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This is a question Local Nutters

Everywhere in the world has its fair share of deranged people. I grew up in Wolverhampton and remember the Polish tramp who lived in a tent on the roundabout. Legend had it that his coat was stuffed with cash. More recently I notice the guy who spends his day pushing a trolley round Camden Sainsburys shouting, "Best of luck!". Constantly. Tell us about your local nutters. Points for details. Extra points for photos.

(, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 11:54)
Pages: Latest, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, ... 1

This question is now closed.

The man downstairs
was dead for three weeks.
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 15:26, Reply)
The Kingston Rasta
I thought I had better elaborate on the Kingston Upon Thames nutty Rasta mentioned by Peet earlier on - his name is Moses and has been around for the last 23 years hanging outside Burger King on Eden Street chatting shit to anyone who'll listen. Apparently (according to Moses) he is the son of a wealthy African Prince and is only here because he is trying to recruit soldiers for his army so he can carry out a coup. He also claims that he owns half of the town but dresses down to avoid too much attention. Wearing lycra short, skateborading knee pads and the top half of a tuxedo all at the same time never attracts attention in my book. Rumour has it that he is a grass for the police but that has never been verified.
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 15:25, Reply)
in subiaco ... a proper area in perth wa
there is one homeless old guy whos name is russel... he often hangs around hungry jacks (burger king), the markets or the local train station and on making eye contact with you asks "hey howz it goin jockey" or love depending on guy or girl "have you got a couple of dollars" ... he is harmless but will ask you again and again if u happen to walk past more than once. He has a hunch back too ... i think its for sympathy rumour has it that he is faking it. A friend of mine was at the trainstation late at night and saw him get up and stand straight and walk away .! he can be good for a conversation if you enjoy answering the same questions over and over again. There is also a freaky guy who stays down near the local shopping center and talks to the old ladies who dont seem to mind at all .. he doesnt beg i think he is just lonely. My dog hates him.
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 15:21, Reply)
Well....I grew up on a council estate in Greater Manchester called Hattersley (on the outskirts of Hyde). Looking through the posts I can see that Manchester has more than its fair share of nutters. I think I should add a few more to the mix.

On Hattersley our nutter was Gilbert, a 6'4" black man who wore a blue padded anorak and a wooly hat. He wandered around Hattersley, Hyde, and occasionally Ashton, standing on street corners chuckling away and sometimes talking to himself. He was harmless and us kids rarely had a go at him (mainly because someone figured out that Gilbert would give them money if you asked him nicely).

As I said, most people left him to himself but one night I remember some Chavs having a massive go at him, shouting and laughing, and throwing bricks. My dad (being brave or quite possibly stupid) went over to see if he could help, only to be told by Gilbert that he should go back to his car "them's bad people".
As my dad got back into his car, Gilbert threw one almighty wobbler and chased the Chavs back to their chav-mobile (a Vauxhall Nova or similar natch), where Gilbert promptly ripped the door of said chav-mobile off its hinges. That showed them. They shit themselves and sped off, minus one car door (which Gilbert was waving around in the air).

It was the single most impressive thing I have ever seen. Spack Attacks rule.

Oh, and we also have two local characters who are (or were) a teensy bit loopy. You may have heard of them...they go by the names of Ian Brady and Harold Shipman.

It must be something in the water near here. Now, time for my medication...muhahahahahaha...
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 15:07, Reply)
Bournemouth's full of 'em
The mad old busker mentioned early on in this thread was, bizarrely,
actually called Harry Potter! Doubt JK Rowling had him in mind though...
A few others I can recall. I used to work in Tandy in the Boscombe district
("affectionately" known as Little Liverpool by the local Plod, due to the
number of Scallies that used to hang around there, but I digress). We had a
regular oddball called Graham who would come in every day with the same
question: "Have you got any watches?" "Yes Graham - here they are in the
display cabinet right in front of you." "Ah. That's a nice one. Do you think
I should buy it?" "No Graham - you have about six on you already" And he did
- all up one arm. Genius.
Another local nutter once marched stark bollock naked out of the public
lavatories and strode off down the high street shouting "Left! Right! Left!
The best one, and many Bournemouthians will remember him, was the guy who
was convinced the alien spaceships were coming for him, so he would cycle
around without an inch of skin showing - thick coat, skiing goggles and
gloves, tracksuit trousers tucked into his mountain boots just to be
certain, even in the middle of summer. But what REALLY made him stand out
from your common or garden nutter was the fact he wore a self-made hat
fashioned from silver foil and cardboard, complete with optional pull-down
visor for when the alien radio waves were at their most intense. And he
looked a bit like the Unabomber.

I alway apologise for length, so as to avoid disappointment
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 14:52, Reply)
Ah! The devil's wheelchair!...
ManekiNeko... Is the wheelchair guy still alive?? I have been past his hideout recently (he didn't live on the streets, but in a maisonette in Allesley Village), but alas, he hasn't been sitting at the window taking pictures of every passer-by for ages.

Maybe he's joined goldie lookin' chain...

Or his scooter ran out of batteries... meh...
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 14:52, Reply)
Fat Blind Whistler
He lives in Wolverhampton, used to live in Shrewsbury, he's not a nutter and he makes a fucking fortune doing it.
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 14:50, Reply)
Bird Woman
Anyone know the Alms Houses at the back of the Army & Navy in Maidstone? Probably about to be demolished for the new shopping centre...
Ever noticed that the towns entire pigeon population seems to live on the roof of the house nearest A&E on one day of each week?
I forget which day it is, but a little old lady will emerge from this house, around lunchtime, carrying several entire loaves that have been pounded into breadcrumbs, and shuffle accross the road to sit in Brenchley Gardens (by the wishing well). As she crosses the road, she is followed by a cloud of pigeons, like a scene from The Birds.
The woman will then chuck breadcrumbs in front of her for about five minutes, until she has no bread left, whilst the pigeons enjoy a feeding frenzy.
You might think "Oh, she's just lonely and the pigeons are her only company". But, no, as soon as she has thrown her bread, she shuffles back to her little house, paying no heed to the pigeons whatsoever.

The council can stick up as many "Do Not Feed The Pigeons" notices as they want, I don't think anything will break this little ritual. Still, the pigeons know when they're onto a good thing, although I feel sorry for whoever moves into that house after she dies, as they'll doubtless be mobbed regularly by irate, flying vermin.
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 14:21, Reply)
Backwards Man
Denizens of Earlsdon no doubt will be familiar with this unearthly figure. Late one night after a serious D&D session (yes) I had an otherworldly encouter with this reverse shuffling oddball which up me right shit.

Similar Cov cranks earned such noble titles as Banana man, the Co-Op druid, Forbidden Planet Monk, the Devil's Wheelchair, Dog Kicker and Pig Boy, and the possibly sane Pigeon protection force. Looking back I am beginning to ponder whether they ended up living on the streets because their careers as superheroes floundered due to their main powers being just too uncanny.
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 14:05, Reply)
Toy Mike Trevor
Toy Mike Trevor in Cardiff is not at all mad - he is a perfectly sane little old man and just a busker, albeit a wee bit over the hill
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 13:32, Reply)
i dont know anyone wierd where i live
which probably means that im the village wierdo
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 13:16, Reply)
Doug E fresh
Scab man makes me feel ill. He's always asking money for Savlon. It's probably not the lack of Savlon that keeps it bleeding, it's him picking at it every morning! One for the hepatitis clinic in the near future no doubt.

Also in Camden, a guy who calls himself Douggie Fresh (presumably not the famous one.) He once threatened to stab me in the throat with a broken cd for not respecting his space.

(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 11:57, Reply)
Ah... Henley.
I am pretty sure that as a small(ish) town we have more than our fair share of complete nutters. Let me begin with the man who, when walking, looks like he is sitting down (arse very low to ground, knee's bent), he is always walking somewhere, wearing black, and dresses up when the regatta is on. Rumour has it that when the local mental home closed, the council had to house him because he wasn't 'mental enough' to be relocated.

And briefly;
-The fat ginger tramp who has been in the same orange and turqouise shell suit since around 1993.
-Kronenberg Dave (formally Stella man) who sits and drinks pint after pint of, you guessed it, Kronenberg, and will sit and tell you all about himself. He recently tried to set me up with his son and gave me self addressed postcards for me to write on and send to him... Nice guy though, oh actually apart from his chronic bad breath, b-o and quite possibley the WORST case of dandruff I have ever seen. Gross.

Crikey, this is a bit long and not very witty either, sorry about that x
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 11:43, Reply)
this silly old witch
used to walk up and down my street with one of those shitty little chihauhas. Everytime time the dog left a shit on someone's front lawn, it's owner would bend down, wipe its ass and put the tissue back in her pocket. she looked like she had some serious cancer. My childhood was littered with nightmares of her throwing her dog's ass tissues at me.
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 11:34, Reply)
I met the scabey-neck guy from Camden on the night bus last week! - he operates in the West End too, and was heading home...- he was telling me all about his scabey neck, and how he "doesn't intimidate anyone" (err, ok...) he also told me he's from Weston-super-Mare, which made him 1,000,000 times funnier, to my mind. And he was eating runny yoghurt.
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 11:28, Reply)
I feel that I have to mention
the very pale people who congreate at the bottom of Union Street in Maidstone. I'll point out now that they're not strictly mad, just, er, devout.
Sometimes, they are just two, pale women, other times there are more of them, all pale, mostly frail, men and women.
They stand on one side of the road (outside the Christian Bookshop), facing the other, and pray, very quietly, whilst one of them holds up a faded picture of the Virgin Mary.
First time I saw them, I was really rather freaked out (it was just the two women) and made may way quickly past them. The second time, when the whole gang was there, I stopped to gawp at them, and realised what they were doing: they're standing opposite the Marie Stopes centre and praying for the souls of the aborted. Pretty intimidating for anyone entering or leaving Marie Stopes, I would imagine, especially as watching them makes you wonder if you've gone deaf (their mouths move, but you have to get really close to hear what they are saying). One day I might point out to them that, whilst Marie Stopes is infront of them, there's a funeral home behind them (next to the bookshop).
I've also spotted the two, wandering around town at the weekends, Virgin Mary held out in front, praying (for everyone's souls?) in their usual, sub-audible manner.

There's also two me (used to be just the one) who set up a stall outside Marks & Spencer, shouting to all and sundry that we are sinners, and are dammned and will go to hell. I'm not quite sure why they do this, as no one has ever (to my knowledge) stopped to read their signs or take one of their leaflets. Mostly, they just make small children cry.

Whilst I'm at it, I might aswell mention the Maidstone tramp who looks almost identical to Bill Maynard's Greengrass character from Heartbeat (same hat, same beard, same scarf, same coat, same face). A harmless old duffer, been around for years, he would stagger about the town, clutching his brown paper bag, muttering to himself. Tried (unsuccessfully) to pick a fight with a friend of mine once (he was harmelss really, so we weren't too upset!).
I think he was killed a few years ago at Christmas, after deciding that a bus lane was a good place to lay down in.*

*Any part of this story, from the man's appearance, to his eventual demise, may have been embellished, in the way that all good stories are, after time.
But the religious freaks are all too real.

(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 10:39, Reply)
Cambridge - Mill Road, again
I had the pleasure of running into an old homeless Irishman outside a second hand store (near the Locomotive). A pleasent old chap, with a rather large gobule of dark orange phlem hanging off his crusty beard. Our encounter was brief, but poignant... If memory serves me correctly, our conversation went thusly...

Tramp: (sceaming) DO YOU KNOW WHY I STINK?
Me: Why's that then?
Tramp: *shits himself and rubs his produce over his buttocks and back of thighs*

...And I never saw him again - I often lie in bed thinking what he's up to now.
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 10:29, Reply)
deepest, darkest wales
that's where i grew up, the kind of place where there's only 4 surnames, y'know. So we had more than our fair share of chin biters. there was the mad professor, he was this ol' fella who wandered round town wearing a monacle, he was perfectly lucid, but he wore shorts, all year round, even when there was 2 foot of snow on the ground, tiny p.e. type shorts too.
then there was dog-girl, she was quite sad really, she was a few years below me in school, and genuinely thought she was a dog, what the fuck she was doing in a normal high school i have no idea, but there she was, she used to growl and bark at people who tried to steal her crisps or wind her up, which of course happened constantly.
then there was the heartwarming tale of jane and dai strawberry, jane was a cleaner in the school and dai was a general handyman/janitor type. now they were both kinda 'special', dai was called dai strawberry because he was massively obese and bright red. he wasn't quite all there but i wouldn't say he was totally wacko, but jane, jane was the perfect example of why cousins shouldn't marry, nuclear ginger, with glasses like the bottoms of newcy brown bottles, she would bustle around the school in a fug of bo, muttering away to herself like a full-on loon. she drove a scooter, which to this day probably still has an L plate, and her parents had to paint the rockery in front of their house yellow, because she kept walking into other people's houses thinking they were hers. dai and jane got married, awwww, makes you realise there's someone for everyone don't it, and then they had a baby, poor little sod.
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 9:08, Reply)
crazy sicilian widow type
who lives around the corner. Her name is Maria and she's always sweeping the walkway in front of her house and she's always sitting on the stoop watching everyone in the neighborhood and giving passerbys dirty looks. She has to be in her 70's but she insists that she's only in her 50's... Oh and she puts her trash in front of my house when it's our pick-up day and not hers aaand she likes to look in people's windows.
(, Tue 21 Sep 2004, 5:34, Reply)
Mad Lady
She lives round the corner and goes by the name of June, although she told me her name is Florence but being the junior of her family, she is June. She has to be 75 at least. She has had operations to have most of her brain removed, as well as a kidney, she is almost totally deaf and blind, but it doesnt stop her - she can spot a potential victim from at least 100 yards. The favourite method of entrapment is to rush up and give you a bear hug or else trip you with her white stick, and give you something, usually a flower she has picked from her garden. And then she starts talking. About the war. About the council. About the local murders. About kids. About her fellow tenants. On and on and on she drones while relieved looking people scuttle past. And she likes practical jokes - one time she superglued 20p to the floor just to watch people try to pick it up, but she said some guy came along with a hammer and chisel at night. Ah well.
(, Mon 20 Sep 2004, 23:50, Reply)
Odd Ball...
I grew up in the backwards town of Newton Abbot in Devon. Every Friday whilst out on the usual pub crawl we would see this bizzare looking little fella. He was about 4ft 8" with thick specks and always wore a checked shirt and sleeveless jacket thing (I forget the technical term for one of these), but he would always "shoot" passers by with his forefinger. He had a habbit of standing outside the pub window trying to make eye contact with patrons so he could continue to gun them down. Strange man, mostly harmless I beleive.
(, Mon 20 Sep 2004, 21:38, Reply)
Cork nutter
Some old guy (looks kind of like dumbledore, half moon glasses and such)who rides the number 7 bus in Cork city clad in about 15 jumpers and numerous pairs of tracksuit pants no matter what the weather and listens to a walkman with what are possibly the biggest earphones ever invented, funny thing is that the earphones are on over a hood and several hats. Sometimes he's sitting at the bus stops singing quietly to himself, at least he isn't violent anyway.
also recently found out that my chemistry teacher grew up in a mental home, sure his dad was a doctor there but im the only one in the class, should i be worried?
(, Mon 20 Sep 2004, 21:11, Reply)
'pologies for length.
Friend of mine is on the bus when this total loon gets on.
Quite obviously stoned and stinking of vodka he shambles down to the back of the bus and yells "Give me a fucking seat ya yids!" so everybody scrambles and he lies flat out across the back row of the bus.
Two stops later the bus is driving full pelt down the road when he suddenly runs to the front of the bus and screams "Stop the bus ya fuckin!" (nothing is missing there btw) So this bus driver, being the cranky bastard that all bus drivers are promptly tells him to fuck off, at which point the nutter pulls his hand from his pocket does that 2 finger gun thing that 5-year-olds do and yells "Ill fucking kill you!" Spinning wildly to face the other passengers he points the fingers at them screaming "Ill blow your fuckin heads off!" Then goes up to some poor elderly woman and whines "Muuuuuuuuummmmmmm, he won't stop the bus!"
So at the next stop he ploughs his way out the doors and while the other passengers board, he pisses on the windscreen giving himself what was probably his first shower in several years.
God bless public transport
(, Mon 20 Sep 2004, 21:04, Reply)
6 months ago
there was a flasher that was nicked in Croydon, he was 'showing the girls his big black cock' funny because he was a small asian bloke, and all the victims laughed at his 'minature' cock. He was a true nutter and genuinely thought he was black

(, Mon 20 Sep 2004, 18:50, Reply)
Train Time
I was on a train coming back from Brighton and this nutter bursts through the door, throws a baby's bottle full of milk at this old couple and screams "it came from outer space"

Later he walked back in and pissed out of the window saying that cos the train was moving fast it would disperse the piss and then 'they' souldnt be able to get his DNA.
The real funny thing was that the window was closed and his piss sprayed back all over him, we were also stopped at a station and there were loads of people outside his door watching him and waiting to get on the train, needless to say they walked to another door.

I was Humbled by his genuis
(, Mon 20 Sep 2004, 18:45, Reply)
Yay for nutters
Theres a nutter in south Croydon that walks down the pavement and every 10 steps he suddenly walks straight into the road then laughs and walks back.
This is just strange, but note that he also has a couple of foot of kitchen roll hanging out of his ears, nose and mouth.
And he laughs like Dr Evil
(, Mon 20 Sep 2004, 18:38, Reply)
Croydon's Best
Since Cane Hill Mental Hospital closed they seem to have released them back into the wild.
Many ot this lot are homing nutters, they regularly try going home to the hospital and sleep in the surrounding countryside.

Last year I watched one of them SHITTING over the edge of the railway bridge onto passing cars, he layed a beuty on some arehole in a BMW who was 3 cars behind me, I nearly pissed myself it was like a waterbomb of Brown paint.

I say arsehole because he was driving like a wanker, not because its a BMW
(, Mon 20 Sep 2004, 18:34, Reply)
even in the countryside there's a nutter
this geezer looks like an apache, he's about 6ft 3 black hair , swarthy, no fingers on his right hand, so easily identified !
he gets a landrover out on test drive and disappears, 6hrs later the dealer gets a call from another dealer several hundred miles away who discribes the guy and says he's trying to sell the landrover, of course the geeezer denies it and reckons someone's impersonating him, he also claims to have smuggled donkeys from cumbria to mexico during the great mexican donkey shortage in the 80's, and reckons he pole vaulted into Sellafield nuclear plant to plant a dummy bomb but the bomb disposal boys couldn't suss it so whilst they had their tea break, as they do ! he vaulted back in and removed the bomb, his opening line in most conversations is "if you want someone terminated see me "
nutter of the highest order but married to a real nice lass
(, Mon 20 Sep 2004, 17:36, Reply)
Working in Camden...
...ensures we always have our fair share of nutters. Some we fear - like the youngish bald bloke with the massive scab on he back of his head that he peels off to gain sympathy from potential money donors. Some we love - like the massive bloke with a beard and straw hat, special brew in hand, shouting loudly at anyone and everyone in such a way that would be terrifying if it wasn't so funny. And others make our minds boggle with their genius - like the toothless hag that came up to me the other day. She claimed to be pregnant and needed some money to get some food. Being a generous bloke, and you never know, she might have been pregnant, I dived into my pockets to come up with nothing but a twenty pound note. Now, in her head, she's thinking, 'He's never going to give me that much' and formulates a plan of attack. So she reiterates that she's pregnant, adding "And it's yours." to the end of it. What the cock do you say to that? Apart from 'Fuck off''. Which I did.
(, Mon 20 Sep 2004, 17:20, Reply)
(apologies for length)
(, Mon 20 Sep 2004, 17:13, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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