un intentional hoarding
Shortly before I moved out of my mum and dads house a few years back, my mum decided to do a 'clean' by which i mean she goes through each room in the house and turns it upside down.

I had moved back to my mum and dads for aboa few months previous, and had been out trying to sort out my mortgage.

I walked through the door and instantly noticed an atmosphere. My dad called me into the living room, with a look of disgust on his face.

"go up stairs, and sort that mess out, we found it under your bed" was all he said. I was confused, I didnt own any porn (except that on my laptop) so with a smirk on my face, I headed upstairs. There on the bed was a asda bag. Budgling and tightly tied at the top. what ever was in it, was just small enough in volume to fit in it.

It was very light, and soft.

I opened it up. straight away i knew what it was, and was slightly surprised all of it was mine.

Inside was several hundred pieces of stiff stuck together tissues.

I was seriously surprised, I had normally flushed away the evidence, but the odd one or two i would stuff under my bed to flush away the next day, perhaps i had done this more than my memory was telling me i had.
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Fri 4 May 2012, 13:25, 6 replies)

VIZ magazines
Then one new years eve, it was a masquerade party.
Struggling for a mask, I used The front cover of a VIZ which had a large pic of 8 Ace on the front. Worked a treat.
( Ya What Skiddlyboop, Fri 4 May 2012, 13:08, 5 replies)

Carrier Bags
My grandpa hoards carrier bags. And I don't just mean he keeps the ones from his shopping. If he's at a checkout and there are bags, he'll pocket them 'just in case'. Double bagging? Pshaw, triple or nothing! Subsequently the kitchen has at least 5 of those 'bag pipe' things, and every cupboard has a little pile neatly folded at the back.

Weirdly, if you want to use a bag, it will take a LONG time to find one that isn't 1. tiny, 2. Massive, 3. Holier than the pope or 4. Reserved for some special purpose.

And then it rains. And it's grandpa's hour.

Waterproof clothes? Rubbish, just tie a carrier bag over each foot and jump in the puddles! Cut a head and arm holes out of a large bag and use it as a waterproof coat! Those tiny bags you get in stationary shops make great hats! etc.

Also, if he's carrying a drink around with him in a bottle, he distrusts the bottle so much that there will be a minimum of 3 various carrier bags between it and his rucksack.

I secretly think he's related to the Witch of the West*, and will melt if he gets wet.

*Happy? :P
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Fri 4 May 2012, 12:56, 1 reply)

Also Magazines.
In the under-stairs cupboard is a stack of computer magazines, the most recent is which is from 2005. Some are much holder, including one featuring the front-cover story "QUAD SPEED CD DRIVES ARRIVE" and a Windows 95 special issue.

Mrs SLVA is in no position to complain, she has dozens of Performance Bike magazines from the early 90s.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Fri 4 May 2012, 12:52, 2 replies)

Tins
Mainly Quality Street tins from Christmas. "Ooh, I'll keep that and put stuff in them in the shed." There are about 8 in the shed stacked up in the corner. The top one contains bird seed for the feeder in the back garden, the rest are empty. Also at the back of the shed is a box with a dozen or so Cow & Gate formula milk tins in. One of which contains curtain hooks, and the rest are empty. The last time we bought C&G milk was in 1995.

The shed is my domain and Mrs SLVA keeps well away, therefore such stuff is never thrown out.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Fri 4 May 2012, 12:48, 1 reply)

Shoes and boots
What is it about footwear? I can chuck out 10-year-old frayed T-shirts nay bother, but the moment any shoes or boots wear out, I tuck them away in a cupboard and keep them "just in case I'll ever need them for gardening and stuff".

I must have about 20 pairs of shoes and boots, of which 6 get worn. I live in a tiny house and can't really justify it.

Anyone else have this strange sentimental attachment to footwear?
(IHateSprouts is baking a huge pie shaped like an enormous pie, Fri 4 May 2012, 11:54, 3 replies)

My mate's mum...
..kept herself 'happy' by continually ordering stuff for the kitchen from catalogues. They lived in a smallish terraced house - the mother, two sons and her coach driver husband who only showed up once a fortnight or so. Pleasantly stoned there one day, myself and a couple of friends decided we'd count exactly how much was in that kitchen. If memory serves there were 127 mugs (and more in boxes in the attic apparently), 32 wooden spoons (and as many rolling pins), twenty-odd teapots, several bread making machines, and enough crockery to run a large, busy restaurant. It was too daunting a task to count all the cutlery but I reckon they could have lived for months without ever needing to wash up. And then there were the saucepans, colanders, whisks, tea strainers, chopping boards, etc,etc, etc...
(Haywood Manley, Fri 4 May 2012, 11:17, 3 replies)

Special offers
My father-in-law cannot resist special offers in supermarkets. So if there's 3-for-2 on toothpaste he'll buy 15 packets. Same with soap, toilet roll, shampoo, deodorant, pasta, rice, and pretty much anything non-perishable. He used to have a big family around so I guess it made sense, but now they've all moved away, so he's still got most of the stuff around when the next 3-for-2 offer comes around, but he just can't resist it.

We went to stay there a few months ago, and I opened the wardrobe to unpack our clothes. It was completely jam-packed with toiletries. The bathroom cabinet was packed. The kitchen cupboards were packed. You could hardly move for multi-packs of toilet roll in the garage.

I asked him if they never had special offers on beer or wine at his supermarket. "Come in here lad", he said, and opened the door of the office, which was packed from floor to ceiling with cases of beer and boxes of wine. "Suppose you'd better help me drink it", he said. Not a bad bloke, my father-in-law.
(Smale is stuffed, Fri 4 May 2012, 10:01, 1 reply)

A tale of two lofts
A few winters ago, I discovered that the council not only subsidised loft insulation, but would come and fit it for you; and I decided to avail myself of this bounty. They told me to make sure the space was clear and accessible. Not having been into the space before that point, I could see no reason why it wouldn't be clear. After all: providing access required that I cut a new hatch. No previous access must imply there being nothing to shift, surely?

Or not. In the loft-space were bags and bags' worth of lath and plaster waste. Maybe this had been left by the builders. Maybe. But the builders wouldn't also have left several bags of wallpaper stripping, or an inflatable paddling-pool. Rather than take this stuff to the bin, a previous owner had plainly decided that it's be much less bother to leave this stuff in the loft, and then seal it all in. It took my dad and me all day to shift it.

And then I moved house. The new place was a fixer-upper, and - once again - I decided that now was a good time to get loft insulation done. This time, there was a loft-hatch; but it was at the time small, and there was no ladder. The insulation guy struggled up to pop his head through the hatch, and shone a torch.
"There's a bit of rubbish up here," he said. "You'll have to shift it before we can do anything."
No problem. With only a small hatch and no latter, there couldn't be much. The previous owner had been elderly and infirm, too, so wouldn't have been able to shift a great deal up there. And one of the things the builders were about to do was to make the hatch bigger, with a ladder, and to wire in some light up there. Like I said: not a problem.

I should have known better. Ladder and light installed, I ventured up.

I still don't know how so much crap could have been stored up there and not fallen through the ceiling of the rooms below. There were piles of old clothes, old eiderdowns, a the components of a broken radiogram, cutlery, a couple of carpets, crockery and glassware, book after book of schematics for 1960s kit-cars, and a couple of wardrobes - among much else.

Having expected to be able to clear the loft in a couple of trips to the tip, it was clear that that was simply not going to be possible. It'd take five, ten, maybe more. And I'd still be left with the bits of wardrobe: even dismantled, I'd struggle to get them into the back of a Punto.

This was going to need a skip. Pricey, perhaps: but less faff, and I was prepared to take the hit.

The rubbish from a loft with - remember - a small access hatch and no ladder almost filled an 8-cubic-yard container. By the time I'd finished the task, there were several carrier bags' worth of dust clinging to me: I looked like I'd just escaped from Pompeii. When the loft was finally cleared, I swear I heard the whole house sigh in relief. I think it might have risen a few inches up from its foundations, too.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 4 May 2012, 9:47, Reply)

From "The Meaning of Liff"
Nottage n.

Nottage is the collective name for things which you find a use for immediately after you've thrown them away. For instance, your greenhouse has been cluttered up for years with a huge piece of cardboard and great fronds of gardening string. You at last decide to clear all this stuff out, and you burn it. Within twenty-four hours you will urgently need to wrap a large parcel, and suddenly remember that luckily in your greenhouse there is some cardb...
( .Yeti., Fri 4 May 2012, 8:49, 6 replies)

My deceased Father-In-Law
Could never throw anything away. Even a 6 inch piece of string would be hoarded, and put away "just in case I might need it some day".
Obviously, it never did, but it got to be such a running joke with us, that when the old fellow finally popped his clogs, I tied a book up (he was always reading, and I promised him when I'd finished said book (Blue Blood, by Edward Conlon, if anyone is interested)), with said pieces of string, and placed in his coffin.
After all, he couldn't go into whatever is after all this with no string, could he?
( Duke Of Belmsford has got 99 records, but Jay-Z ain't one, Fri 4 May 2012, 8:43, 2 replies)

Yarn..
Miles of the bloody stuff, the colour and texture just gets me excited.
Especially if its pure wool, and not mixed with the plastics..
My favourie is Lopi especially lettlopi, georgeous stuff.
(lordy lordy, Fri 4 May 2012, 8:30, Reply)

Sheds
My Father-in-law just used to build new sheds instead of cleaning out the old ones. Looking after his house when he was in hospital, I put all the bent and rusty nails into a bucket, whence I then labelled "Nails not worth keeping".
(boozehound is drinking your bar dry, Fri 4 May 2012, 8:17, 5 replies)

I collect songs on "mix tapes".
Who'd like to see a list?
(oneinthepink is at your cervix m'lady, Fri 4 May 2012, 8:14, 1 reply)

I DUN BUY TOILET PAPERS EVERY WEEK SO I CAN HAZ A SHIT OR CLEAN UP AFTER I HAZ A MINGING FUCK WITH A GROTTY PROZZIE.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Fri 4 May 2012, 6:51, Reply)

I still have my penis.
Mainly for sentimental reasons, since there's very little chance of it ever being used.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 4 May 2012, 4:42, 10 replies)

Software
All of it. How many people do you know still have MS Macro Assembler and Lotus 123 at their fingertips? I Can't help it; I'm a nostalgic romantic. If there was a BBS still active somewhere and I had a modem, ProComm2.0 and I are ready.
(CasualGovtObserver, Fri 4 May 2012, 2:38, 1 reply)

I think we need to set a line where genuine collection due to an enjoyment of an object/subject,
Turns in to hoarding. Otherwise we've got a whole week of "i regularly buy X lol"
( Windy Pig I'm naturally quite suspicious about the moon., Fri 4 May 2012, 2:37, 2 replies)

The fact that we have a room in our house
that the whole family calls "The Crap Room" covers this one I think.

Alt: This is the OCD 1 all over again isn't it?
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Fri 4 May 2012, 0:00, 1 reply)

I don't own any game consoles whatsoever.*
I do, however, own more books than my local library branch.

Partly because, if I see a good book in a charity shop, I will buy spare copies to loan to my (book destroying) friends.

So, for example, I have 8 copies of "Memoirs of a Geisha" (in 3 languages), 3 of each of the Roald Dahl books, 2 of each of the 'classics' (Railway Children, Gulliver's Travels, Dickens etc). There's also a comics section- Tintin, Asterix, Serenity, Sin City etc, and an extensive nonfiction section.

I am proud to say that, in this collection, I have NO copies of any Twilight books, or any other fangbanger fiction of any kind. Nor do I have any Dan Brown. Nor, aside from those of comedians such as Dara O Briain, do I own any smegging autobiographies.

*worth stating, since 90% of the posts thus far are about collections of these.
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Thu 3 May 2012, 23:50, 18 replies)

Unfortunately not me,
but I have a mate who hoards five pound notes. One draw of his chest of draws is so full of them it doesn't open or close properly any more. He's considering having his housekeeper iron them all, so he can fit more in.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Thu 3 May 2012, 23:50, 7 replies)

I have every computer and console I have ever owned...
I have a...
ZX81, BBC Model B, BBC Master (With twin Opus disk drives), ZX Spectrum 48, 128+2, Atari ST, and two Amiga five hundreds.
Consoles:
Atari 2600, Super NES, DS, PSP, PS1,2,3.
As I'm newly single and am moving to my own place I plan to set them all up (Including my retro toy collection) on a massive set of shelves set in the open staircase of said Man Pad thus ensuring that no woman will sleep with me in there - Ever. ;-)
( JamHamster My eyes, my beautiful eyes!, Thu 3 May 2012, 23:41, 9 replies)

Musical Instruments
So I live with a tribe of professional musicians. I don't know how familiar b3tans might be with the species, but we do tend to get very, VERY excited over instruments. Especially musical ones.

This leads to problems. Especially since most musicians are 1. Pathological Ebayers 2. Fueled by Alcohol and 3. Ridiculously competitive. Conversations include:

"Look, look! I've bought a new tenor horn!" "But... it's completely tarnished! And there's a big hole in it. It won't make a noise!" "IT DOESN'T MATTER I CAN PUT BEER IN IT AND DO WHIT FRIDAY IN MIME!!"

"I bought a new 'cello yesterday." "Don't they cost, like, hundreds of pounds? And you've never played 'cello in your life!" "Well, that sod Mike said it was difficult to play, and I wasn't letting him get away with that. I can play the flute, this will be easy... and I'LL SHOW HIM!"

Purchases this year also include 25 ukeleles ("I'm staring a uke choir!").

And what do we do with all these lovely musical instruments? Well, when someone sleeps in, we play Gaudete really, REALLY badly outside their door to wake them up. And that's pretty much it.
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Thu 3 May 2012, 23:19, 9 replies)

Does anyone else do this?
1. Get some toiletry e.g. shower gel/moisturiser/shampoo.
2. Use until about a centimeter remains at the base, then go round the shops to get a replacement.
3. Prefer the new shower gel because you're bored of the old scent; use new bottle instead of finishing up old one.
4. Repeat ad nauseum
5. End up with 10 or 20 different bottles of shower gel with 1cm of soap at the bottom.

I currently have 7 shower gels, 3 bath soaps and about 20 different moisturisers in a box- not enough soap in any of them for a proper wash, mind, but too much for me to justify chucking them. Occasionally I try to use them up and end up smelling of weird combinations e.g. tea tree, rose, lavender and chocolate.
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Thu 3 May 2012, 23:01, 16 replies)

Never going to happen
A little over ten years ago, I moved into a small studio flat in Greenwich, but unusually for a property of that size, storage really wasn't an issue - there was a Portakabin, of all things in the garden (the flat was previously part of commercial premises).

So, all the books, newspapers, magazines, souvenirs etc I'd stored in my mum's garage from my teens onwards (and added to over the subsequent couple of decades) now had a home, and more importantly, one where it would be easy for me to finally sort everything out.

Shortly after, I met the missus, she moved in, we got married and led a hectic social life, and well... I just never found time to sort the stuff out in 'the shed' as we called it. Indeed, there was more of it than ever before.

After five years in that flat, we moved to Oxford, nice Victorian terraced cottage with a spare bedroom. Anything that had been in the Portakabin went straight into the spare bedroom and... well, put it this way, when we had people to stay, they ended up on the futon in the living room. Meanwhile, the pile of stuff in the spare room kept getting added to.

The landlord was selling the house, so we went looking a bit further out of Oxford, and I imagine my face lit up when the estate agent showed us a property with a nice outbuilding I could use as an office... and a repository for my collection. We moved in, spent two years there, and the accumulation of stuff kept on growing. As for the office... well, it never happened.

We're now in a pretty big house considering there's just the two of us and the dog, and when we viewed the property, we both thought the downstairs front room would make a perfect office. I'm sure it won't surprise anyone to learn that you can hardly get in there right now for all the clutter.

Can't for the life of me think why the missus never believes me when I say I'll get it sorted out one weekend.. although writing this has made me realise that it's about bloody time I did.
(Capo, Thu 3 May 2012, 22:57, 3 replies)

The hoards yearn for opportunities to be useful
Because of my big basement, I host not only my hoards, but those of others: people who have long-forgotten what they own. I'm still looking for appropriate uses for everything.

I had a yard sale once, and discovered there was an unmet demand for styrofoam mattresses. Who would have known? Made some cash there!

I've turned old medication bottles into canisters for screws and bolts. Visiting handymen can read the labels and give advice about dosages as they plunder my supplies.

The hoard of incandescent light bulbs has proven useful for those circuits with unreliable current, where compact fluorescent bulbs burn out.

A homeless man asked me to store an immense exercise machine for him. I laid it on its side in the garage and covered it with a tarp. Now, it's a refuge for my pet rabbit when the neighborhood possum comes raiding the rabbit's food supply at 3 a.m.

But the other hoards - the Christmas wrapping, the French historiography journals, the herbicide, the magazines featuring Lady Gaga, the plastic buckets, the plastic owls, the colored grout - they've yet to prove their merit.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Thu 3 May 2012, 20:43, 1 reply)

Random shit
Animal bones. Stegosaurus related crap. Giraffe related junk. Postcards. Postcards featuring stegosauruses or giraffes. Skulls of giraffes? No, don't have that yet.

Oh, and I suppose the almost 40 varieties of chilli plants I bought off eBay the other month.
( Bathory, Thu 3 May 2012, 20:30, Reply)

SQUAWK!!!
*points to pile of cuttlefish bones and secret stash of trill mixed with excrement*

I CAN'T BUILD A FUCKING NEST

squawk
(bollocks parrot squawk squawk squawk, Thu 3 May 2012, 19:51, 5 replies)

Vauxhall Chavaliers
I have just about every single Vauxhall Cavalier sales brochure since 1988. I know that they were shit, but i can't bring myself to throw them out and am entrenched in the belief they'll be worth something in years to come.

They won't though.
(Colostomy Bag Explosion Lubing the gears of commercialism, Thu 3 May 2012, 19:49, 2 replies)

Stuff that 'might be usefull oneday.'
7 years later on and standing at the chekout in Wickes I'm reminded of the tools and boxes of nuts, bolts, screws, speare bits and pieces of wood because one day the 'might' come in handy all lost in a divorce and the ex letting some helpful 'freinds' clear out the shed for her.

I have since filled a garage with mancrap but it never seems to be the right bits for the jobs I need to do.

The Missus hoards candles. Scented ones, shaped ones, floating ones. Yet never seems to want to light any of them.

I'm currenty working on a hoard of £20 notes so if anyone wants to contribute.
(Gru being trolled since 1998, Thu 3 May 2012, 19:19, Reply)