair and be out in 15 minutes. He'd take at least 30 mins. I used to ask him if he was shampooing every single leg hair one by one.
The toilet. Ohhh that was a bad one. He used to go 4-6 times a day but this was coupled with a very prim attitude to this which was an unfortunate combination (not to mention a bogroll black-hole). We (housemates and I)used to call the toilet VB's throne. He also had a condition whereby if we were ever in a hurry to get anywhere he would always have to take a dump. We called this 'the 9 O'clock Poos with your host, VB'.
Would as a matter of principle not listen to me. And then wonder why I nagged him to remember this/get that/don't forget the other important stuff etc.
Always try and walk at least a step ahead of me when walking together. I used to call this the 'Default of doom' and if he got too far in front I would put my arm out. This combined with the previous habit meant that often he would go straight past turnings I had gone down.
OK so apart from being a glutton for punishment some habits he did also have did include NOT wanting to live in a dump unlike most of my Uni friends at the time...
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 21:55, 6 replies)
It's a rubbish one but I'll share it anyway
For over 20 years if I have seen a digital clock displaying the seconds ticking over and it's close to coming round to 05 seconds I have to watch it do that. This happens a lot in stations. It causes me a little bit of distress if I miss it because the clock is behind a pillar at that moment.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 20:25, 1 reply)
For over 20 years if I have seen a digital clock displaying the seconds ticking over and it's close to coming round to 05 seconds I have to watch it do that. This happens a lot in stations. It causes me a little bit of distress if I miss it because the clock is behind a pillar at that moment.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 20:25, 1 reply)
Mass Hypocrisy
I've been reading this thinking about how you lot are all a bunch of fucking weirdos and tittering to myself. Up until now anyway. I have an absolutely morbid fear of breathing really heavily when using my iPod (or any portable musical equipment) and looking like a weirdo. So I combat it by either holding my breath as I walk past people who are reasonably close by on the street, or by coughing in a dramatic manner. I'll be buggered if I know why.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 17:55, 10 replies)
I've been reading this thinking about how you lot are all a bunch of fucking weirdos and tittering to myself. Up until now anyway. I have an absolutely morbid fear of breathing really heavily when using my iPod (or any portable musical equipment) and looking like a weirdo. So I combat it by either holding my breath as I walk past people who are reasonably close by on the street, or by coughing in a dramatic manner. I'll be buggered if I know why.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 17:55, 10 replies)
Water
When I was younger I had a deal with the water spirits who lived in the bathroom pipes. Or more accurately, I understood their nature and was both terrified and took advantage of it on a regular basis.
For you see - the water spirits that live in all water want our love - and our souls, you can tell by the way the water holds you and caresses and strokes your body when you are with it - and the gurgling sucking angry sounds it makes when it's forced to leave us down the drains, bitter and aghast at how we've tossed it aside.
As long as you're in water - things are ok, the water likes to be close to you, it likes to share your body and time and attention and it thinks things are happy and, like an innocent young woman believing that the man she adores truly loves her and isn't just using her body - Water more than willingly helps with cleaning up, taking care of whatever is going on, participates in the weirdest of play - and does basically whatever you might desire.
But when you thoughtlessly, causally and uncaringly pull the plug on this relationship, and the water suddenly realizes you were just *using* it all this time, that the love it felt for you was not returned - it's scorned heart turns in a downward spiral and it cries out as it's drawn away against it's will and the hurt from your loveless rejection changes it from warmth and acceptance to despondence and need - and then, heedless of the consequences - the water tries to take you with it.
It pulls at your body, you can feel your self get heavier and heavier as the bathwater tries to pull you down with it - it grabs at your spirit, causing you to shiver as it leaves your body - each evaporating bit taking your life energy with it leaving you cold and lifeless (if it had it's way...)
Water would take your heart out of your chest and swallow it whole... if you let it.
Toilets are the worst of course - the relationship in that situation is so one sided, the poor water just takes and takes everything you dish out - only ever accepting you and being there for you through all your worst moments, whether you're sick or in pain or wretchedly suffering through punishment that's only ever really your own fault... the water is there, it catches all your mess, all your disgust, all your wasted results of poor choices and unthought out decisions... it takes it all and, at most - when you're particularly violent and horrible to it - it might reach up to touch your cheek for just a moments caress in return, offering all the solace it can in your moment of vulnerability.
But do you stay with it? Do you carry it with you? Do you care about it's hopes? it's dreams? it's love? do you, ever *once* ask it how it's day was?
No.
You, with the meerest tug of a finger, the smallest acknowledgment of a goodbye wave - pull a handle and discard it from your life, throw it not just to the ground - but under it, because you don't want to see it, you'd rather it just go away.
Is it any surprise it sounds so upset and angry and sad and desperate as it goes down?
I recognized all of this as a child, and did the only thing I could ... I made sure I was far far away before the toilet was done flushing, or the bath or sink water was done draining - recognizing the mystical protection of the threshold, I crossed as many doorways (closing them if possible) as I could while the water raged behind me. I would count them as I passed through and promise myself anything - wishes for every doorway! - as long as I kept moving, and got as much space and time between me and the angry, waiting, hungry, poor spirits as I could.
Being trapped in the room with a draining bathtub... or a flushing commode... especially one that had TASTED me... filled my small frame with such a sinking dread and terror like nothing else - I knew it was a surefire way to lose my soul, to have to fight for my eternal essence against water spirits ancient and powerful (though thankfully usually smaller than me) - I could *feel* it in every gurgle and moan from the drain.
So I ran (if no one was looking) and went through room after room - from public restrooms (so smart to put doors on the cubicles in there! that's one door for sure!), from home bathrooms (going floors away to use a bathroom on the other side of the house, so I'll have plenty of space afterward to escape into), all from that horrible wailing gurgling lonely noise.
I'm over it now, I've grown up and put my old superstitions away, I made my peace and I don't believe such silly things anymore - heck the other week I even flushed the toilet and then confidently walked directly into the running shower - nakedly putting myself at the mercy of the water in it's place of utmost power - utterly unafraid!
...
I may never need to apologize for length again.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 17:09, 23 replies)
When I was younger I had a deal with the water spirits who lived in the bathroom pipes. Or more accurately, I understood their nature and was both terrified and took advantage of it on a regular basis.
For you see - the water spirits that live in all water want our love - and our souls, you can tell by the way the water holds you and caresses and strokes your body when you are with it - and the gurgling sucking angry sounds it makes when it's forced to leave us down the drains, bitter and aghast at how we've tossed it aside.
As long as you're in water - things are ok, the water likes to be close to you, it likes to share your body and time and attention and it thinks things are happy and, like an innocent young woman believing that the man she adores truly loves her and isn't just using her body - Water more than willingly helps with cleaning up, taking care of whatever is going on, participates in the weirdest of play - and does basically whatever you might desire.
But when you thoughtlessly, causally and uncaringly pull the plug on this relationship, and the water suddenly realizes you were just *using* it all this time, that the love it felt for you was not returned - it's scorned heart turns in a downward spiral and it cries out as it's drawn away against it's will and the hurt from your loveless rejection changes it from warmth and acceptance to despondence and need - and then, heedless of the consequences - the water tries to take you with it.
It pulls at your body, you can feel your self get heavier and heavier as the bathwater tries to pull you down with it - it grabs at your spirit, causing you to shiver as it leaves your body - each evaporating bit taking your life energy with it leaving you cold and lifeless (if it had it's way...)
Water would take your heart out of your chest and swallow it whole... if you let it.
Toilets are the worst of course - the relationship in that situation is so one sided, the poor water just takes and takes everything you dish out - only ever accepting you and being there for you through all your worst moments, whether you're sick or in pain or wretchedly suffering through punishment that's only ever really your own fault... the water is there, it catches all your mess, all your disgust, all your wasted results of poor choices and unthought out decisions... it takes it all and, at most - when you're particularly violent and horrible to it - it might reach up to touch your cheek for just a moments caress in return, offering all the solace it can in your moment of vulnerability.
But do you stay with it? Do you carry it with you? Do you care about it's hopes? it's dreams? it's love? do you, ever *once* ask it how it's day was?
No.
You, with the meerest tug of a finger, the smallest acknowledgment of a goodbye wave - pull a handle and discard it from your life, throw it not just to the ground - but under it, because you don't want to see it, you'd rather it just go away.
Is it any surprise it sounds so upset and angry and sad and desperate as it goes down?
I recognized all of this as a child, and did the only thing I could ... I made sure I was far far away before the toilet was done flushing, or the bath or sink water was done draining - recognizing the mystical protection of the threshold, I crossed as many doorways (closing them if possible) as I could while the water raged behind me. I would count them as I passed through and promise myself anything - wishes for every doorway! - as long as I kept moving, and got as much space and time between me and the angry, waiting, hungry, poor spirits as I could.
Being trapped in the room with a draining bathtub... or a flushing commode... especially one that had TASTED me... filled my small frame with such a sinking dread and terror like nothing else - I knew it was a surefire way to lose my soul, to have to fight for my eternal essence against water spirits ancient and powerful (though thankfully usually smaller than me) - I could *feel* it in every gurgle and moan from the drain.
So I ran (if no one was looking) and went through room after room - from public restrooms (so smart to put doors on the cubicles in there! that's one door for sure!), from home bathrooms (going floors away to use a bathroom on the other side of the house, so I'll have plenty of space afterward to escape into), all from that horrible wailing gurgling lonely noise.
I'm over it now, I've grown up and put my old superstitions away, I made my peace and I don't believe such silly things anymore - heck the other week I even flushed the toilet and then confidently walked directly into the running shower - nakedly putting myself at the mercy of the water in it's place of utmost power - utterly unafraid!
...
I may never need to apologize for length again.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 17:09, 23 replies)
Time
On the 7th of August, 1990, I stayed at home to watch the clock time tick over to 12:34:56 7/8/90.
I figured that I wouldn't be here to see it the next time that happened, and so I didn't go out with my friends that day.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 16:50, 6 replies)
On the 7th of August, 1990, I stayed at home to watch the clock time tick over to 12:34:56 7/8/90.
I figured that I wouldn't be here to see it the next time that happened, and so I didn't go out with my friends that day.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 16:50, 6 replies)
Not me, my dad
When my dad felt the turtle's head, he just had to go - not for him the "I can't go unless I'm in my own house" stuff. This is fair enough for an office jockey like me (I've inherited the same habit), but for most of his working life he was a field sales rep. He'd have to take a dump wherever he was, whenever he needed to, but not so often that he'd remember to keep bogroll/tissue in his pockets.
His brother once told me that, while he still lived with his parents after leaving the Army in the early 60s, everyone knew when he'd been caught short while he was out because he'd come home wearing only one sock.
Work it out.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 16:22, 5 replies)
When my dad felt the turtle's head, he just had to go - not for him the "I can't go unless I'm in my own house" stuff. This is fair enough for an office jockey like me (I've inherited the same habit), but for most of his working life he was a field sales rep. He'd have to take a dump wherever he was, whenever he needed to, but not so often that he'd remember to keep bogroll/tissue in his pockets.
His brother once told me that, while he still lived with his parents after leaving the Army in the early 60s, everyone knew when he'd been caught short while he was out because he'd come home wearing only one sock.
Work it out.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 16:22, 5 replies)
Have spanner, will travel.
I'm an engineer, my dad was an engineer, his dad was an enginner and so on. Run it back all the way, we're engineers of various types. From the chap many generations back whose hobby ws drawing beautifully detailed pictures of various steam engine gear linkages down to me and my delight in building intricate little solar powered devices from cast off electronics.
Unfortunately all this selective breeding has left us with one very solid quirk. Every male on one side of the family becomes uncomfortable in the presence of broken or badly adjusted mechanisms. It seems to be the same kind of feeling that some people describe when seeing a picture hung askew or a disordered bookshelf and occasionally it gets strong enough to require us to do something about it.
From the Washing Machine Incident*, to the day I had to spend sitting on my hands when visiting a girlfrind's parents. On the wall they had an old wooden clock, a stopped clock, a clock which GF's father had inherited from his father and was just sat there not working, a clock which I could almost feel ticking like some kind of mechanical phantom limb pain. Eventually GF's mother took pity on my twitching and handed me the clock with a look to her husband that clearly said "well he can't make it any worse, can he..."
For the next hour I was happy as a pig in cheltenham. Disassembling, cleaning, straightening, rebuilding and balancing to my little ticky heart's content. Finally finished, hung the clock on the wall and was rewarded with a good solid regular tick that even now I remember with a certain degree of pride. Even better was the slightly odd look that GF's father gave me when the clock ran, and stayed running. He'd been told that it was a hopless ireparable case and would never work again.
Some children are born with a silver spoon in their mouths, mine I expect will have a screwdriver in one hand and a spanner in the other.
*In which my dad and I were visiting my uncle. A brief mention by my aunt that the washing machine was making a funny noise and the three of us had the thing disassembled on the kitchen floor within 15 minutes.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 16:18, 10 replies)
I'm an engineer, my dad was an engineer, his dad was an enginner and so on. Run it back all the way, we're engineers of various types. From the chap many generations back whose hobby ws drawing beautifully detailed pictures of various steam engine gear linkages down to me and my delight in building intricate little solar powered devices from cast off electronics.
Unfortunately all this selective breeding has left us with one very solid quirk. Every male on one side of the family becomes uncomfortable in the presence of broken or badly adjusted mechanisms. It seems to be the same kind of feeling that some people describe when seeing a picture hung askew or a disordered bookshelf and occasionally it gets strong enough to require us to do something about it.
From the Washing Machine Incident*, to the day I had to spend sitting on my hands when visiting a girlfrind's parents. On the wall they had an old wooden clock, a stopped clock, a clock which GF's father had inherited from his father and was just sat there not working, a clock which I could almost feel ticking like some kind of mechanical phantom limb pain. Eventually GF's mother took pity on my twitching and handed me the clock with a look to her husband that clearly said "well he can't make it any worse, can he..."
For the next hour I was happy as a pig in cheltenham. Disassembling, cleaning, straightening, rebuilding and balancing to my little ticky heart's content. Finally finished, hung the clock on the wall and was rewarded with a good solid regular tick that even now I remember with a certain degree of pride. Even better was the slightly odd look that GF's father gave me when the clock ran, and stayed running. He'd been told that it was a hopless ireparable case and would never work again.
Some children are born with a silver spoon in their mouths, mine I expect will have a screwdriver in one hand and a spanner in the other.
*In which my dad and I were visiting my uncle. A brief mention by my aunt that the washing machine was making a funny noise and the three of us had the thing disassembled on the kitchen floor within 15 minutes.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 16:18, 10 replies)
Crisps!
Oh God. If there is one thing I can't stand in the world, it is people who eat things upside down. If someone opens a bag of crisps from the bottom in front of me, I have to tell them how wrong they are and walk away until they've finished eating their abomination. This is how the conversation goes:
Me: AARGH! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?
Offender: ?
Me: IT'S UPSIDE DOWN! YOU'VE OPENED IT UPSIDE DOWN! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?!?!? *stomps off*
Offender: ?
It has not won me many friends, I will tell you. However, most people know not to do it to me now, apart from my bitch of a sister, who will ONLY open things upside down because "that's where the flavour is". Like I said, bitch.
If I open a bag of crisps upside down through some hellish mistake, I will throw them away. There is nothing that could make me eat them. This all started when I was a very young child, and therefore not in charge of opening my own packets, and I just can't stand it - I'm actually on edge just thinking about it.
The only other slightly wierd thing I can think of is that when Mr. Anodyne and I share a bed, wherever we are, at home, a hotel, or wherever, I am ALWAYS nearest the door, and he is always the furthest away and/or against the wall. The strangest thing about that is that we only realised it happened after we had been together about 4 years and without discussion, we always gravitate towards 'our' side of the bed. We tried swapping once, to see what happened. We were back in our rightful places within two minutes as we both felt so uncomfortable.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 15:58, 11 replies)
Oh God. If there is one thing I can't stand in the world, it is people who eat things upside down. If someone opens a bag of crisps from the bottom in front of me, I have to tell them how wrong they are and walk away until they've finished eating their abomination. This is how the conversation goes:
Me: AARGH! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?
Offender: ?
Me: IT'S UPSIDE DOWN! YOU'VE OPENED IT UPSIDE DOWN! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?!?!? *stomps off*
Offender: ?
It has not won me many friends, I will tell you. However, most people know not to do it to me now, apart from my bitch of a sister, who will ONLY open things upside down because "that's where the flavour is". Like I said, bitch.
If I open a bag of crisps upside down through some hellish mistake, I will throw them away. There is nothing that could make me eat them. This all started when I was a very young child, and therefore not in charge of opening my own packets, and I just can't stand it - I'm actually on edge just thinking about it.
The only other slightly wierd thing I can think of is that when Mr. Anodyne and I share a bed, wherever we are, at home, a hotel, or wherever, I am ALWAYS nearest the door, and he is always the furthest away and/or against the wall. The strangest thing about that is that we only realised it happened after we had been together about 4 years and without discussion, we always gravitate towards 'our' side of the bed. We tried swapping once, to see what happened. We were back in our rightful places within two minutes as we both felt so uncomfortable.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 15:58, 11 replies)
I don't like to make *toilet noises*
When I know someone else is in the room / cubicle next to me etc.....
I will trump loudly in front of my wife though.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 15:57, 5 replies)
When I know someone else is in the room / cubicle next to me etc.....
I will trump loudly in front of my wife though.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 15:57, 5 replies)
Holding my breath near fat people
I guess this came from the days of working in a computer game store, but too many times i was exposed to the foul, sour smell of unwashed balls, shitty arses and bad hygiene of overweight games players.
Obviously being pinned behind the counter forced me into sharing their ripened aroma without anywhere to go - including the man who had quite blatantly diarrhoea'd down his trousers who spent many, many minutes asking me about recent games.
Now every time I pass a fat person, I hold my breath.
Disclaimer: Not all fat people smell and not all gamers are fat or are unhygienic - but i take no chances.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 15:47, 2 replies)
I guess this came from the days of working in a computer game store, but too many times i was exposed to the foul, sour smell of unwashed balls, shitty arses and bad hygiene of overweight games players.
Obviously being pinned behind the counter forced me into sharing their ripened aroma without anywhere to go - including the man who had quite blatantly diarrhoea'd down his trousers who spent many, many minutes asking me about recent games.
Now every time I pass a fat person, I hold my breath.
Disclaimer: Not all fat people smell and not all gamers are fat or are unhygienic - but i take no chances.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 15:47, 2 replies)
Plucking rogue hairs
If I see a stray hair on my body (in a place where there is generally no hair), then I have to get rid of it. This also counts for any hairs that are significantly darker than others.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 15:43, 5 replies)
If I see a stray hair on my body (in a place where there is generally no hair), then I have to get rid of it. This also counts for any hairs that are significantly darker than others.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 15:43, 5 replies)
If it's dark enough outside I like to shower and bath in the dark. There's something about it I like.
( , Tue 6 Jul 2010, 15:39, 2 replies)
This question is now closed.