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Thread: Fucking Nutter

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    Fucking Nutter

    Farang lunatics are ten a penny in Thailand but i've met the best so far. This Cananadian guy has just started work at my school and he announced to the staffroom that he had several stays in mental institutions during his life. In responce to a question as to why he had spent considerable time in funny farms he responded with the unbeatable "Manic depression and constant sexual fantasy" and then suddenly put his arm around the shy Taiwanese heiress sitting next to him looked meaningfully into her eyes.

    The oxygen was literally sucked from the room.

    The sad thing is he will probably still be at work tomorrow I'm taking my Mace and if he looks at my hairy, girlish, arms in a funny way I will hoze the mutha fucker down.


    (true story)
    They champion falsehood, support the butcher against the victim, the oppressor against the innocent child. May God mete them the punishment they deserve

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    Got a mate that suffers from manic depression.he has been on some serious drugs to combat it.The amazing thing about him is the way he attracts women...unreal.It's as if they can smell him.

    When he goes manic,it's not too bad.He just doesn't sleep for three/four days..like he is on speed.He normally spends a week inside a loony bin every three/four years.Quite controllable...except for the time his landlord was rude to him about playing loud music.He told me about it..it went something like this when he explained the event after spemding a week "inside"

    'Well LC,this fcuking kocksucker of a landlord never liked me.Anyway the prick came round and asked me to TURN THE FUCKING MUSIC DOWN.I told him that if he spoke to me like that again I would pop him.He then told me to go and fcuk myself....Now I knew inside that I was starting to loose it,but I thought..what the fcuk..he's a prick and deserves it and I'll prolly have to spend a week inside to get back to normall...so I dropped him like a sack of spuds."

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    disturbance in the Turnip baldrick's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by mad_dog View Post
    Taiwanese heiress
    photo's

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    ^^^Probably end up being your boss in a few weeks

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    Quote Originally Posted by mad_dog
    "Manic depression and constant sexual fantasy"
    Not Galt is it?

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    Good for the manic dude, the landlord probably deserved it. At least that is what I hear when something bad happens to me ... I probably deserved it so I am now spreading the message.

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    Quote Originally Posted by baldrick View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by mad_dog View Post
    Taiwanese heiress
    photo's
    I'll have a look. But after hearing the "I am rich" line from retired milkmen with pensions and ex pat engineers meeting someone whu actually is (20 or so large factories in Thailand and Taiwan) fluent in English, Chinese, Thai and Japanese puts things in perspective. As to why she is working as an English teacher she was allowed two yeras of freedom before starting work in the family busniess. Trust me loaded ain't the word.
    Last edited by mad_dog; 13-07-2007 at 05:49 AM.

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    I've had a few friends with mental illnesses.

    Ever try and convince a highly intelligent paranoid schizophrenic they are delusional? Not small talk! But entertaining (and left me a bit uncertain as to what "reality" was).

    Although mental illness is still a stigma I've always liked the honesty, originality and candour of people who admit they have a mental illness; never a dull moment, that's for sure, and often a lot more interesting to talk to than what passes for conversation with so-called normal people.
    Last edited by Hootad Binky; 13-07-2007 at 06:07 AM.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Hootad Binky View Post
    I've had a few friends with mental illnesses.

    Ever try and convince a highly intelligent paranoid schizophrenic they are delusional? Not small talk! But entertaining (and left me a bit uncertain as to what "reality" was).

    Although mental illness is still a stigma I've always liked the honesty, originality and candour of people who admit they have a mental illness; never a dull moment, that's for sure, and often a lot more interesting to talk to than what passes for conversation with so-called normal people.
    Yeah but someone who has been sectioned under the Mental Health Act for "constant sexual fantasies" isn't really the kind of bloke you want teaching kiddies eh?

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    Quote Originally Posted by dirtydog View Post
    ^^^Probably end up being your boss in a few weeks
    Yup, this is the way things seem to work around here.



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    i find crazy people interesting. the guy will undoubtedly liven up the staff room and its not as if you hired him. fuck it. relax and enjoy the show.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Milkman View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by dirtydog View Post
    ^^^Probably end up being your boss in a few weeks
    Yup, this is the way things seem to work around here.


    The sad thing is I work for a farang company which has a contract with a private school to provide its English programme. They pay 40,000 to 50,000 baht (in the countryside) and this is dude manages to land a job. I think he will get sacked today but its woken me up to TEFL as a career. Come to September 2008 I'm going back to the UK to do a masters. I'm sick of working with scum bags and being "guilty by association".

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    How embarrassing to be a Canadian. But, I have seen these weirdos (cannot get a job in Canada after lolling for ten years at uni in social studies so they go somewhere to "teach" English). Steer clear, Mad Dog. Alert your colleagues. I hope he bathes.
    Tell him he's a hoser.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Jet Gorgon View Post
    (cannot get a job in Canada after lolling for ten years at uni in social studies so they go somewhere to "teach" English). .
    He has a legit degree and a few years of teaching experience in Japan but in Canada he was a baker.

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    Quote Originally Posted by mad_dog View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by Jet Gorgon View Post
    (cannot get a job in Canada after lolling for ten years at uni in social studies so they go somewhere to "teach" English). .
    He has a legit degree and a few years of teaching experience in Japan but in Canada he was a baker.
    Ya, that sounds about right.

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    Quote Originally Posted by mad_dog View Post
    Yeah but someone who has been sectioned under the Mental Health Act for "constant sexual fantasies" isn't really the kind of bloke you want teaching kiddies eh?
    Yeah keep an eye on him! Not all are amusing eccentrics.

    Some guy was talking to himself REALLY LOUDLY today on a boulevard downtown, just BELLOWING to all and sundry. Perhaps these sorts of people need to be engaged somehow, witha kind word, conversation, or, failing that, perhaps a megaphone or air horn directed at close range

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    Quote Originally Posted by mad_dog View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by Milkman View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by dirtydog View Post
    ^^^Probably end up being your boss in a few weeks
    Yup, this is the way things seem to work around here.


    The sad thing is I work for a farang company which has a contract with a private school to provide its English programme. They pay 40,000 to 50,000 baht (in the countryside) and this is dude manages to land a job.
    Sounds like a good salary, especially out in the country. How do.... these screwballs get hired?

    I think he will get sacked today but its woken me up to TEFL as a career. Come to September 2008 I'm going back to the UK to do a masters. I'm sick of working with scum bags and being "guilty by association".
    What subject are you going to study for your Master's?

    Going to return and continue in education in LOS or somewhere else overseas?
    ............

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    THe lad I mentioned in another thread who got deported from Spaim was a manic depressive. He was also a local hard lad and his depression sometimes came out as anger. He once nearly hung me from a washing line at a party by my neck. Thankfully another of the local hard lads came out and slapped him across the face. Ended up with him on his knees saying he was sorry and he just can't help himself.

    Great guy. Scary. Funny. Scary. Funny Scary Funny.

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    I thought most men had constant sexual fantasies

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    ^ they do, but most men try and avoid telling that to a girl on the first meeting!

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    ^Point taken.

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    Bit long but worth a read if you don't have a life...based on fact...

    Brief background: Sue's father was a successful businessman but sadly an overtrusting person that fell victim to his bank in the early 1990s through morally reprehensible though technically legal use of microprint...they reduced an honest, hard working, highly respected man to nothing, and buried him with paperwork as he plummeted from riches to rags, poor sod died of shock, lingering shock, and nothing anyone could do, mother followed within a month and three weeks later brother was found doped up and drowned in his own vomit...Sue went into meltdown for the best part of a year then withdrew from the world for another two, three years, total seclusion, no friends, minimum contact with a society that could allow this to happen, heavy illicit medication, silence and darkness. She wanted to be with those that were stolen from her but couldn't muster the courage to make it happen, so suffered instead her private grief with the damned...until the morning this tough little gal awoke with vengeance in her heart, taking great pride in her own war of attrition against all parts of the establishment, government, business, all the same to her. Nothing is sacred, no suit or uniform, all fair game, and she makes no secret of the fact that she's bullet-proof. In her own words, there's nothing they can do to hurt her; even leaves herself wide open and challenges them to try.

    Not into riches at all but gets off on doing her bit for the small guy, when she got a shop job, from day two by which time she sussed it out, and then for her next six weeks their revenue plunged as hers went up with what she calls freelance commissions, or about ten percent of the take. They couldn't prove it was her, tried to set her up with undercover shoppers and when that didn't work they fired her for being late every day, which she was but that's a minor detail. As a betting office clerk it took her a week to find a way round their security, and then winning bets on the dogs lurched into overdrive, something to do with the timing slips but must've been pure beginners' luck that her mates who knew sod all about betting and half had never been in a betting office in their life suddenly started picking winner after winner. Oh yeah, always big firms, never but never a one-man outfit that would hurt. As a supermarket cashier, as much unpaid as paid stuff went through her till, and when she worked for an off license chain that banked twice a week half their stock vanished overnight as well as four days takings. Again, they knew but couldn't prove, so they contrived a reason to get rid of her and happily paid the by now manadatory month plus extras up front to get her out the door without having to answer to a tribunal.

    Oh yeah, she's a lean, mean 57 inches and 95 pounds standing on tiptoe wearing wet clothes and carrying a marble paperweight, sort of makes her look flimsy and vulnerable, to the foolish.


    Chris, her boyfriend, recounts:

    Her friends call her scorched earth. For the past couple of years since her rebirth she's been moving from job to job, and making it a religion to screw everything in her path, whether business or government, and local or central; again, all the same.

    She's already terrorised the bureauprats up north; their learning curve hit the ceiling mighty fast, and the brighter ones know to keep her at arms length even if it means reinterpreting a few rules, like if she strolls into the benefits office for something, whether a loan, grant or query, they'll burn their asses to give it to her just to get her off their back and out of the office...

    There was an incident before we got together, when she rented a two bedroom house with grounds, all for herself. Her friends jibed that she ain't getting away with that, impressed that she even had the guts to try, but she smiled politely, as though she had insider info. Anyway, some overzealous trainee from housing that didn't know of her pulls out the rule book and decides she's over-occupying the place, which means it's too big for her needs. Well it was, but that's another minor detail. To cut a very long story short, the day after she received his letter saying they would only pay fifty-something per cent of her rent, housing came to a standstill, police were called but backed off when it became clear their immediate absence would prevent a riot, and not only did she get a written assurance from the big cheese at housing that her rent commitments would be met in full but they also moved the novice to another district. Sure they have rules, but no rules that work with her and they know it, and more important she knows it.

    She's taken full advantage of her past, got her doctor to write the word psychotic in her file and uses this as her personal shield and stick. She makes sure everyone knows just enough to back off, even the cops, and they're very tolerant with her, actually, they know the material parts of her story and envy her spunk, and also that there's a gimme-your-best-shot tornado lurking in there, so whenever there's a problem they do their best not to fuck with her.


    ...Another example of her tenacity was when the local Carphone Warehouse refused to replace her mobile, hey you gotta hear this...The manager said it wasn't working because it had obviously been dropped, as evidenced by a dent. Well it had been dropped actually, but as usual that was only a diversionary detail.

    Anyway, she gets into it and starts winding them up, and eventually they call plod; only, once they arrive and see her at the epicentre the striped one decides it's a civil matter and as long as the customer doesn't break the law she's perfectly entitled to dissuade shoppers from entering the premises, though it would be nice if she didn't physically bar the double doors with her lean and mean frame as part of her protest.

    Then the manager, who by the way doesn't know her, turns round and demands that they curb her ranting and screaming, because she's disturbing the peace...(pause) Blun-der! ...Now according to Tim, who happened to be at the Centre and was drawn by the commotion, Sue yells, 'disturbing the peace? - disturbing the peace am I? I'll show the moron about disturbing the peace! 'Ere,' she yells at the cop...so she yells 'ere, moron says it's dented, you believe that - dented is it?' with this she grabs the phone, cleverly concealing the dent with her finger as she shoves it in top cop's face, 'can you see a fucking dent?' she asks, 'can you; don't just stand there gawping, asshole - answer me,' she snorts, on tiptoe and stretching to shake it in his face...but before the poor guy can respond she turns round and smashes it and her hand through their display case which isn't easy considering they're toughened glass which is now showered all over the place. 'There y'go mate,' she shrieks, backing off a step, 'now it's fucking dented, right? - and now you can do me for disturbing the fucking peace!' - and then a mutter to herself for his benefit, 'just try an you'll end up helping fuckin geriatrics across the road'!

    Anyway, she's gashed her hand and bleeding bad but ignores it completely, like it never happened. Stripey radios for an ambulance but she starts screaming that's just a ploy to take her away and if they try that she's leaving through the front window. Crowd already gathering outside and jeer their support, well wound up by Tim's verbal, some rubbing their hands together, probably hoping something might trigger the herd mentality so they can play a more, um, active role in the proceedings, while others are clapping to keep warm but any fool could see who had the sympathy of the masses.

    Cop's not feeling comfortable one bit, is he? Couple of the workers bring towels and hot water, and someone starts making a makeshift poultice; she's civil to the innocents but manager sees the steaming water and backs off to the safety of half his office door.

    Top cop checks her arm to see if she's gonna live then warns her, very nicely mind you, that he really doesn't want to but if she doesn't calm down he will have no choice but to arrest her. But she's not daft and well knows there's no way they're actually going to take her in after that little performance, especially with a crowd massed, swelling and sizzling, and doubly so with Tim in the front seat.

    Still, she wants to squeeze; her point made, four-foot-nine looks up at the cop and asks in her sweetest Alice innocence, 'you want to arrest me, mister?' - He says not unless I have to, dear, which she's well sussed as meaning no fucking way.

    Now Tim's elbowed his way to the front of the crowd. Don't know if you know him, Tiny, got lotsa front and built like a tanker - nature gave him size for protection but he's an insect in disguise, anyway, he starts jiving on the spot and yells from the crowd, 'yeah man, do it, go on, take her in, man...let's have some fun...see if you can get past us. C'mon, mate, let's see yer balls!'

    Enough said, cop's got the message...Manager returns, but he's a straight, not a clue what's happening around him and now it's turned into a matter of principle with him so he's well dug in. By now the crowd is growing and the cops are trying to keep them from getting in, but there's only three all in, top cop's busy her and manager and the other two not enough to do the job, so they've tried to shut the door but Tim and his mate have stepped forward and Tim's jammed his foot there and politely invited them to remove it; they've looked at each other then past him, figured out they're well outnumbered and the sensible thing to do is not to force the issue. Most of the crowd don't like cops at Christmas and they're getting restless, Tim's well into heckle mode and more of his mates have turned up, barged their way to the front, with mobiles hotting up as they muster reserves. Not a pleasant backdrop if you're on the wrong side.

    Top cop sees it falling apart and figures he's got to do something to keep a semblance of order before some loose canon decides the conditions are right for a free for all, so he gets on his radio and calls for backup while she gets patched up and he tries to defuse the situation.

    Problem is, she's only gone and heard the word backup hasn't she, and that's it, lost it completely. So there she is, the Polaroid moment, and she knows how to get the best shot, slithers right under him so he has to look straight down and she has to look straight up for his face, 'you need what?' she pouts, astonished, hands on hips, 'did you say backup?' she says, arms apart and backing off a step to emphasise her elflike frame, 'for me?'

    By now the crowd's hooting and giving her major support, so she turns from the crestfallen cop to gee them up even more, singing like a kid, 'Knacker's called for back'up, Knacker's called for back'up,' then calls to her buddies, 'you believe that? - twice my size and three times my weight on his own, with two more heavyweights in his arsenal and he's calling the cavalry.'

    Well that's it, now they give a resounding cheer and start baiting the cops, all in good humour mind you but you know how it is, with the promise of an ugly downside if top cop doesn't get his act together, and fast, or if looks like she might come out second best; or probably by this time if she just whistles.

    Anyway, top cop's no mug, he's sussed it out and probably thinking of his family; puts his arm gently around her, smiles and waves to the pack, gives a special friendly nod to Tim who's filling the door and bits of his mates through the gaps, says he believes her 'cos he saw no dent in the phone - which she conveys to the crowd - but she never really gave him a chance, did she, and would she now please do him the favour of helping him to help her. She holds one hand up, Tim does the same and the crowd goes into instant hush mode, not a fucking murmur.

    Cop sees this and almost shits himself. Manager's face drops and he goes into instant reverse. Cop gestures to a seat and asks her ve-ry politely to sit down so he can put her case to manager, who's already the brute and lost it completely with his own staff, but he's talking very clear and very slow, with half of both eyes on Tim. Meanwhile, manager's still outwardly adamant from the safety of his office door but by now they all know if there's a brain anywhere near his body it'll be looking for an out.

    So she goes through the motions of giving cop a hard time, but eventually grudgingly accepts his invitation to sit down, suddenly calm as a Rasta in a hammock on a warm breezy day by the beach with a kilo of home grown. Like a cranky kid, she plonks herself in a different seat, not the one he motioned her to, just to let him know who's really in charge, but he's happy just to have her seated, which has a naturally calming effect.

    Ambulance arrives but can't get anywhere near the scene and kept on standby via the radio. Backup can be heard arriving, usual bells and whistles from two directions, but top cop's forgotten about them.

    Sue hears it in the distance and stomps herself up, looks over at Tim and his crew, he's looked over his shoulder, so have his mates, all wound up and definitely not wanting to but ready to drive the crowd into taking the initiative, top cop's seen what's happening and knows for a fact it's a riot if the new crew arrives - now look at it from their side, they came in response to a call for assistance, not a clue on the nature of the incident, and would try to take the upper hand, with by now fairly predictable results. So he reaches for his talkie to call them off but looks at her for confirmation, she nods, he calls situation under control, back off, repeat, urgent, back off, and a few tense seconds later the sirens go dead.

    Sue nods, Tiny and his crew unspring, crowd settles, cop breathes a visible sigh and looks daggers at the manager who by now's already being sneered by his own staff.

    So she's thrown the place into confusion and sitting there like an innocent bystander wondering what the fuck's going on around her, scans the shop, smiles to Tim like she's just noticed he's there and waves him over, recognises some of his buddies and waves them over too. Cop at the door misses her invitations and bars their way, so she makes a thing of picking up her chair, loud ooooh from the crowd, top cop reels round and rushes over as she sort of readies to swing and yells at the door cop, 'oi fuckwit, reckon you'll look nice in a chair?'

    ...Game over! Top cop's given it away hasn't he? - can't hold it anymore, face in a grin, he looks at her again, shakes his head and doubles over laughing, asks if she knows Tim, she reverts to childlike confusion, victim of events and all that, with the big brute manager trying to get one over on her, and how she needs a friend, or in this case some friends, so he nods to the door cop, parts his palms to the floor and Tiny and two of his mates are in; with the rest of his crew filling the vacuum to front the crowd. Only a small shop it is and Tiny on his own makes it crowded, but his mates are also on the big side and have intuitively taken up positions close to the uniforms, just standing there, hands behind their backs against the walls, which doesn't go unnoticed by top cop. Oh, and one of them is Graham, well known to the cops as scarface.

    Now if you know Tim you also know he's another candidate for the funny farm; anyway, he sort of lumbers over like he's on Sunday jaunt in the woods, 'Giving you a hard time are they, mate?' he asks. 'Nah love, not the cops, they're okay, just 'im over there,' she says, aiming her chin at the manager.

    Top cop nods in appreciation of her clearance but moron sees himself fingered, or chinned, already on every shitlist north of Watford and probably imagines he's number one on the roster if someone decides a lynching might spice up the day, figured he's already not worth sweet fanny and probably won't see any business for the next couple of weeks anyway, if the shop's still there tomorrow so he asks top cop to accompany him as he walks over to offer her a complimentary phone, as a gesture of goodwill.

    Tim thumbs up his mates and the crowd heaves a response; all looks rosy...but now she's squeezing for the hell of it, has to give those she might have future contact with something to remember her; verbals the manager for giving her a hard time, reducing his stature to rat belly level then goes into histrionics to summarise how he tried to rip her off and caused all this bother, and that these wonderful uniforms should be out there looking for criminals, not brought in to help phone shop managers rip off their customers.

    Now he's on the run and she's wound herself right up, way beyond hysterics, demanding compensation, and starts rattling off her demands, each firmly echoed with 'yer' from Tiny, his mates and those in the crowd closest the door.

    Seventy-five quid for an afternoon's loss of work though she was unemployed at the time, three pounds seventy travel expenses incurred as a direct result of them selling her a duff phone in the first place, and fifteen for a taxi back 'cos she's traumatised and couldn't handle a bus, plus her emotional and physical injuries, loss of use of said phone, line rental for the period, and general distress and inconvenience and a bit thrown in for goodwill. Oh yes, and two hundred quid for punitive damages though she later tells Tim she doesn't even know what that means but she heard it in a TV court case and it sounded posh.

    Manager's wobbling his head in disbelief as she rattles off her demands, and when she's finished he smiles patronisingly and offers her a token twenty quid plus a new phone, just to get her out the door.

    But of course she's not having any of that, right? - 'Said summat funny, 'ave I?' she says, making to move at him; Tiny nods to his mates, top cop of course has sussed out the moody but couldn't take the chance, raises a hand and steps in, tells manager that he saw the phone in question and as far he's concerned it was not dented, that the entire incident could've been avoided if he'd used a hint of decency if not, listen to this, if not common sense, that the phones cost his company nothing in any case, and that as things stand he stands a fair chance of being charged with wasting police time if he persists in being deliberately and unreasonably obstructive.

    She nods, touches his arm as a gesture and he steps back pleased as pie and now a protected specie. Anyway, long story short, she leaves a few minutes later, struts out to cheers, flanked by her unarmed escorts but with 12 months free line rental to go with the latest Samsung, three-hundred and something in cash pounds and the promise of an official, written apology from the company for their mistake.

  23. #23
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    ^ Sorry. Too long.

    Anyway, there was a western nutter walking around in his underpants outside the office on Asoke yesterday. Two policemen bundled him into a police car and took him back to ECC. Bloody Canadians!

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    Bit long? No shit, Keda. Add a few pics next time, please.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Marmite the Dog View Post
    ^ Sorry. Too long.

    Anyway, there was a western nutter walking around in his underpants outside the office on Asoke yesterday. Two policemen bundled him into a police car and took him back to ECC. Bloody Canadians!
    Don't start. Marmie. I'll have to sew an American flag on my backpack.

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