After the nutter in Sainsbury’s yesterday, I seem to be attracting more of the same. They’re all over the park, nutters. The park is FULL OF THEM. It’s like a mental institution overspill with swings. Don’t get me wrong, they’re nice nutters. They just talk to themselves or wear massive headphones that aren’t connected to anything while singing loudly or they stand there shouting “Fuck off” at the sky. There’s nothing wrong with any of that. I think the sky can be a right prick too sometimes. But a couple of these nutters have turned out to be a fairly major part of my dog walking day.
One is a man that I have affectionately dubbed Naked Arse On Fire Walking Man. Basically he wears only shoes and jeans and walks around the park very quickly and awkwardly like, I dunno, his arse was on fire or something. He also wears sunglasses, no matter how grey and rainy it is, and several big gold medallions. This is how he is every time I see him which is nearly every day. He also talks to himself but, just to make it slightly more glamorous, he talks to himself in Italian. It’s very continental. The thing is, when he sees me he waddles up, talks to Jerk very cheerily in Italian and then, I assume, asks me a question. The thing is, I can’t speak Italian so I never know what the question is. He’ll give me a few seconds to try to work it out but then gives me a “you’re an idiot” look and waddles off again. He then walks round the park in big circles for at least an hour. I’ve seen him several times this week and the snow has not made him dig out his old coat or a nice jumper. He must be freezing. If not, he’s dead but he’s such a nutter that he refuses to accept it. I like him.
This blog was much longer but Facebook made it disappear. I’ll be writing my blogs on a word document from now on and tomorrow I’ll write up the rest of this blog. There’s another nutter I want to tell you about. He’s called Mr. Boring. You don’t want to miss something as exciting as Mr. Boring.