The Weird Kid In ClassThere was a kid in my class who stood up every day and told everyone he had new shoes. This went on for weeks, and we all thought him nuts. Then, one day, he stood up and told us a long story about why his family were moving to another part of the country, and how excited he was. The next thing we heard was that he'd died in a plane crash.
Let's hear about the weird kid in your class...
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Fraser has joined the Moomins., Fri 19 Jan 2007, 10:18)
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My next-door neighbour at uniIn my first year at a certain university that tends to win more than 50% of Boat Races, I was placed in a hall of residence lovingly described as "a car park surrounded by beautiful gardens". My next-door neighbour was Leo. He was a computer scientist (not weird in of itself). He had grown up on a hippy commune, wore very loud baggy tie-dye trousers, had an aversion to personal hygiene and wore his hair in three long plaits down his back. I would occasionally catch a glimpse of him peering in through my window (we had a communal balcony and everyone had patio doors) only for him to disappear the moment I turned round to look at him. He was allergic to dairy and gluten, and didn't drink alcohol.
One evening a friend of mine asked him, when the three of us were chatting in my room, what he did to relax if chocolate and alcohol were out of the question. He announced that he smoked pot, then promptly leapt out of the chair, darted back to his room, and returned with a small bag of weed and an empty drinks can, which he then started scratching at furiously with a penknife. I kicked him out of my room.
The guy returned to uni after the Christmas break with loudspeakers that could have powered a Wembley gig. He played his music so loudly that my laptop vibrated itself off my desk, and Mr Lawofnations could hear Leo's music when he was on the phone to me as loudly as if he was listening to it on his own stereo. The nights I spent being kept awake by his music (of course Leo was too stoned and playing his music too loudly to hear us banging on his door and window) have rendered me incapable of appreciating the fine tunes of Portishead.
Most distressing was the hygiene though. Our cleaner would actually have to get one of us to vouch for the fact that she'd cleaned his room, because within 24 hours it looked like it was growing mushrooms. I seriously have no idea what he did in those 24 hours.
He's a software developer now, still living in the town of our alma mater. He's probably a B3TAN. Sorry Leo, but you were a weirdo of the highest order.
(, Sat 20 Jan 2007, 23:42, Reply)
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