"Rocky"
I just gotta mention "Rocky". He lives in Farnborough and everyone from the town knows him. He is a scary m*therf**ker ! A giant of a man who wears a wifebeater, tracksuit bottoms, and knackered trainers. One of his feet is about 3 sizes bigger than the other and sticks out the end of his shoe :) I kid you not - this man is a brute !

He has hair all over his body, apart from his head. Tufts stick out from his wifebeater, almost like a chimps body under that top I reckon.

Rocky is well known coz he just hangs out in garages. He stands at the counter, not wanting anything, he hasn't got petrol, doesn't want fags, he just stands there. Alot. When he gets bored, he goes to another garage to freak people out.

Here is a tip - NEVER talk to Rocky. It will only result in a deep, low grumble of "F*CK OFF". That is all he says. Ever !

He is such a legend we had a Rocky Hunt one weekend. The first to have photographic evidence of the manbeast won £7.50 - me and a mate amazingly drove past him whilst looking, did a u-turn and followed him to the chemist. Got him on video camera too :) Then he saw us, and boy did we shit ourselves !!! I'm just glad my car is faster than his....

Never did get that £7.50 - damn.

Rocky lives in a tent in a field with his uber-scary dogs. The other day he was burning dead bodies (we presume) as thick black stinking smoke was coming from his campsite.

Goddam that is a scary freak. Must dig out the video footage - you will surely agree :)
(JBoom, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:24, Reply)

In manchester there are far too many nutters
I see that some attempt to catalogue them has already begun, so I will add my own local nutter.

In Fallowfield, where I live there is a bloke who walks down the street talking, loudly and incoherently to himself. First of all i thought he had a bluetooth headset or something. Boy, was I wrong.

Once I was stood waiting to cross the road and he stopped behind me, talking away. I made the mistake of looking round at him. He was stood talking to a broken bit of wall quite calmly before proceeding to launch into an outburst the likes of which have never been seen. Laden down with many Sainsbury shopping bags he kicked the wall, the air,and several times, himself all the while shouting before suddenly dropping to a whisper and farting really loudly. Needless to say I crossed the road fairly quickly. He calmly stopped and carried on walking (fairly) normally away.

Also back in the village where i grew up in Yorkshire was a bloke who dressed up as a Cavalier and rode his horse up and down the road. He stepped in front of a train.

And in one of the four shitty clubs that Halifax has to offer (the Accapulco) there is a regular who seems slightly fruity.

Imagine the man from Del Montes grandfather. The white linen suit, the leather brogues.Not the wicker hat unfortunately. Now picture him dancing to the shitty 70s, 80s and 90s pop filth like he was doing the Charleston or the Foxtrot. On the plus side, he would inevitably approach your lady friends and try to chat to them thereby driving them into our protective arms - and all it took was for us to buy him a drink to obtain this service.
(monkeyseemonkeydo, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:23, Reply)

The Man Who Runs Backwards Into Shops
Hey - fisrt post! Yup, the Man Who runs Backwards into Shops in Blackpool is still around - , he was sectioned a couple of years ago (i Know coz I was visting someone in Parkwood and saw him there). He has taken to wearing bicycle clips but I have never seen him on a bike, only running backwards into shops, which he does with amazing skill!
(kirstickle, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:23, Reply)

The bloke with the Hare
Isn't confined to Didsbury, though that's where he normally is in the evening, but he's often seen wandering Lincoln and Albert Squares during the day, though he doesn't seem as popular with the women in our office, as they all refer to him as the weirdo with the rabbit.
(Mischeivious_Delinquent_Squirrel, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:20, Reply)

Manchester
Thank you The Mad Mr Wiggy, your knowledge of Manchester nutters (and links to them) is vast.
Have you spotted these ones (in addition to the Large Rabbit Man, who has been mentioned several times):
- Mr Complain: travels on public transport all day long complaining about things, usually the price of an object he's passing at that moment in time?
- Banana Student Boy: was spotted several times by a number of my friends. He travels down Wilmslow road, usually on Stagecoaches (not the crappy Finglands) and always seems to be having an argument with somebody on his mobile. The last converstaion I heard concluded with him shouting, "I'm not gay, my dick is like a banana!"
(Fully Goyle what?, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:19, Reply)

Another guy I saw in the pub yesterday...
Came in and ordered 2 pints, sat at a table and put the other pint opposite his seat... expecting company you would think?

Oh no, this guy. The headcase swaps seats every 5 minutes and gradually drinks both pints, talking to himself all the time, then fucks off.
(webdw, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:18, Reply)

i can't believe swaza beat me to it
it's true about the bloke in blackpool that runs backwards, i once saw "funky phil" stood in HMV's doorway looking into the shop, suddenly he set off in a sprint backwards diagonally across the pavement straight through the door of clintons cards, shout something, then turn, round and set off backwards down the road at an amazing pace!
(mountainloz i want a bulldog/Shih Tzu cross breed, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:17, Reply)

most of the local nutters end up on b3ta anyway don't they?
but here goes:

Had a supply teacher at my old school used to roll through the school corridors mumbling and very very drunk.

My wifey's from Bridgwater. There's a bloke there who walks around pretending to drive, complete with brrm brrm beep beep noises and changing gear as he walks around people.
--EDIT-- aah in fact - Disco Jeff from the post below. hallelujah.

Used to live in Torquay where Glen (his real name) would kneel on the pavement bellowing things like "PLEASE - I JUST WANT SOME FOOOOOOOD" which was his way of begging. Bless 'im.

I live in Newquay now, and there an old bloke who walks round in a mac wearing what at first glance is a kilt, but is actually a tartan picnic rug. He occasionally carries the obligatory "Jesus loves you" banner.
Almost makes me want to take the fishy off my car in case he comes up to me with a "praisethelordhallelujahhaveyoubeenwashedinthebloodofthelambbrother" and drops his picnic rug...
(teasus likes tea, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:16, Reply)

'Lost in Sheep'
Was what we called him. He's this mental old guy who lives around my town who has this crazy long white hair (hence the name). And he is a cross dresser.

There's also a drunk who walks through our school grounds some mornings carrying a bottle of Bushmills whiskey and waving at us.

And an english teacher in our school is a pure nutter. She stabbed some kid in the arm with a pencil for coughing, and she didn't even lose her job. She also talks to herself.

Nutters are funny.
(King In Crimson, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:16, Reply)

Norfolk Nutters.
I remember back when I was growing up that the fair city of Norwich had this one guy nicknamed 'marigold.' Marigold was this black gentleman who lived at the local David Rice clinic, and on warm sunny days, venture out onto the ring road and start to direct traffic, while wearing yellow washing up gloves. I think he was actually run over in the end.

The other famous Norwich weirdo, was the one that my friends and I named 'vibrating man'. His rise to fame and stardom was almost meteoric. We first noticed him, many years ago, playing the mouth organ outside of Jarolds Dept Store, and vibrating, almost occillating in a very bizarre manner, not at all in time with the eldrich screech coming from his musical instrument. He became a regular feature during those years, and then vanished for a couple of months, only to return further down the high-street, this time, armed with not only a mouth oprgan, but also a small elderly ghetto blaster and a sock puppet. This sock puppet was exactly that. A sock. No eyes, mouth decor etc, just a sock. He still vibrated. I can only assume, that he was promoted in whatever heirachy this underworld has, to a better pitch with which to scare children. When we we 14, and feeling particularly brave, we gave him a dime bar, instead of cash, and laughed nervously as he ate it, wrapper and all.
( bennyhillslovechild, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:16, Reply)

Swarmin' Norman - the employable nutter
There's a bloke who lives in a field alongside the A46 between Newark and Lincoln who, each time a badger or rabbit is killed on the road, scoops it up and lays it out on the bonnet of his van, so everyone can see the corpse.

He also tells everyone there's a panther on the loose on the A46 and that he used to be a member of the aristocracy but gave it all up to live in his collection of squalid caravans.

But despite the fact he's so obviolusly a loon, people pay him money to get rid of wasps' nests, hence the name.

So, a nutter, but obviously the acceptable face of nuttiness.
( Sausagegirl, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:09, Reply)

Disco Jeff
...is the 'Top of the bill headliner' mentalist in Bridgwater, Somerset - home town to myself, and quite possibly the highest nutter-to-normal ratio in the country.

Though he has been known to venture into more traditional public nudity and violent assualts, as a rule, Jeff's forte is jogging around town, pretending to be a heavy goods vehicle.

He will happily weave in and out of fast-moving traffic, making diesel engine noises and tooting the horn on his 'rig' all day, come rain or shine. Usually sporting a hand painted t-shirt bearing the witty slogan 'I AM GAY.'

His attention to detail and passion for his art are to be marvelled at. He was once arrested after making it as far as Weston-Super-Mare on the motorway (Inside lane, not hard shoulder), after a flooded road diverted him from his normal route.

My boss can never get to sleep at night on Sundays, because Jeff 'parks' outside his flat with the generator running on his freezer unit (i.e. making a low, growly noise with his throat) ready for the supermarket run on Monday morning.

He also once had a right pop at my Dad for parking in his space outside Curry's. Pa didn't want to end up as a flesh wedding dress, so grudgingly moved his motor and watched as Jeff reversed - beeping all the way - into the space.

Tales of the bald lady who rearanges the chairs in my local whilst nursing a pint bottle of rank, sour milk - and the Ginger mute feller on a bike who spends his entire waking life helping the trolley attendants at Sainsbury's are for another time. Honestly - this town is a veritable Nuttasic Park.
(Squirrel with a gun, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:09, Reply)

Re: Colonel Mustard
Jenny,

The Colonel isn't mad, he's just very, um.... individual. yes, that's it! He used to drink in my local before the landlord barred him. It may have been because he was such an utter bullshitter, putting the pub's long serving resident fantasist to shame, but it may have been because he would try and bring all his paraphernalia into the pub with him. The somewhat 'compact and Bijou' Fir Tree Tavern on Iffley road. Anyway, he just looks mad, but is definitely lucid.
The fat headphones lady who exposes herself to all and sundry is, however, the genuine article, and utterly barking.
(doctor sideburns, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:09, Reply)

Manchester
There has been talk of the Mancunian busker. When we call this guy a busker, we're being kind. His dancing and music are awful. His guitar is missing at least one string. He screams. He is not good.

The busker who can't play to save his life who changed his name to Marc Bolan

To be honest, the Manchester Evening News love his madness so much they can't stop writing about him.

Note the audio link at the bottom. Absolutely insane.

Somebody else mentioned "The Market St. Mincer" a man who just camps it up down Market Street. Here is his Gaydar page. Well, it's not his, somebody is taking the mickey, but that's the reputation he now has. He even won a local radio station's competition of Manchester's top weirdos. Fancy.
(The Mad Mr Wiggy, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:07, Reply)

Re: moo girl
"Just seen one now
A little yellow haired man has just been past me in the street having an argument with himself, shouting and spitting. Then for some reason he started bowling an imaginary cricket ball while going "cshhh cshhh cshhh"."

Is this in Standish near Wigan, if so, it's not a cricket ball he's bowling, it's a grenade.
(Fully Goyle what?, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:04, Reply)

Emily
Where do I start?

This all happened in the same summer when I was 16. Emily ended up hanging around with me and my mates (I thought she was 'normal' when I first met her). Alarm bells started ringing when she began flashing her arse at trucks/buses on the bypass bridge. She then started shouting "Thank god for the middle finger" in my ear ALL the time. Oh my god, then one day the heel broke off one of her shoes so she tried to break the other one off to make the shoes 'even' which didnt work, so she threw them both into the canal and said "it's ok, I was born in a gypsy camp in Australia and I'm used to walking in bare feet"(She was born in the local hospital).

The best Emily story is when she broke into her father's warehouse with my mate to mess around on the forklift and when the battery ran out, instead of leaving the biulding like nothing had happened, she poured fuel all over the forklift and set it alight(!). Luckily the fire brigade turned up before the whole building went up. Daft cow.
(Bowling_for_Maybelline I know a Malteser when I hear it, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:04, Reply)

EE-EE girl
So many oddballs used to come in the shop we owned that we created a set of top trumps based on them. My fave was:
EE-EE girl - very red faced girl who used to terrorise the street for years squealing randomly "eeeeeeeeeeeeeee" "eeeeeeeeeeee" farting, telling rude jokes that didnt make sense and taping people and herself on her dictophone. Also had an invisible friend named iris who she used to fall out with often. One particular memory i have is of her shouting at some frail old lady " BABIES COME FROM WOMAN'S PUSSYS DON'T THEY!"
(the_snakes, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:04, Reply)

In Dartford...
...we had our fair share of nutters. There was a man nicknamed the Crayford Doodah who had a really long beard, was bald and skinny as a rake. He used to ride around town on his bicycle and God help you if you made eye contact with him. Even a sideways glance caused him to stop and hurl a barrage of expletives at you, which would continue until you disappeared from his view. There was also a fairly young woman who had an imaginary child who used to hang around by the bus stops, getting an incredible amount of abuse from school kids. She used to walk a short way then stop, turn around and call for her 'child' to hurry up, beckoning him or her with her hand held out. Tragic really. There was always a steady supply of tramp fights / drownings / torchings in Dartford park.
(Bimdian, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:03, Reply)

Shitting hell
I was just about to post about the man who walks around didsbury village, manchester with a pet bunny that he talks to, but "dogger collymore" beat me to it!

wow, small world...

and hello mr collymore
( Naive Amoeba Bored Cig, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:02, Reply)

Pools
Where I'm a barmaid, every day this guy bursts in the door and shouts "I'VE WON THE POOLS!", punching the air with his fists and grinning manically.

It dawned on me that he wasn't all there when I walked off to use the till and he started shouting "I'VE WON THE POOLS!" to a basket of salt-and-vinegar crisps, and explaining to them in great detail how he was going to collect his prize. Then he told the fag machine the same thing. Then he waltzed out the door with a manically happy expression on his face.

According to the landlady he's done that every day for the past 8 years.
(feckless student, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:00, Reply)

The bloke who lives oppersite me...
...loves nothing more than to serenaded the whole street, by singing along to his favourite show tunes, using only one vocal note. (B Flat diminished, I believe it is) It doesn't matter what the tune is, he will blast it out in his uniquely mono toned way, pausing only briefly to gulp for air.
How we love him.
(Phalanges-Phil, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 15:56, Reply)

Winchesters "Hiawatha" Woman
Dressed like an American Indian.
Shouted obcenities at all and sundry like "I will have your c0ck in my cornflakes!"

Last seen by me jumping on the bonnet of some chavs car while he was stopped a a T-junction, pointing her fingers like a gun and screaming at the irate guy to "Step out of the car! I am from the FBI"

MMmmmm. Fruity cake.
(uwantfries, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 15:48, Reply)

Oxford
would definitely be a serious contender for the maddest town in Britain. Due to some kind of uber-lax security policy at the Cowley lunatic asylum you can't walk down a street in the city centre without running into some nutjob swearing at the sky or trying to bite the pigeons.

One of the many local legends is the old guy who calls himself Colonel Mustard and is usually to be found "tap-dancing" (shuffling from foot to foot) on Cornmarket with a tiny stereo and a huge top hat covered in flowers, occasionally screaming swearwords at small children.
He's even had a sign made. With a poster of himself on it.
Also amongst the regulars are the woman with a big stereo who regularly flashes her arse at buses and the middle-aged man (an ex-tutor according to local legend) who sings show tunes along the riverbank.
(jennymnemonic, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 15:48, Reply)

Blacksburg, Virginia's crazy old guy
It's rumored that the guy has a twin who teaches somewhere at the university, but the guy I've seen just wanders around talking to himself and gesturing like he's talking to someone else. Sometimes he just randomly shouts at people and calls them racial slurs for other races or says he wants to kill everyone.
(thppp, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 15:40, Reply)

...and another one.
This time, it's Blackpool, where I spent 3 drug-addled years, quite some time ago, pretending to be a photography student.

Local fruitcake there was Mr Backwards. He looked like an ordinary fella, and most of the time, he was, but occasionally, he would feel the need to do something outrageous and silly, like, ohI don't know, go into a shop....

BACKWARDS

...which he would do at a running pace.
That's it, just sauntering down the street, normal as you like, and then, he'd give the scene a quick left-right glance, presumably to make sure no-one was watching, and then like a flash, spin on his heel, and run at full tilt backwards into a shop.
He would exit the shop in pretty much the same way, until he was out on the pavement or the broad pedestrianised bit in the middle of Blacky, which is probably called Church St, and then he'd carry on, as if nothing had happened.

Does any one know if he's still about?
(doctor sideburns, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 15:40, Reply)

The bin man
Every town has its own "Bin-man" or "Bin-lady". My town seems to have more; as we even have a local one.

Ever since i was young i can remember cycling/walking to the corner shop near to my house. Obviously, outside a parade of shops there will be one or two bins provided to put rubbish in. Anyway, this bloke who owns a huge volvo estate car visits the bins, and empties them into his car. I don't believe, in ten years of memory of this man, that i have ever seen him in a different change of clothes.

But, the scariest things are his kids. Blimey. I think they're beginning to follow in the family business as i see more and more of these trampy looking people rummage through the bins...

/lurks
( Goon, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 15:37, Reply)

The old man with no name
There's an old man in Loughborough with no name, who has tourettes. He cheerfully wanders through town shouthing: "Hello, pissshitwanker". Such a lovely chap, my mum bought him a coffee once.
And the xylophone man.... oh how I loved him. I gave him many a pound coin whilst out in Nottingham.
( wanky art student is liable to phwoar at any minute, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 15:36, Reply)

Just seen one now
A little yellow haired man has just been past me in the street having an argument with himself, shouting and spitting. Then for some reason he started bowling an imaginary cricket ball while going "cshhh cshhh cshhh".
(moo_girl, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 15:35, Reply)

Just plain crazy guy.
Looks like a cross between iggy pop and kurt cobain and see him walking around Edinburgh's old town. Usually topless, even in the freezing cold. The first time I saw him he was in a graveyard on Princes Street kneeling in front of a grave whipping his back with his belt. I saw him again and he was throwing the contents of a bin on a passer by.

Do obviously mentally disabled people count? There's a Mental Home place in Morningside in Edinburgh so you see plenty there. People talking casually about the weather to absolutely nothing, that kind of thing.

A woman I see often in that area looks about 40 was reading cartoon network magazine on the bus and I just couldn't stop laughing when she tried to eat the free lollypop with the wrapper still on.

Does anyone from that area remember toungeman? I miss him.
(davey_binbag, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 15:35, Reply)

one at uni
at uni, we have the weirdest tutor. She's a temp in the Latin department, known as mad rabbit woman for several good reasons. She had a flat near our uni but sold it to buy a plot of land in scotland to grow xmas trees on... so now she lives in a van. no shower or anything, just sleeps in the van at night. also she has a rabbit (originally named bunny) who sleeps in the van with her and who she takes into work... mad enough?
( nononononoyes, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 15:33, Reply)