Crazy Relatives
curvylittlegoth writes, "My Grandma is crazy, crazy mad. As well as regularly putting curses on us all, she once fell asleep in the armchair on a sunny afternoon, Barley Wine in one hand, Peter Stuyveson in the other, only to wake up several hours later to a Darth Vader sounding fireman. She thought she was in HELL as the smoke and flames billowed round her..."
Are any of your relatives this loopy?
( , Thu 5 Jul 2007, 15:59)
curvylittlegoth writes, "My Grandma is crazy, crazy mad. As well as regularly putting curses on us all, she once fell asleep in the armchair on a sunny afternoon, Barley Wine in one hand, Peter Stuyveson in the other, only to wake up several hours later to a Darth Vader sounding fireman. She thought she was in HELL as the smoke and flames billowed round her..."
Are any of your relatives this loopy?
( , Thu 5 Jul 2007, 15:59)
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My Dad.
My old man is an extremely intelligent eccentric. We've clashed over a few things, but Im glad he's my dad.
A very minor example to start with. As a boy/teenager, if I had friends around, and one broke, say a cup, my dad would then start throwing other crockery items around to make them feel less like they'd done wrong. However, this isn't what makes him stand out as crazy.
The defining anecdote about my dads mentalness is this...
Scene setting. Its the early eighties. 82/83. A housing estate in sleepy cheshire. Dad and one of his friends head off in the car (Vauxhall Marina) to do something. Can't remember what. Me and my Sis and Ma are sat at home doing whatever it was we did in the eighties.
Dad has a car accident. He's only got 3 or 4 hundred metres away from the house, when another car crashed into him.
Now, he was wearing his seatbelt, but they werent so tight or responsive in them days. Dad goes through the windscreen. Then the seatbelt pulls him pack through.
He turned the car around, and DROVE HOME!!
Calmy comes in through the front door, blood pumping out from all around his head and neck. We all scream. He looked like he's just re enacted the school ball scene from Carrie.
Wanders up stairs, spends a few minutes trying to clean himself up so he can assess the damage, before giving in, wrapping towels around his severely lacerated neck, and letting my mum drive him to the hospital.
Now, I don't know about you, but if I went through a windscreen both ways, my story would be end something like "I screamed like a girl for an ambulance."
And a final round up. When I was fifteen, I was going out with a seventeen your old girl. The week before my sixteenth, he suggested I might like to invite my girlfiend over for the weekend, which I duly did. Friday cometh, he bought me durex, and he moved into a hotel for the weekend.
He came back on the saturday morning. Bought us a full fried english brekkie in bed. Did a bit of nudge nudge wink wink, then buggered off again and left us to it.
What a legend.
( , Tue 10 Jul 2007, 15:10, Reply)
My old man is an extremely intelligent eccentric. We've clashed over a few things, but Im glad he's my dad.
A very minor example to start with. As a boy/teenager, if I had friends around, and one broke, say a cup, my dad would then start throwing other crockery items around to make them feel less like they'd done wrong. However, this isn't what makes him stand out as crazy.
The defining anecdote about my dads mentalness is this...
Scene setting. Its the early eighties. 82/83. A housing estate in sleepy cheshire. Dad and one of his friends head off in the car (Vauxhall Marina) to do something. Can't remember what. Me and my Sis and Ma are sat at home doing whatever it was we did in the eighties.
Dad has a car accident. He's only got 3 or 4 hundred metres away from the house, when another car crashed into him.
Now, he was wearing his seatbelt, but they werent so tight or responsive in them days. Dad goes through the windscreen. Then the seatbelt pulls him pack through.
He turned the car around, and DROVE HOME!!
Calmy comes in through the front door, blood pumping out from all around his head and neck. We all scream. He looked like he's just re enacted the school ball scene from Carrie.
Wanders up stairs, spends a few minutes trying to clean himself up so he can assess the damage, before giving in, wrapping towels around his severely lacerated neck, and letting my mum drive him to the hospital.
Now, I don't know about you, but if I went through a windscreen both ways, my story would be end something like "I screamed like a girl for an ambulance."
And a final round up. When I was fifteen, I was going out with a seventeen your old girl. The week before my sixteenth, he suggested I might like to invite my girlfiend over for the weekend, which I duly did. Friday cometh, he bought me durex, and he moved into a hotel for the weekend.
He came back on the saturday morning. Bought us a full fried english brekkie in bed. Did a bit of nudge nudge wink wink, then buggered off again and left us to it.
What a legend.
( , Tue 10 Jul 2007, 15:10, Reply)
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