Derby has the biggest day release scheme for mentals in the UK.....
You can often run into them screaming at trees or smearing their own poo on windows. My fave was an old gent who for a whole day once sat in the centre of town shouting "£1.28? Not for a pint of shite I aint".
( The only Dave is pushing things forward, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 16:55, Reply)

Ages ago.....
I used to work at the top of Piccadilly Tower in Manchester. From up there you can look down upon all the other buildings and the multi-story car parks. One Saturday we saw this car race up to the very edge of one particular car park and do a really cool handbrake turn. Three blokes got out and ran round to the boot of the car and pulled some poor fellow out. They then beat the shit out of him and threatened him with guns. We we’re in awe. A mate was immediately on the phone to the Police whilst I tried my best to film as much of it on my phone as possible. Then they stopped, the guy climbed back into the boot of his own accord, they drove slowly back over to the entrance of the car park. Then 1 minute later they did the whole thing again. It turns out they were filming Life on Mars.
( The only Dave is pushing things forward, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 16:52, 3 replies)

A quick one from me.
I once had an incredibly vivid dream that Tony Slattery was my overbearing step-father.
(ConanTroutman thought we would free the vulture, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 16:06, 1 reply)

Millenium hand an' shrimp!

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 15:47, 7 replies)

Did anyone else see that?
In a previous job, I occasionally had to work on Saturday mornings. The bus journey into work was normally rather quiet as any sane person was still in bed at 7.30 a.m, so I was usually sitting on an almost empty bus whilst half asleep.

Approaching a junction just before my stop, a traffic warden signalled for the bus to stop. After sitting for 5 minutes, with no apparent reason for the delay, a man jogged accross the path of the bus in full Santa Claus outfit complete with a sack of toys. I looked around the bus to see if anyone was seeing this or if I was imagining it in my slightly hungover and sleep deprived state. The other two commuters on the bus were both staring out of the window in the opposite direction. I glanced at the driver who seemed completely unfazed by the incident. The traffic warden then waved the bus on, and I was left to believe that my brain had concocted the whole thing.

The next morning, there were pictures in the newspaper of a 'charity Santa run' which had taken place on the Saturday (I assume the guy I had witnessed was in the lead by a fair margine at the time). So it turns out that this event was not 'random' in any way. Certainly the strangest thing I've ever seen on a normally unremarkable commute though.
( greg_evigan is possibly deceased on, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 15:43, Reply)

In the town where I live
hanging by the laces from a telephone wire stretched across a busy street between one of the pubs and the Chinese, are a pair of filthy white rotting trainers.

They were put up there about 5 years ago and have been hanging there defiantly ever since. They've survived some of the worst Cumbrian weather we've ever had and yet they still remain there.

It's a better landmark than that stupid clock that sounds like a WOTW tripod.

Finally burst my b3ta bubble after 4 years of lurking :)
(Well cut jib, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 15:08, 19 replies)

This makes me chuckle. Almost every day for years.
edit: its not so much random as just a stupid thing. I don't care, i'm wacky and zany like that :/

(DreddPirateBob has watched every scifi film ever on, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 14:45, 3 replies)

So why did the chicken cross the road?
I spotted this while wandering the streets of Helsinki. I was so busy taking the picture I forgot to ask him, "WHY?, Why are you doing it?"


(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 14:28, 2 replies)

'Laura smells like Carnlough harbour'
written on a wall near a mates house, near no other graffiti. Always makes me laugh.
( Bamboo Steamer, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 14:02, Reply)

I was in the New Forest over the bank holiday
and went to look at the Rufus stone, which marks the spot where in 1100 king William Rufus was accidentally killed by a mate when he fired an arrow at a stag which missed its target, rebounded off a tree and hit the monarch. Someone has written "I *heart* hunting accidents" on the stone.
(twattybanjo, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 12:26, 6 replies)

random dream
i once had a dream that ron atkinson was sucking on a big fat cigar and when i woke up it was my son sucking on his dummy near my ear.
(baltimora, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 12:04, 2 replies)

Rory McGrath
I had a strange dream that Rory McGrath told me off for writing graffiti on the side of his house. The next morning as I was walking along the sea front in Brighton I had to move out of the way of Rory McGrath. Three things make this really rather odd:

1) I've not dreamt of Rory before or since
2) I've not seen Rory before or since
3) Neither of us live in Brighton, I was only there on a conference.
(larrymullensnr, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 11:50, 4 replies)

Mr Popular
A party of about 10 of us went to Hamster Jam for a weekend of hijinx and mischief.

We arrived, got to the flat, briefed ourselves and headed out.

Within a few minutes we were walking down a busy street.

"Vagabond!" cried a female voice. Well - there were no doubt tens of Vagabonds in the vicinity at that juncture.

"A Vagabond!" cried now several female voices - so - very probably definitely me.

Turns out it was three girls I'd worked with in London about three years previously - they were sitting outside a cafe having a coffee.

I wandered over, chatted to them, made them laugh, and then returned to my group, looking like the absolute fucking Don.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 11:50, Reply)

What are the odds?
Britain has a population of about 60,003,000.

Let's assume a low average of 1 dream per person per night, and that each dream features a low average of 1 British person.

This would mean that a British person would appear in a mean average of 1 British dream per night.

Life expectancy in Britain is 79.4 years, or 29000 days.

Thus an average of 60,003,000 / 29,000 = 2069 British people die every day.

If each British person appears in a mean average of 1 British dream per night, that would mean that on an average night, the people who died that day appear in a total of 2069 British dreams.

In other words there should be over 2000 prophetic dreams of death every night.

The figure would be higher if the person didn't have to die that very day for the dream to count as prophetic, or if you tended to think of people more when they're sick.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 11:38, 13 replies)

I live in a small place in the Pennines where a well-known comedy series was set
The post office queue is the most interesting one I've ever stood in. Health and safety laws do not apply, here. The butchers do sell special stuff from under the counter. String is the preferred choice of means to hold up trousers. We have the best selection of mullets in Britain.

I've never seen a chain-smoking transexual taxi driver, though. You have to go to Sheffield for that.
(IHateSprouts is baking a huge pie shaped like an enormous pie, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 11:23, 3 replies)

The misty peatbog of Bleaklow
On day 1 of walking the Pennine way from the Peak district up to Scotland I had started to traverse Bleaklow. I was already feeling knackered and realising I may have underestimated what I had let myself in for. I was getting soaked, walking through squelching peat bog in thick mist and driving rain, a good few miles from anywhere when I came across a 12 inch pink dildo sitting on a sodden tussock of cottongrass.

Certainly most unexpected.
( Herman Blume is unique, just like everyone else, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 10:40, 10 replies)

Posted this before..but
but it wasn't relevant at the time:

Wes and the Vegas laundrette

Laundry in Vegas is tricky because all the hotels want to charge you $3 to wash a pair of socks and so do all they can to allow laundromats to flourish. Our plan was to visit an outlet mall out of town and on the way drop off our washing. In a hugely seedy neighbourhood after walking around with big neon signs saying 'Lost tourists please rob us' we finally found our laundromat.

The owner was on duty - a big friendly black man called Wes who said he would take care of everything for us for a total of $2.75 and we could come back at six pm to collect. He even took us outside to show us how to get back to the laundrette. Being from Scotland I was instantly suspicious of why he was being so damn nice. I asked for some kind of receipt for the clothes but he didnt have anything but said everything would be ok. I left the shop with my rip-of radar still beeping away loudly. We got a taxi to an outlet mall and all the way there I was kicking myself and running through all the scenarios of how Wes was going to rip us off - steal our clothes, arrange for us to be mugged at 6pm, charge extra when we got back etc etc etc.

Our shopping trip over we had to come up with a plan to ensure our safety when visiting Wes's laundromat now that it was dark. The missus had all her jewellery on, loads of shopping and I was not keen that she came with me to pick up the laundry. I decided to leave her with all her valuables (and mine) at the Stratosphere Casino and walk the half an hour to the laundromat. I set off in the dark, crapping myself but made it to the door, which was locked. 'Oh here we go i thought. But from behind the counter popped Wes and he opened up the shop.
'You're early' he said.
'I always try to be' I replied light-heartedly, hiding my true intention to avoid the mass ranks of muggers he had probably lined up for my return at 6pm.
'You look cold.' said Wes
"I am alright, I'm from Scotland' I said, fulfilling a stereotype.
To my surprise Wes pulled out a little heater plugged it in and said 'Warm yourself up with this while I finish folding your clothes.'

I was humbled. All the time I had him down as a conman but really he was just scraping a living and being a lovely human being. I felt ashamed at the malice I had felt towards him.

'So you're from Scotland?' said Wes as he folded my boxers. 'I visit there often'
'Really?' I sounded surprised because I figured that he wouldnt be able to afford many trans-atlantic trips if he was only charging $2 per wash. ' Where abouts do you visit?'
'Oh all over' he said.
It was with his very next sentence I realised why Wes was being so nice.
'But I tend to only visit during the time of King James'
Wes was so nice because he was certifiably insane. Batshiat insane.

What followed (whilst my jaw continued to descend to the floor) was a tale so intricate and bizarre that I have trouble retelling it but basically Wes is part of a 'bird-tribe' of 3 men called talismen who use timepieces to travel through time and influence religion. They are waiting for a sign from Ugly Betty star (Amerika Ferrera) to re establish the Portugese Black Royal family and bring the true DaVinci Codes to the world. Wes exists on the Belarus-Minerva timeline and his interest in King James is because he edited a lot of stuff out of the bible that confirms his story. The two other Talismen are musicians and Wes is supposed to be learning the bagpipes to blend in. All the secrets to this can be gleaned from the film 'Flight of The Condor' starring Robert Redford where if you look closely it isn't seven people that died but 49. Apparently that is important.
I am not making this up. In fact this is an edited down linear version. Wes was slightly more erratic in his story telling.
He folded our laundry beautifully and showed me to the door. I gave him $5 for his trouble and as I left he told me to watch out for his grandmother who belonged to the 'Femme nikita' tribe and was a trained assasin but he would watch over me when he goes back to Scotland.'

I made the half hour walk back to the casino in about 5 minutes and breathlessly tried to retell the story to the other half. It didnt make sense when I told it either.

Something else that didn't make sense was all the effort to save a bit of cash by going to a launderette was entirely in vain, as the missus spent a fortune on the slots whilst I was away. Cest la vie.

(No apologies for length, girth or early finish)
( BadBadman saw an incorrect comma placement on, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 10:37, 1 reply)

I bumped into Death
relaxing at the top of Snowdon. Does that count as random?


( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 10:27, 5 replies)

Quantum tunnelling?
One fine morning the GF and I get into her car. Unusually, the car doesn't seem to want to start. So I get out and go around to the front to have a quick look for obvious problems.

OK, so I wasn't expecting it to be THAT obvious: the distributor's rotor arm had been removed and placed on the bonnet [hood].

I like to think that an impromptu car maintenance class broke out on the way home from a pub the night before. Or, perhaps all the molecules in the distributor arm simply quantum tunnelled about 20cm vertically upwards. One of those two, anyway.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 10:17, 2 replies)

As we travelled through the experience
it became clear that no quarter could possibly be influenced by what was increasingly going to be referred to as "the incident", despite it's having been washed down, dusted, polished, and - to a certain extent - revolutionised.

No matter, however, as due to the preceeding circumstantial instability, various descriptions of morally-dubious connections within the established time-line had been shown to be completely false, thereby belying the implicit "poseur" factor inherent in such accusations as had been thrown throughout the decade. Willfully, it was concluded that through no fault of underlying entrapments, there could be no possible direction other than the aforementioned, and thus we were to find ourselves here. Right now.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 9:36, Reply)

A169 towards Whitby
This weekend I spotted a nicely planted christmas tree replete with tinsel on the verge of the A169. It even had "presents" stacked around it's base.

Made me grin but I suspect it was merely creative fly tipping.

Located in "Yarkshire" I also suspect many locals have attended said tree to rattle the presents just in case.
( Signify, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 8:55, 1 reply)

Midnight Chicken
Spotted Sunday night, on the side of the A6, near Bamber Bridge about 12 midnight while walking home. No labels except for a tag: "Oven Ready Chickens". No idea who they were destined for or where they were from. Click to embiggen.






(lunus loves tizer, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 8:52, Reply)

A pair of hot pink pumps lying beside the road.
It would have been odder if they were neatly side by side, but it looked as if she'd just thrown her shoes out the window.
(uncle_bud is not the jelly roll king., Tue 26 Apr 2011, 1:38, Reply)

Leeds Graffiti
IT IS THE FACE WISH HOW
( Sculpture of Man Putting a banging donk on it since, Tue 26 Apr 2011, 0:47, 7 replies)

A familiar face, just at the right time.....
A few years ago I went to work at a summer camp in America for the second time. When I landed in new York I made my way to a youth hostel I stayed in last time. On my way there I met a guy who said he wanted to give a lot of money to charity because he was from South Africa and couldn't take the money home. Normally I wouldn't fall for this but for some reason after an 8 hour flight I was not really in the right frame of mind. I knew he was talking bollocks but I was unable to actually do anything about it, it was quite surreal watching events unfold but having no control. As you might guess it turned out to be a scam and I ended up losing $100. Could have been worse, I was able to keep my bus money and my hostel money, so it was just extra spending money. Something I could have used but not the end of the world.

So after all this was over I went to the hostel and felt a bit down being in a strange place and falling for an obvious scam. So I decided to go into the courtyard for a smoke. There were a few people out there but I was in no mood to meet people. But then I saw a face across the courtyard I recognized, an old colleague from work. Surely it couldn't be, as far as I was aware this person was back in Bradford. The more I looked the more I was convinced it was this person. Then she started to give me the same look of "surely not.....". I went over and sure enough it was someone I used to work with, apparently she had taken a few weeks off to travel the states and we happened to be at the same hostel at the same time. From there my night got better and she introduced me to some people she had met and we had a good night, I almost forgot about losing my money.
( bobzarkoff, Mon 25 Apr 2011, 23:47, Reply)

Curly
there used to be a very peculiar bloke who lived near to my mum's house.
Curly, for that was his name, would wander the streets in all weathers, wearing shorts and a shirt with no buttons, gaping open for all to gawp at his skinny white pigeon chest. Curly's favourite thing to do was to wander over to complete strangers and make loud whirring noises through his clenched teeth, before repeatedly thumping his chest and shouting "THE ONE!"
haven't seen him about for a few years. if i remember rightly, he and his friend were attacked by smackheads in his friend's house. his friend unfortunately died from the attack and Curly was almost killed himself.
not surprising he hasn't been around much, really.
sorry, rambled a bit there.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Mon 25 Apr 2011, 23:16, Reply)

Brighton, Sussex
Whilst on the first date with my now wife, we were walking down Western Road from Hove towards Brighton itself.
She was telling me a bit about Brighton and how it definitely has some odd characters in it. I have lived in a few places and knew that most cities had people like that so didn't give it too much thought.

Not 60 seconds later we passed him.

He was very scruffy looking, with greasy unkempt hair down to the upper part of his back. A large beard that was long rather that wide. He must have been wearing at least 7 or 8 layers of shirts/coats of which 2 or 3 were long covering up his trousers (couldn't tell you if there were more than the 1 pair though)

The clincher, though, was the 9 foot solid wood crucifix he was dragging over his shoulder.

After we had past him, I looked at the (now) wife and got one of those "I told you so" looks that I have grown to love/hate/ignore.

(BTW, I know it's Easter and this sounds made up, but it ain't!)
(FUXTIX Not my words, Carol, Mon 25 Apr 2011, 21:24, Reply)

Random item...
..spotted on the central reservation* of the M25**

img39.imageshack.us/i/n5369005766677228625.jpg/

* (US) median
** London orbital motorway/freeway
(FUXTIX Not my words, Carol, Mon 25 Apr 2011, 21:13, 2 replies)