When do we decide if someone is batshit crazy?

When do we decide if someone is batshit crazy?

I know. That term is politically incorrect. And I am not applying it to those with true mental illnesses. I’m talking about those times when eccentricity goes a wee bit over the top. And stays there. You’ve doubtless met others who have decided to become eccentric, perhaps even the town eccentric, but it was clearly a conscious act on their part. Those people. True eccentricity, I believe, is unconscious. The person may not know their actions are in fact, not in societal expectations. Those people are fantastic and bring color to life. Back to being batshit crazy. There is a…

Don’t be jealous

One freak has continually eluded my camera. Three times now. I will persevere. Anyway, here is the breakdown of her attire, and I use that term loosely; she looks rather loose. Bedraggled and pallid, fake, leopard-fur jacket. The type of fabric one would see on the loincloth of a "native" in a B-movie. Shop-worn, straight-leg jeans, so tight you could have hidden a copy of The Economist in her lumpish cameltoe. I must qualify something. Her porcine legs were extremely dense, so the "straight leg" was not so much straight, as it was a polynomial approximation of a Jordan arc.…