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)
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)
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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.
( , Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:03, Reply)
...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.
( , Thu 16 Sep 2004, 16:03, Reply)
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