You know the ones. Not the axe murderers/serial rapists. But The gifts that the care in the community programme has delivered onto our city streets. The ones that brighten up all our lives with their white-lightning fuelled eccentric behavior
We’ve had this thread before a while back. I thought it was worth revisiting as ‘Woman who shouts at buses’ has been superceded.
My new favourite nutter stands on Oxford Road and brightens up everyones morning by loudly singing a full repertoire of Christmas carols, as the June sun/rain beats down on his baldy head. All dressed in red too. Bless him
Or possibly the umbrella woman in my home town of Grayshott. She walked everywhere in the middle of the road with an umbrella up, crossed when she wanted to regardless of cars. Picked up litter and put it in hedges. She was a nutter.
Go up to him and say you have seen Elvis somewhere and he will run off looking for him. I think there was a facebook group trying to raise funds to send him to Nashville.
The drunk man who sings on Ecclesall Road in Sheffield. He comes and sits next to you when you’re waiting for the bus and talks about anything, and doesn’t get aggressive or argumentative.
There’s even a song about him called “Old Man Dave”
There’s a bloke round here, with the sensitive nickname of ‘Nutty Patrick’. Big, red-haired feller. Has a love of directing traffic. He’s been given a hi-vis jacket, after one or two accidents/near misses.
Harmless, and seems to enjoy life.
Bloke I’ve met, from Bradford, once stabbed a copper in the head with a pair of scissors. When asked what was going through his mind, at the time of the vicious assault, he replied ‘All I could think of, were that Bounty is the Taste of Paradise…’.
Glyn Williams Elvis a kid called Leghorn who used to ride busses up and down the valleys and sing Elvis songs. He once stole a penguin from Bristol Zoo.
I once watched the US show Cops, and some crazy seemingly drugged up guy got arrested for assaulting his mother, and the cops found his drawers full of women’s clothing and shoes – they asked him why he had it, and he explained, sounding really indignant, that ‘he was trying to create a plastic museum’.
if you ever get the pleasure of spending some time in one of a Her Majestys hotels, you will meet some ‘proper’ nutters.
2 blokes stole a body from a morgue and sat it on a bench at a busy set of traffic lights in a village called featherstone.
a well know nutter from my area was a boxer called Paul Sykes.
a book written by him is available, it is well worth reading to see some of the antics he got up to.
the bloke was a serious, scary headcase.
We used to have a bloke down here you would pretend to be driving a car, he just ran everywhere in the road, stopping at lights, hand siganls, used to get seen from Bristol to Exeter, not seen him for a good few years now, rumour had it he lost his licence.
Yesterday we passed a bloke on the outside lane of a town dual carriageway, he was riding a kids bike and clearly was missing all his screws.
Most of the town are nutters so few stand out that much…
I thought it was worth revisiting as ‘Woman who shouts at buses’ has been superceded.
Is she still doing it? I like the fact that she never gets on the bus, only stands opposite the open door yelling.
There’s a new one for me – every day I ride through the more desirable parts of Moss Side, and every day I see the same West Indian guy in his filthy fluro coat cheering on every cyclist who rides by (including me). “G’waaaaaan”.
Mate mate of mine used to work at a local cafe, (Devils punchbowl some may know it). They have a old man called Eric that goes in there everyday. About 80 with hair growing out of his ears and nose.
He is the most innocent looking guy around, and one day asked my mate Paul if he could have his phone number so he could contact him if anything happened. Paul thought it was a little odd but he seemed nice enough and gave it to him. A few minutes later the manager spoke to Paul and say Eric was gay and now had the number of every guy that has worked there over the last two years on his phone.
There’s a bloke round here called Toxic Terry who walks round with a small bottle of petrol in his pocket with a pipe attached to it, this run’s inside his coat and down his sleeve for discreet on the go sniffing. He even has his own fan club on facebook.
We were at a wedding in Germany and a sweaty looking Indian old fella walked in and took part in the photos. I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed him and if we could ask him to leave. No one batted an eyelid except for the other English guests. Turns out he shows up at every wedding and people think its amusing.
‘marigold’ the man who used to stand in the middle of the ringroad roundabouts in Norwich directing traffic wearing yellow rubber gloves.
the woman who used to dance enthusiastically inside our-price records in Canterbury.
the voodoo woman who used to haunt the northern line, her whole face painted red and with small dolls and childs shoes tied into her hair and clothing make eye contact and you die.
the nutter who appears outside in the street and shouts O.K! O.K! You Caaahnt! O.K! O.K!
people try to argue/fight with him until they realise he’s mad.
I haven’t seen him for quite a while, but the winner not a sinner man of Oxford St man used to make me smile.
And one day when I was sat on the tube, an old fella got on and immediately made his way along the carriage. He then blessed every passenger, making a sign of the cross to each of us in turn. Most amusing was the special attention he paid to two Rabbis at the end of the carriage. The older of the Rabbi was fuming. 😀
There’s a bloke who wanders up and down the A57 between Sheffield and Swallownest. No matter what time I’m going to or from work, he’s always there. He doesn’t seem to mind which direction he goes in, sometimes has a seat on the metal barriers but always has his little shoulder bag on. Don’t know what his story is, one day I’ll stop and offer him a lift.
I was going to suggest Old Man Dave too but Pook beat me to it. He’s singing along to whatever’s coming in through his headphones. It’s a shame they’re not plugged in to anything.
And then there’s this:
I don’t know his name, and although this is in a club, that’s his normal daywear (and own hair)
I have some ‘aquaintances’ who don’t live by the normal rules of society. They live in a different world to ‘normal’ people, I’m always shocked by the things that go on around them, usually instigated by them, when I am in their company. Seem a bit of a crazy bunch to me, but they are quite handy to have around if I need something sorted.
The monk walking around Bradford I remember from when I was a boy and still see him from time to time walking thru Bingley, he doesn’t appear to have aged in 30yrs. I’m also convinced his source of high amusement is when he gives a cheery wave to anyone who looks at him, as almost everyone will look away quickly in embarasment or not to make eye contact with a possible nutter.
The late Dennis Topley, Bradwell’s answer to Mr Trebus.
Spent his life tying carrier bags to trees and moving things round the village.
Had to retrieve a large plantpot of ours from outside the Co-op last year.
Life will be a little duller without him around.
Ok I know its Friday and therefore things tend to be light hearted but FFS in the 21 centaury do we have to find amusement in pointing and laughing a people with mental health problems and the failings of mental health system – yes it may be comical to see the ravening of ‘nutters’ in the street but the other side of the coin is the horrendous distress many of such people go thorough
To put it another way how popular would a “whose your favourite spastic” thread be and how long before it got pulled
Mental illness is no joke as several folk now on here know from personal experience – those who think it is might want to spend a day at work with me and see if there still laughing at the end of the day.
I took a day trip to Chorlton (Cum Hardy) t’other week and encountered two colourful characters:
A old lad with a teddy bear in a duffle coat – she was treating it like a child and trying to get it to ‘drink’ from a cup
A guy dressed in full combats and a red beret, who tried to sell me an Indiana Jones playset (hat and whip) with the amazing sales pitch “Do you want to buy this, it’s not stolen. You can buy it for your son.” I told him I don’t have a son and he looked furious.
In my home town of Altrincham, there’s Market Dave – a proper Rag and Bone man, who pushes his cart all over the place, stopping traffic and shouting at cars. He seems a bit tame compared to some of the nutters mentioned here. He was beaten up a couple of years ago and it made the front page of the local paper.