Originally posted by @pap
Everyone’s a little crazy in their own way. Some people warm teapots , others roll cheese down a hill, but we’ve all got our quirks, and probably quite a few.
I love weird. Always used to find it both hilarious and a badge of honour when I’d got labelled “odd” in less civilised places.
My starter for ten.
I am weird because I used to laugh at Richard Whiteley’s jokes in Countdown. No-one understood it. Everyone else in the house would be groaning along with the audience. I’m not sure whether I actually liked the jokes more, or the fact that he kept persisting despite dying a metaphorical death every single day.
I’m weird because of that. Are you weird, and why?
Are you seriously suggesting that a good pot of tea can be produced without warming the pot? Weirdo.
We all have our quirks. My ever-loving wife (using that expression, pinched from Damon Runyon, could class as one of mine) considers that I have more quirks than the quirkiest thing on the planet Quirk. Here are two of them.
First, I like to abbreviate names of things, places, etc. using the last syllable of their name. Thus, I might do some food shopping in the 'bury’s, the 'trose or the 'sco, though I’d generally steer clear of the last-mentioned. This habit infuriates my ever-loving wife and her daughters, who tell me to speak properly.
Second, I like to invent my own rhyming slang for things, often made up on the spot. I might, for instance, need to pick up a few Zolas whilst I’m at the 'bury’s, or a bottle of the old Gertrude should I venture into the 'bins. This habit infuriates my ever-loving wife and her daughters, who tell me to speak properly.