My Grandma loudly & proudly sang...
... a full rendition of 'Ching Chong Chinaman' in a Thai restaurant once.

What made it more jaw-droppingly horrifying is she timed her performance to reach a shrill crescendo as our food was served.
(microsaulxp, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 14:00, Reply)

Knowing that I'd got a keyboard for my 10th birthday
My gran spotted the ideal birthday card for me - it had a cartoon of somebody playing the keyboard on it.

She obviously hadn't read the inscription on the front though.

"Happy birthday! Tonight we could make beautiful music together, just you and me... and your organ."

*shudders*
(albatross! aka Rameses Niblick III Kerplunk kerplunk - whoops, where's my thribble?, Fri 12 Mar 2004, 6:14, Reply)

my nan was classic
she used to call me clifford (my name's ben), she swore black's blue that she'd met Miss Marple in the flesh (when I said that she was a fictional character, she shouted at me with "How can she be fictional if I've shook her f**king hand!!"). She also thought Angela Lansbury was Agatha Christie.
The best one was when we went out for a drive through the west end and there was a plane flying above us.
"see that red light flashing at the bottom of the plane?" she said.
"yes Nan"
"That's the Russians taking pictures!" brilliant!
(beneneuman, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 14:18, Reply)

Flying Custard and Sausage Trees.
Whenever I went for a visit, my grandad would go out at night with a bowl of custard and fling it over EVERYTHING. The trees, the cars, the windows, even the chickens. When I woke up, he'd tell me that the flying custard had been around again, searching for a mate. He would do this every night, and leave the empty bowl in the sink with his custardy fingerprints all over it.

Then one day he started shouting about how he'd had a revelation. I followed him outside and found him tying sausages to a small tree with string. He said it would make the world "never hungry again."
( Digeridude Lord Wellington's Beef Trapeze, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 17:49, Reply)

When my 87 year old Grandfather was in hospital
my mum and I went to visit. We were doing the general non-versation that always takes place when, out of nowhere my Grandad asked if my dad was "still a wanker?"
(monkeyjam, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 16:14, Reply)

My Grandmother. Mother's side. Barmy.
1) Favourite song?

"Makes no sense/Sitting on a fence/All by yourself in the moonlight.../Aint it a farce/Sittin' on yer---"
My grandad would permit no further progress.
No, I've never seen a commercial release for that song either. Shame.

She would also break into a chorus of "Ever seen a bird shit a turd/and he can't get his traaaaahsers daaahn" for no apparent reason.

2) Favourite maxim?

"You don't look at the mantlepiece when you're poking the fire"

3) Best odd moment...

Grandma: You courting yet?
Little Sister: No.
Grandma: I'm not surprised: you ain't got very big tits.
Little Sister went into catatonic trance for several minutes.

4) Grandma's wisdom.

On noting that my mother was trying to learn French:
"Can't beat your own language, can you?"
Actually, she had a point there.

5) I shouldn't laugh, but...

She once spent several weeks mistaking plastic stapled for extra insulation onto the inside of the wooden window frame for fog. She remarked how quickly it had cleared up when she got downstairs. Every day. For a month.

6) Just puzzling.

In her later years, she used to introduce me to her friends in Bourne as "Doug. Brian's son." For the record, I'm neither, although there's an element of truth there. Bless.

7) Grandma's greatest achievement

She told ghost stories to my sister when she went to stay with her and scared her half to death. That woman grew up and raised a b3tan. I feel there is a connection.

Ajtag, we salute you.
( sp3ccylad carries on breathing all the way up to, say, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 22:32, Reply)

oh man
ive got a million of these. i work for social services. visiting one old woman, she insisted she told us about her deceased constipated husband
'i used to help him go by digging it out with a spoon... but i kept the spoon separate from the others'
(benito vaselini no not that one, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 17:47, Reply)

Old People and Jokes
When old people try and tell a joke, it always goes wrong - with unpredicatable and hilarious results.

Here is a genuine joke, that was told to me by a lovely old lady in a charity shop:-

Knock Knock
Who's there?
Men in Black
Men in Black who?
Lady in Red.

Is there something I'm missing? Am I just too foolish to understand?
(Market Man, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 14:56, Reply)

Working in a mad people's home once
one of the inmates patients reached 100. Quite an achievement (particularly as she'd been clinically batty for a good 80 of them). So all day people are saying "oo 100 years old" and eventually this must have clicked in one of her few remaining faculties. So for the next several days she would stop anybody who came near her and say "I'm 100 you know". Until it became really quite tedious and people started going "uhuh ... really". Not to be put off, she started upping the stakes "I'm 101 you know", "I'm 106 you know". Finally, some of her children or grandchildren came to visit, to be greeted with "I'm a thousand years old you know". The "don't laugh at the mad people" rule was broken by all staff within earshot.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 14:15, Reply)

My Yorkshire thru-and-thru Grandad would ban the following from pubs:
"Television, except for sport" (Good point).

"Very loud music, it's good to talk." (Fair.)

"Jukeboxes" (Not sure.)

"Pool tables" (Eh?)

"Cooked food." (No Sunday roasts???)

"Women." (!!!!!)

I asked "But Grandad, why even go to the pub?"

Having gone too far, but refusing to back-track, he simply looked to the horizon of his mind and said...

"I don't know lad, I don't know."
(microsaulxp, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 13:52, Reply)

Oh to have been there
A few years ago my Granny offered to buy me some perfume for Christmas and asked me what I wanted. I said 'Eternity'.

She spent a whole afternoon looking but gave up because nowhere sold it.

Apparently, she'd gone in every chemists in town demanding they sell her Ecstasy, which she wanted to give to her teenage grand-daughter.

She's a formidable woman, my granny, and she said she shouted at one "gormless shop-girl" who seemed to find this amusing...
(EllyBaby, Fri 12 Mar 2004, 11:06, Reply)

Deaf Gran loves cranberries
My dear old grandmother, being more catholic than the pope, refused to ever utter a curse. On many occasions she has been know to utter "Ye Gods and little fishes" or the clasic "Dime bar" when she smashed her crystal glass collection. Bless her heart, she recently went deaf and I have managed to persuade her to use the expletive "Cranberies" when reffering to hee useless postman. Eg
Postman: Could you sign for this please
Her: "Certainly not, you cranberry"

Always amusing ;)
(reasonablyfamous, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 15:33, Reply)

When I was off to work in France
I visited my gran to say goodbye. As I left she warned me to 'watch out for the wogs'.
(Choaderboy, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 13:53, Reply)

A
truly ancient female friend of the family used to join us for Xmas dinner every year, until what we have come to know as 'THE INCIDENT'.

It was obvious she was going off the rails quite early in the day, when she explained to my mum that she didn't want any turkey because her hairdresser had, earlier in the week, attempted to kill her by means of some unduly agitated brushing. She had since spoken to a doctor, she continued, who had explained that this vicious attack had given her water on the brain and, as a result, she should never eat poultry ever again. Obviously.

So we indulged her, but she got more and more peculiar as the day wore on. Things reached a peak, I feel, at about the point where she explained that the RAF were carrying out some form of black magic rituals in her garden, as proved by the small group of minuscule people, about six inches high, who had taken up residence on her windowsill.

By this stage she had clearly had one sherry too many - one sherry, in this case - as her next action, as we sat staring at each other and our shoes in a slightly awkward manner, was to shit herself and then panic quite badly. And let me tell you, there can't be much that puts more of a damper on your christmas evening than a demented and severely agitated old person shambling around the living room caked in shit.
(Wong Fei-Hung - now with added flickr.com (see profile), Fri 12 Mar 2004, 12:19, Reply)

Why?
My grandad still insists on giving me a pound coin everytime I go to visit him even though I'm 23. I've started putting them back in his coat pocket when he goes to to the toilet.
( andy206, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 17:23, Reply)

Bit of a long one.
My Grandad was at Dunkirk. He told all eight of his grandchildren of that day and he would raise his left hand, show the stump of his little finger and say "I lost that in machinery, trying to help an injured colleague onto the boat". We all sat in awe, looking at the sacrifice our gallant grandfather had made.

The first Xmas after his death, my Grandma understandably got a bit maudlin on the sherry. We started talking about the old guy, and I mentioned his "war injury". My father and grandmother looked puzzled and asked what I was talking about. It turned out, he had a genetic condition that causes the little finger to curl in, reducing your hand to a claw. To prevent this happening, he had his finger lopped off in 1972. The lying git.

Even better, I'm getting the same thing with my finger now. Can't wait to regale the kids with the story of how I lost it pulling Saddam out of a hole.
( Rev. A-MOL is lurking around these parts again, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 14:01, Reply)

Mad old people
We had this mad old lesbian, brain warped from years of sapphic desires, down our road when we were kids who hated children playing in the street outside her house.

She'd come out the front whenever we were there, waving a broom, an umbrella, or on one memorable occasion, something that resembled a 14 inch Monster Kong vibrator, threatening us will all kinds of trouble if we didn't clear off pretty sharpish.

"I'll have you all sent to the orphanage"

"I'll have your dog poisoned"

"A spell in the Hitler Youth will do you good"

"I've got a gun and I'm not afraid to use it"

"I've got a friend who's a judge and he'll have your parents sent to prison, you mark my words"

The fruitcake.

Revenge. We put a dog turd in a paper bag, set fire to it and left it on her doorstep, and watched in fits of laughter as she stamped out the flames.

She told our parents, who congratulated us on our efforts.

_________________________

Choaderboy's effort reminds me of my late great aunt. She invited herself to stay, and while we were watching Top of the Pops one Thursday evening, you could see she was fit to explode.

After watching an entire programme of punx, metallists and weirdoes, her only comment was one of disgust at OMD: "He's got his shirt tails hanging out!"

We thought she'd finished, but as the end credits rolled, she trumped this with the immortal "There's far too many darkies on television these days."

She's dead and my brother got her car.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 13:59, Reply)

she doesn't know any better
Christmas before last, my dark, handsome boyfriend was with us. He's part Spanish, Finnish, Russian, and damn hot. But dark.

My parents have this massive kitchen that amplifies a whisper around the house. Boyfriend's on the sofa reading next door, Gran's in kitchen beside Mum doing the washing up, I'm making tea.

Gran turns to mum and says "he's very nice, but is he an *INDIAN*?"

Thud sound in distance as gorgeous man falls off sofa in silent hysterics.

She also tells Brummie waiters in Chinese restaurants their English is very good. And she's recently started saying that black people (we trained her to stop using the 'n' word, thank god) make very good carers because "they had all that slave training".

Oh, and my bru and I once got into a huge arguement with her when we were kids because she told us dinosaurs were god's way of confusing evil people.

And that science is WRONG.

94 and still going...
(niceandwarmandhot vive la résistance, Fri 12 Mar 2004, 11:16, Reply)

friends gran
as well all sat digesting christmas dinner blurted out

"If I'd known about oral sex before I got married, I'd have never gotten married"

My own gran used to call the porta-a-loo in our caravan the 'Chemi-khazi'. which is genious
(lankygingerfool, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 23:03, Reply)

My dear old Gran
didn't get a colour TV until the mid 80's. She believed the technology hadn't been perfected and the colour could be *dangerous*.
(BeAst - did it wrong on:, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 13:55, Reply)

Whenever my grandma
learned that someone had died -- a celebrity she liked, a neighbour, a relative, etc -- she would always say,
"He sure made good doughnuts."
(norumbegan, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 13:51, Reply)

My Gran (RIP)...
was always sad that she couldn't have any great grandchildren. Brother's girlfriend is Chinese, mine is Indian...
"Poor boys can't have any kids because they'd look too funny..."
( pattwat, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 13:50, Reply)

My granda's a fantastic bloke
but I'll never forget the time we were out camping and he pointed to the sky, with a look of admiration in his face, as if he were about to make some poignant comment about existence (he trained as a priest), and all he said was, "That cloud looks like a penis. Look, it's a big cock in the sky *sigh*".
( Pretender, Fri 12 Mar 2004, 17:46, Reply)

ROW LOCKS
My godmother who has always been a tad touched.
got a fright one day as her husband took a bad "turn" and collapsed. she phoned round about 5 of her friends telling them all "john's deid" (she's scottish) b4 phoning the ambulance. when the ambuance arrived and he'd recovered, she phoned them all back saying "he's a wee bit better now"
(montyzuma, Fri 12 Mar 2004, 10:39, Reply)

My great grandma
was blind, and a racist!
My mum told her that I was black to get her to shut up about it. She died when she was about 90, in her will she left the 'nigro' kid 25 cents to get a gum ball.

My grandma also talked about her trip to vegas.... she actually went to Denver....
:-I
(Werdmaster, Fri 12 Mar 2004, 7:01, Reply)

Aunty Mary
...used to drive a truck for Corona (the soft drinks company, not the beer people) just after 'ver worwah' as she'd say.

Over a bumpy road, the corks would start to pop out of the bottles and clonk against the back of the cab so mary would speed up, assuming she was being shot to bits by 'germs in hairyplanes' (who had already given up a few years earlier and were never really interested in Poole anyway). Needless to say, the popping of the corks got faster as she floored it and faster still as she started to panic. By the time she hit the police car she was convinced that 'It' had all started again and demanded that the whiplashed constable 'called for the AWP before somebody got killed'...
(tommykneecaps, Fri 12 Mar 2004, 2:36, Reply)

ahh my nanny...
I call my mum's mum Nanny. She's crazy, not in the senile sence, just a crackerjack like her dad was who died when my mum was little (ill talk about him later). Shes really cool too. Its what she does thats more crazy than what she says but heres a couple of speach related ones anyway...

One day we decided to go to chester zoo and she kept saying "i want to see the penguins! I want to see the penguins I WANT TO SEE THE PENGUINS!" happily untill we saw them. "Their not propper penguins, where are they hiding them?" Theye wernt Emporour ones...
The same day we went into the bat cave, then as we were nearing the exit we realised that nan was missing... she'd gone of folowing and talking to another family thinking they were us.

When I was a baby, my Nanny had to return to liverpool by train from london. Now my nanny is well brought up and always wears smart clothes even though shes a bit dotty (in the nice way). So when this young bloke with ripped jeans and long hair comes up and grabs one of her bags shes not happy. He asked her if she was going to liverpool and then he said he'd help her with her bags. They talk on the train where he says that hes in a band, pointing out its name embroided on his shirt. when the train stops, she pats him on the sholder thanking him and says "i hope you do really well" not believing it. She refuses a lift in his big car cause Grandda was their to pick her up.
A few weeks later when watching tv "thats him thats him!"...it was Phil Collins!
( Blobcat Less Jaffacakes this year, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 18:56, Reply)

My gran is severely wrong in the head.
Whenever I see her I get exactly the same list of happenings about the family, some of which happened a full three years ago. All told as if this is brand news.

She used to get her words wrong in a Mrs. Malaprop manner. Hence several years ago, she reliably informed me that Princess Diana had that 'bull mania'.

Another one that she trotted out was that some people had been doing that 'Budgie jumping' in the town centre and opined that it was extremely dangerous.

I couldn't resist it - poker faced, I said it wasn't as bad as parrot gliding.
(_(_(_(_(_(_(_(_(_ =o.o=, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 18:15, Reply)

Granny
My great granny is dead now thank fuck. Miserable whispy chinned, piss ridden, stinkin, moaning old cunt. Still, the money came in handy.
(Mapper, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 17:27, Reply)

My gran
My mad Irish grandmother is a family legend.

There are too many classics to go into here, but here's a few for your consideration.

If she sees a bird or animal washing itself, she'll say it's pruning itself. (I think she may mean "preening", but knowing her as I do I can't be 100% sure.)

She once sent me a "deepest sympathy" card for my birthday. When challenged about it, she said she "liked the flower on the front". That's all right then...

My stepdad, god bless his long suffering heart, was giving her a lift into town one day. So there he is, tootling along, with her sitting in the passenger seat making her usual inane comments. Suddenly she clutches his arm and screams "watch out John, there's a bus coming!" Stepdad nearly drives into a lamppost. Turns out there was indeed a bus coming...it was pulling into a bus stop ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE FUCKING ROAD.

And finally; one Christmas, the family are sitting around the table eating the usual Christmas din dins. Mad Gran is rambling on as per, and everyone is more or less ignoring her - as per. Suddenly she starts yapping on about an actress..."you know that woman... that woman....you know her...yes you do..." etc for about 15 minutes. My exasperated mother eventually said "no, mother, I have no idea who you're talking about." Mad Gran falls silent for a couple of minutes. Then she says "I remember her name! It's Facility Kendall!"

My sister and I nearly wet ourselves laughing.

It concerns us both that we have inherited genetic information from this woman....
(pideypuss, Thu 11 Mar 2004, 16:47, Reply)