Friday, August 28, 2009

Some of my favorite crazies

1) The goth dyke that pukes in her (incongruently) sequined purse on the midnight CalTrain. Seen her twice so far, usually this happens on a Tuesday or Wednesday. You go gurl!

Is the purse a remnant from her life before she became a goth? Did she steal it from a sorostitute for the sole purpose of holding her vomit on the ride home? Cause that would make her my hero.

2) The cougar I keep running into at Safeway at 1AM. She is often dressed like she just got off work at the strip club, I swear to god I didn't know anyone could pair dayglow spandex miniskirts and various animal print (zebra, leopard, dalmation?!) hooker heels on a regular basis. Tonight she was painfully hitting on (like usual) the poorMexi-checker: "...That's what I tell my son. Who's in college. Goodnight Darlin'. "

At least she's owning it. Next time I promise photo documentation.

3) In my apartment complex, the yuppie dad who is father to "the screamer". A child who I thought was being bludgeoned with a wasp nest full of rusty nails, but apparently "just doesn't like riding in the car". Seriously, I have never heard a kid scream like that, the first couple times I thought about calling the police.

The same drama has unfolded multiple times: the father carries the screaming child towards the minivan. The child screams. The father tries to reason with said child for various amounts of time. Child still screams. Repeat ad naseum.

I hope the kid is autistic or has some nerve disorder. I've contemplated leaving a note on the winshield imploring them to seek counseling. Or maybe quit sodomizing their child in the minivan? I haven't decided yet.

4) Lenny, our upstairs neighbor from the house on Crestmere. World champion kickboxer (seriously), personal trainer, salsa dance instructor, loud porn enthusiast. Every day the salsa music would play for hours. Then quiet for a few moments. Cue the loud porn for about 5 minutes. Lather, rinse, repeat.

5) No one can top the crazy that lived next door at U-Place in CoMO. We called him the mathematician. He was a conspiracy theorist and watched FOX news and argued loudly with the TV every night. And he was a big crazy face mathematician. John Nash style, but on meth.

All of these crazy faces: "puking dyke", "Safeway cougar", "yuppie dad/screamer", Lenny, and the "mathematician" have made my life more interesting in their own way.

And for that I would like to say thank you.


Lindsey412 said...

Ed, I freaked the FUCK out at your post. It was seriously the best thing I've read EVER!

Maybe someday we'll be reunited and go crazy-spotting together.

Ed Grow said...


I kind of posted it to draw you into a comment thread with me. You know we love the crazies!

I think I come by it naturally: my Mom and I would go to WalMart and play the "what syndrome does this fugly person have". Good use of an MD.


craiger said...

Oh the crazies of our lives! They certainly make the rest of us look almost normal!

Lindsey412 said...

You KNOW that I'm gonna write my own version here in a few days. Ode to Ed!

craiger said...

Let the crazy war between Ed and Lindsey begin!

Anonymous said...

seriously, the guy masturbated right above your room and his name is zennie....zennie.....
on a more personal note.....i miss you and i miss you as a roommate.