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James, Greenisland, Co. Antrim
When I was a kid and on my way to school 'James' (I'm pretty sure it wasn't his real name) used to stand at the train station, muttering train times and repeating the tannoy announcements while wondering aimlessly up and down the platform. Used to ride to the train station on a bikes, which the cops eventually took off him, being a danger to traffic and himself. Kids at the station used to take his bike and hide it around the cornder from where he'd left it, then tell him someone had stolen it. He'd wander of in search muttering 'little bastards' under his breath. Often, he'd still be looking for it when we got back from school, even though it was no more than twenty feet from where he'd left. Rumour was he used to be a factory foreman who'd been brain damaged in a car crash.
submitted by Fr. Finton Stack
Leslie & Garnet Bell, Belfast
An absolute nutcase who used to live just around the corner from me back in the early 60's. Back then he was in his early-20's, and his favourite hobby was dipping a broompole in dog-shit and chasing little kids along the street with it. The family used to live in a terraced house but had to move to a fourth-floor flat to get away from angry parents banging on their door and kids throwing stones at their windows. About ten years ago, his younger brother Garnet (who was never allowed out) went nuts, burst into a secondary school with a home-made flamethrower made from a fire extinguisher, and torched some
pupils. None of them died, fortunately, but some of them are scarred for life. Definately not one for the'harmless nutter' category. Died from cancer in prison. submitted by Big Brian
Stan the Man, Templepatrick, Co. Antrim
A raging, violent alcoholic who lived in my old estate. He used to come home roaring drunk almost every night, and would sleep in the dog-kennel outside his house because his wife wouldn't let him in. Poor dog. When walking past his house at night, I frequently used to hear him yelling 'Bite it! Bite it!' from the bedroom window. About 10 years ago, he hit his wife with a frying pan, breaking her neck. She refused to press charges, but died about two years later. Because of the 'year and a day' rule, he got off scot-free. He went even more mad and drunk after that.
submitted by Fr. Finton Sta
Wanking Bobby, Newtownabbey, Co. Antrim
Bobby, a regular at the Jordanstown Inn (aka, the Jordy and possibly the last place in the world to play rave music) used to get blind drunk every night, jump on top of a table and start singing a song with a refrain 'I'm a wanker, I'm a wanker'. Needless to say, the rest of the song dealt with the topic matter in pretty graphic detail. I'll post the full version if I can find someone who remembers it.
Sometimes, when he was really wasted, he'd do demonstrations. The locals found it hilarious. It was that kind of place. A few years ago, the place got turned into a swanky style-bar called the Bureau. On one of the first nights, Bobby came in, got pissed, got up as usual, and got to about the third line before he was picked up by three bouncers and physically thrown out the front door. His feet didn't touch the ground. Terrifyingly, this guy is (and that's is, not used to be in some distant past life) a teacher at the local FE college.
submitted by Fr. Finton Stack
Elvis, Grafton Street, Dublin
mid 80s busker on grafton street. Brilliant entertainment. Looked just like Columbo, complete with terriblt coat. Played and sang Elvis songs on a battered acoustic, never contining the complete 6 strings. Was deeply popular after closing time, crowds would gather and shout requests. Only one drawback, he ignored all requests and played his own requests. Only busker I know who never made a single penny.
Submitted by Liam
The Shadow, Newport
The shadow is a distinguished and regal looking ethiopian who walks bare foot through newport , kicking people who get to close. He is called the shadow because he just appears in the background and stares at you, used to be a doctor apparently
Submitted by anon.
Harry Dibble, Newport
Harry has been part of the furniture for many years now. Local folklore tells that Harry was highly paid Gas worker who got involved in an explosion and now walks around the place covered in xmas decorations. Utterly incomprehensible to most , deciperable by some ! When he does talk slow enough he does make sense if you have the patients to listen , otherwise he just goes " uueeghff acchh yueeff!!) The vagrant for the conesieur! may you live long!
Submitted by carl
Frankie is a legend, Newport
He was feared by us when we kids, and as we have grown so has our respect for the legend that is Frankie Lodge. He is well known for his operatic busking in Newport City Centreand for the string keeping his trousers up.
Sumbitted by Paul
Dic Double Dutch, Pwllheli
sadly missed drunk/piss stinker who acquired his name because he spoke a mumbling mixture of Welsh and English (so it sounded double Dutch). Uncannily successful whilst gambling on the horses. Very often taken in by the police (for his own safety when under the influence) they used to dread going through his sticky pockets. A star man.
Submitted by P S
Shakey Hand Man, Cardiff
Shuffles around Cardiff city centre (we used to see him around the City Arms) trying to get Cash out of people.His technique was pretty cunning. Would tap you on the shoulder (if you weren't facing him) shake your hand, then hold his hand out asking for "bus" money. always felt guilty turning him away, seing as I was his new friend and all. Must have done ok out of it though - he always had a tidy waitcoat on over his string vest.
Submitted by Matthew Morris
Wyn Parafin, LLangollen
A local hero around the North Wales town of
LLangollen. It's rumoured that he has never been more than 12 miles away in his 80 or so years. Always found cheering LLangollen Football team on with his own "come on you Hotspurs"?? (LLangollen town - Hotspurs?????), then on past the rugby pitch with Cheers of "heave" and "look at the shoulders on him"?????????. He always stops and talks to everyone who passes him, even if he doesnt know them, after all they all answer to the uniform name of John!and with that voice that can be heard 300 yards away your buisness is never
your own for long. But for all his faults never let it be said that this man has done nothing for the town. He has devoted his life to being at every event, ever held in the town and being the last their clearing up. A truly wonderful man if not a bit confused(and loud). We thank you Wyn
Submitted by Egg & Cress
Johnny BeepBeep, Malahide/Portmarnock, Dublin
Trundles around all day on a kids bike, even though he's around 35. Parallel-parks and reverses it into spaces like a car (also with the appropriate sound effects). Sports a crazy curly mullet, likes to buy tons of apples from the local Centra and has a habit of
beating the s**t out of people who look at him sideways (usally with his "World Cup USA 94" baseball cap.... or a brick). Can usually be seen most Friday nights, belting along the wrong side of the road on his BMX at around 4 in the morning.... and utterly pissed out of his mind
submitted by Andy
Bottle Tipper, Cardiff
Anyone see the guy with the old woman's shooping trolley outside the Millenium Stadium before the Worthless Final. He had a trolley full of bottles of water and proceeded to tip them into the river to a rapturous round of applause.
Apparently it was his hobby and he appeared to think that a few gallons of tap water were going to make all the difference to the cleanliness and quality of the river water.Then off he went to refill the bottles.
submitted by Teviah
Popeye of Bray, Co.Wicklow
His equally fucked up wife walked five feet behind him in a burka. He nor she were muslim. Catholics - same difference.
He swept the streets smoking a pipe, his wife following him, uttered obscenities and gurned. Bohemians fan as I recall. As kids we were amused for hours.
submitted by Mark Hughes' thighs
Baldy Paddy, Co.Wicklow
Would steal all your drink, kick shite out of you and insist you join him in the next pub.
submitted by Mark Hughes' thighs
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