Loonies At Large


I don’t know if it’s just me, but there seems to be an unusually large number of loonies abroad at the moment. By way of making my point, let me introduce a few from the catalogue of grotesques who’ve crossed my path recently.

First up is a bloke I’ve seen on a few occasions. From a distance he seems reasonably respectable; it’s only when you get nearer that you realise that his hair’s matted, his suit’s thoroughly disreputable, and he appears to have pissed himself frequently. This poor sap wanders about, picking up a strange miscellany of objects, ranging from ring pulls and gobs of gum to fag packets and even a discarded johnny. He then examines these exhaustively, before putting them into a battered briefcase. As you do.

Next up is a batty old dame who got on the bus I was on; pencil thin and clearly mad as a box of frogs. ‘See ‘im at the stop’ she said to the driver, ‘tried to buy me coat he did. Told ‘im it weren’t for sale, but ‘e said if I didn’t, ‘e’d tek it, ‘e did. Told ‘im I’d get the bobbies, I did…’ etc etc. While this was going on, there was much dropping of heads and edging over in the seat from other passengers, until the driver told her to move down the bus so that he could proceed. She then plonked herself down next to an unfortunate in the priority seats for the disabled. ‘See ‘im at that stop, he tried to buy me coat he did…’.

We proceed onwards to a café in town, where I’d popped in for a coffee fix. In walked what can best be described as Mad Bag Lady, complete with riffy mac and Albert Einstein hairdo. She barged up and bawled to the guy behind the counter ‘oy! Stop playin’ with yerself! I want me tea. Stop playing with yerself! I want me tea!’. The manager appeared like a rabbit from a hat and ushered the miscreant unceremoniously to the door.

Last but not least is my personal favourite, an operatic fat lady lookalike complete with upward curling plaits, wearing a quilted jacket which appeared to have been slashed repeatedly with a razor blade. This apparition presented itself as I stood in Greggs, waiting to buy a sausage roll. The door was flung open and in she stormed, gesticulating wildly and yelling ‘shite! You’re all fuckin’ shite, that’s what you are! Shite!’. The woman serving said to her ‘get out you, or I’ll phone the police. I’ve told you!’. At which point the nutter beat a retreat, shouting ‘go fuck yerselves, ya fucking loada shites!’.

I must confess to feeling a bit of a cunt myself for this nomination, because even though you’ve got to sympathise with the poor bastards, you can’t help but chuckle as well. But I’m also left wondering precisely what is going on around here. Has somebody put something in the water? Is it a full moon, or is the warmer weather bringing them out? In closing, I can only say ‘watch out, there’s loonies about’.

Nominated by Ron Knee

51 thoughts on “Loonies At Large

  1. Its just our way, englands known for lovable eccentrics, they brighten up the day. Is the picture at top Chris williamson of Labour? Looks bit like the old skinny jew hater himself!

  2. And every single one of them is a fucking remoaner.

    “No more medicines!”

    “You can’t go to Spain!”

    “KFC will close down!”

    “The whole world will collapse!”

    “Farage is a Nazi!”

    So what’s the problem? It’s called the BBC.

  3. Mentals on the streets?,visits ti Greggs the Bakers?, trips on public transport?…it all sounds rather “urban” to me,Ron. I’d suggest that you move somewhere slightly more salubrious…. more rural. I would suggest Northumberland,but having read a few of your posts,won’t.

    Good Day to you Sir.

    • And to you, Dick.
      Must admit I wouldn’t mind moving somewhere a bit more peaceful (that’s as in quiet, not ‘peaceful’) but the wife likes being near the shops (what a fucking surprise there), the family, her pals, our excellent GP and dentist etc etc. She also maintains that uprooting ourselves at my age would be a real jolt. At my age, the cheeky sod.

  4. Theres a chap living round the corner from me who wears his hair and dresses like the lead singer of Dr and the Medics (spirit in the sky). From a distance it really looks like Lord Satan himself. I think that’s his intention. He does tend to lose the fear factor when spotted buying toilet roll and pot noodles at the local CoOp.

    • Years ago there was a bloke in Bristol who had a Christ complex which manifested itself in him lugging an eight foot long wooden cross up and down Park Street, a very steep hill near the city centre. I always thought the mad cunt was cheating a bit as the cross had a small wheel fixed to the end. Also the crown of thorns had been replaced by a bobble hat. That said,he never bothered anybody.

  5. ‘ Don’t Fucking Care In The Community ‘
    All the old mental hospitals are now ‘ executive housing ‘
    You’r all fucking shite !!
    WOOHOOOOOOWAAAAOOOOO !
    GIZZACIGGIZZACIGGIZZACIG !
    Get to fuck.

    • Sums up the problem nicely JtC. Always a few eccentrics shitting in the park, walking along the railway; now the loons are everywhere not taking their meds, self medicating on meths or hand wash. More of an urban problem as more people about. The few poor bastards we get around here tend to disappear pretty quickly especially in the colder months get lost in the fen and either die of exposure or drown in a drain. Don’t fucking care in the community yeah that’s right. Must confess to finding a loon in an antique centre very amusing which makes me a cunt i suppose.

    • What a “wonderfelly “edgy ” place to live. Olivia, Tarquin, just skip along this way, yah, bring your 5-Quinoa-flavoured craft gin and childfever tonic with you… This is the utility room, where they used to carry out ECT, and this master-bedroom with en-suite panelled wank-pit is the old lobotomy theatre and “recovery” room…”

    • Too right Jack, I lived in a converted loony bin for a while. I always thought it a shame they’d been booted out of their tranquil haven.

  6. I think you’ve just described the remainers on the BBC/Sly news in roughly 12 months time. Slowly going cuckoo.
    We’re all doomed DOOMED I tell yer!!
    Your all fucking NAZIS you lot are!!

  7. These nutters have been around since the dawn of time. They were all over the shop when I was a kid. These days most of them are in Parliament, on the Labour /SNP front benches in particular.

  8. They should get the “Young Royals” to sort this out. They are experts on mental health……i’ve seen them yakking about it on the telly.
    Speaking of which, I see Markle’s security thugs were telling cunts at Wimbledon to stop taking pictures of “The Duchess”. This, despite the fact she was on live TV. Who the fuck does she think she is? Let’s hope Tangoman sends back our remoaner Ambassador and we can chuck the bitch back where she came from.

    • I’d reply to the hired goon that she can take the trouble to come over and politely ask me herself, at which point I’d politely reply to her:

      FUCK OFF YOU HALF BREED AMERICUNT, YOU’RE NOT ONE OF US AND NEVER FUCKING WILL BE!

  9. Sorry Ron. I thought you would be interested in my collection of ring-pulls.

    • Sorry no time CC. The wife’s always on at me as it is to do something about organising my own stuff. She doesn’t mind the old fag packets so much, but really loses it when I try to clean my dustbin lid collection in the bath.
      Just out of interest, how much do you think you’d get for your functional modern art assemblage if you put it up for auction at Sotherby’s?

  10. Barmpots and crate eggs have always been around… They just get indulged more these days by the cozzers, the media and snowflake society at large… They also now have a place to congregate in social fucking media…. They now get called things like ‘special’ or ‘characters’… When all they are is pains in the arse and utter cunts….

  11. Reminds me of living in Southampton as a student, especially bussing around to see a local bird or mates in far flung student housing.

    I used to stick on my headphones and listen to ‘Scary Monsters, Super Creeps’ , then try not to smile or make eye contact.

  12. Perhaps we should address this question to Jeremy Hunt?

    After all, he’s big on care in the community and is oft proud to say he was Health Secretary for 6 years.

    On the other hand, he’s really just another looney…

    • You probably don’t know this but Jeremy was also an entrepreneur.
      I don’t why the cunt doesn’t mention it more often.

      • The principal reason for more fribbles on the street is the wholesale closure of loon ‘orsepiddles which started under Thatcher’s watch in the 80’s.

        That and the importing of fribbles from overseas. Just give them their anti-loon drugs and hope for the best.

        They now walk among us.

      • Hunt is a satanically possessed vent dummy.
        Just look at those eyes (but not for too long…).

      • You’re spot on about the imports PM. Last time I visited my friends in London, it was alarming to see the number of riffy, shifty looking Arab and eastern European types wandering about in or outside tube stations, rolling their eyes, muttering and cursing, clawing away at imaginary flies.
        I sometimes wonder if they’re all being ‘encouraged’ to ‘relocate’ here by the powers that be in the shitholes they’ve come from. Now our fucking problem of course.

    • I’ve told the wife to stop posting on social media SG, but one word from me and she does as she likes.

      No dear, that’s just my little joke. Ouch, that hurt!

  13. You’re not wrong about the current proliferation of these loonies Ron. Hell, even Her Majesty’s Most Loyal Opposition is supposedly “led” by a semi-literate nutjob.

  14. Many years ago I paid a visit to Colditz Castle, scene of the famous POW camp. In those days part of the building was a loony bin…….a proper fucking loony bin! There were about 12-15 pinheads, as in the photo, standing in doorways and staring out of windows. They never made a sound as we walked past, just stared at us. It gave me the fucking willies I can tell you.
    I remember the tour guide telling us that one night they all escaped and there were about 30 pinheads wandering around the town in their PJs. I had to turn my back so people couldn’t see me laughing.
    But then i’m a cunt. Doesn’t mean you have to be.

  15. Pass on my number next time will you ron….
    They sound more sane than some of my exes.

    • Any particular preference DS? The Human Pencil on the bus or Fat Singing Lady in Gregg’s?
      Forget Mad Bag Lady, I’ve got my own eye on her…

  16. Absolute bad form, old boy! Of course it was the coming of the railways that started the rot. Things have never been the same once the great unwashed could get to Bath and spoil it for the rest of us…

  17. I wonder if I might be one of these loonies you allude to Mr K. My wife says I frighten people by moving too close, for example when I ask for directions, and invade their personal space. I also take an instant dislike to some people for no real reason. There are two guys who live nearby whom I despise for no reason other than an instinctive feeling and glare pure hatred at them when I pass. I´ve noticed that one of them now crosses the street whenever he sees me.

    • Nah I’d say you’re alright Mr P; pretty normal on here as far your average, everyday IsAC misanthropist goes. However, seek professional advice immediately in the event of developing any of the following characteristics;
      * starting a fight with yourself
      * pissing or exposing yourself in the shopping precinct
      * setting fire to your own hair or clothes
      *standing in traffic, yelling ‘fuck off ya bastards!’ at everybody and nobody in particular
      * self-abusing in the bushes in the park
      *being found comatose in a rubbish skip, reeking of meths
      In addition, the undernoted should be taken as warning signs, warranting a period of monitoring;
      *rummaging in litter bins for fag ends
      *carrying a placard proclaiming ‘the end is nigh’
      *parading about in a filthy mac carrying a plastic bag full of empty beer tins

      Hope this has been of some help and reassurance.

  18. In a previous post you may have gathered that I have moved to loony vile myself,
    Sunday was fantastic I noted a group of hoodies running amongst the top flats, where the young without it live, The person above me had some people round who most definitely were not the relis, and Mr Metrosexual at the end was engaged in a slagging match with the old biddy down stairs (the one that throws cat shit).
    I had mentioned to Mrs B that I had a gut feel that these people were loonies and best not to get involved with them.
    so rise and shine Monday morn off to work I go, come home and the gossip starts.
    Mr Metrosexual woke up to find that (apart from having a sore bottom) His TV and electrics were missing (and the bloke he picked up the night before) so we have the ultimate Who dunnit!
    was it the rent boy?
    The county lines gang?
    The hoodies?
    or was it an inside job?

  19. It’s all the rage around Hove to have a window licker in tow. Can’t go anywhere without care workers escorting them to coffee shops and Pubs. Sometimes their are 2care workers with one nutter. That’s when you know it could kick off at any moment. In the old days they confined the cunts to Bedlam. I’ve even had these carers hand out cards warning us about a potential full retard happening.

    • Coffee shops are red alert areas for the twitchy type/care worker combo these days.
      Not long ago I went into one where there’s not a lot of room, and the tables are crammed quite closely together. The only vacant table was next to one such duo, and I sat down at it, only to be loudly informed by the twitcher that he was having a private meeting with his care worker and that I couldn’t sit there as he didn’t want to be overheard.
      I took a deep breath and informed the cunt that if he wanted privacy he should go somewhere private, not a fucking café. Things might have got heated had the carer not said sharpish to him ‘it’s alright Matthew, don’t get flustered’, and mouthed ‘sorry’ at me. He carried on twitching and giving me unpleasant glances, but left me alone when he realised that I wasn’t going to be intimidated.

  20. I saw one pissing in a freezer in Iceland. The Carer just walked off and left him to it.
    There’s one loony that takes a shit in the middle of Sainsbury’s.
    If I was in control the cunt would be living in a rubber room wearing a jacket that fastens at the back. Dirty cunt.

  21. “This poor sap wanders about, picking up a strange miscellany of objects, ring pulls and gobs of gum fag packets and even a discarded johnny. He then examines these before putting them into a battered briefcase”

    What a nasty man you are Ronnee,just coz I voluntarily help to keep our streets clean and tidy,all unpaid of course, you have to cunt me out publicly and accuse me of being a nutter.I accept Im a cunt but I vehemently deny any suggestion of mental illness.If you werent a fellow cunter and I wasnt a proud coward I would challenge you to a duel at dawn,Sir.As it is Ill let it pass for now.

    • Sorry Cunts, didn’t know it was you. I had absolutely no intention to embarrass you or anyone else on this forum; as you’ll note, I even refer to myself as ‘a bit of a cunt’ at one point.
      Far be it from me to suggest that you’re a nutter. Would you accept ‘mildly eccentric’ as a compromise? (and keep up the anti-littering work, you’re a credit to the community. Be careful with the discarded johnnies mind).
      PS no use challenging me to a duel; as a fully paid up member of The Union of Knee Knockers and Pant Pissers, I’d be off like a rat up a drainpipe.

  22. On the subject of wierdos or in this case dirty perverted fuckers, I once had to carry out a joinery job on a property owned by a friend, it turned out that part of this property was a knocker, now the girls there were a decent bunch and over the period I was working there, over a brew, used to tell tales which would raise an eyebrow but one tale turned my guts, apparently this one disgusting individual who used to call on regular basis and would ring up early doors to say that he would be in later to partake in his kink which would be to eat all the jizz from the condom’s that the girls would save for him.!! I often wonder wether this beast ever upped his game to murder! ?

  23. I was once on an overnight train, imagine my delight at 2am when from fucking nowhere a Downs Syndrome started Malaaaaaring, used his mong powers to bounce his carer off the wall and went toe to toe with a ticking Tourette’s.

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