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great tramps of our time

Deareg said:
i think he has been dead for years, he always had a scruffy old mongrel with him, there used to be another one who used to ride around longsight on an old pushbike wearing flying goggles and leather helmet and shouting abuse at cars as they passed by
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Yes! old Paddy i remember him from when i lived in s/port in the early 80s
 
Riff said:
Anyone in Newcastle remember Albert? He used to walk round usually stripped to the waist pushing a supermarket trolley. He had a big black beard and sometimes wore National Health glasses.
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yeah I remember him... is he still around?
 
Firky said:
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I can't remember if it was him or one of the other christian ranters, but a while back we were doing a gig round the corner from monument and happened to have a megaphone in there, so this mate of mine got so narked at the ranter he went and grabbed our megaphone and stood next to the bloke with it ripping the piss out of the bloke over the megaphones...

was funny as fuck like :D
 
There was a horrble tramp in huddersfield who smelled of milk, and I called him 'the tramp who smells of milk' and people generally knew who i meant. He would grab your arm and spout racist bile at you whilst emiting a foul rancid milk odour. His patches were in the park near St Peter's buildings or near the bus station.
 
tangerinedream said:
There was a horrble tramp in huddersfield who smelled of milk, and I called him 'the tramp who smells of milk' and people generally knew who i meant. He would grab your arm and spout racist bile at you whilst emiting a foul rancid milk odour. His patches were in the park near St Peter's buildings or near the bus station.
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then one day you find out that he never existed:D
 
We have one in Stoke-on-Trent. Guy dressed in traditional Scottish garb - kilt, sporren, cool socks, hat - the lot! Carries a Sainsbury's orange bag and a huge dirty backpack. Has longish matted hair tied back. Talks to himself and smells - you know, the usual. The city wouldn't be the same without him :)
 
On my daily trip to the bookies with my father, we used to pass two down n outs...

One had a white beard and the other a black one....

My dad used to chuck them some change and i would always say hello to them.....

years later, my dad ends up in AA broken, gets sober....

Age 27 i end up just like my dad in AA broken...

I met this old man with a grey beard who told me if he could get sober anybody could!!!!!!!

Then i realised that this was only the tramp i said hello to all them years ago.......He is 19 years sober and still mourns the loss of his sidekick with the white beard .... Ivor the engine........

He is now a great friend who i love to bits...........:D
 
jugularvein said:
the bearded cowboy who drinks tenants super and shouts at people, my local tramp, was the one who found the body parts left by the camden ripper in the wheelie bins. thankfully he had the presence of mind to take them to the hospital, albeit the tropical diseases hospital...
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He's harmless though. Whenever anyone says anything back he gets all scared. Do you know the Irish guy who I see round Camden, he tells jokes for 50p or the guy with the really bad scab on his neck.
 
Shanksy said:
He's harmless though. Whenever anyone says anything back he gets all scared. Do you know the Irish guy who I see round Camden, he tells jokes for 50p or the guy with the really bad scab on his neck.
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I work in Camden & know Irish Joker (as well as Cowboy man, never realised he found the body parts..). He tells a funny joke.. Always worth 50p
 
The thing with tramps is to look at them, guess their age, then take twenty years off. That's what living on the street does for you.
I remember visiting a unit that dried out and medicated some of these people. It had a sign above the door which read 'The Hell Stops Here'. The guys that had managed to recover their lives left me in no doubt that this is where most 'tramps' are: in Hell.
 
friedaweed said:
Me dad :eek: :D
Haven't seen him in a while :confused:



Jacko Nesbitt's got a new guitar.
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There's a new fella in town with a cardboard guitar. He's no Jacko it has to be said.

The one with the carrier bags used to go passed my flat every sunday after sitting outside the Stanley Dock market. Not seen him in ages. There is a gypsy fella with a bad leg who goes around on a chopper bike though.
 
Dont think he's a tramp (though he can usually be seen sporting the essential tramp accessory; the carrier bag,) but tony beep beep who hangs round old swan can best be described as a mental.
 
Oldham has a reclusuve tramp, he is of a good build, and wild and hairy looking. I think he lives in a hut near High Moor quary at Saddleworth (so he has expensive taste) :D
Don't know his name, does any one know who I mean? he carries a plasic carrier bag, and collects can's too put into his bag, and also picks up loose change.
I have seen him in Barclays bank in Lees cashing his change in and exchanging for 'fifty' squid notes?
He walks back an forth between the quary and Manchester, sticking to the main route.
 
There was a guy in Manchester who used to stand under the Arndale bridge on Market St. with dirty looking dreads who used to "play" a blue/green marbled guitar and scream lyrics of random songs along to himself. He was wicked, not seen him in ages.

"avu9lives," haha. I live just down the road from you, assuming you're from Oldham/Lees area.
 
hmmm, that rings a vague bell for me...

not a famous tramp but I did see something amazing on Oxford road, in about 1988... a classic looking tramp- tweed suit, red face, scraggly grey stubble was walking past the Palace Theatre. he looked a bit drunk. I was watching him. suddenly, he does a backflip. just like that! I don't think he knew anyone was looking at him. he lands perfectly on his feet, and carries on walking as though nothing has happened. it blew my mind- I still think about it at least once a fortnight...
 
snouty warthog said:
hmmm, that rings a vague bell for me...

not a famous tramp but I did see something amazing on Oxford road, in about 1988... a classic looking tramp- tweed suit, red face, scraggly grey stubble was walking past the Palace Theatre. he looked a bit drunk. I was watching him. suddenly, he does a backflip. just like that! I don't think he knew anyone was looking at him. he lands perfectly on his feet, and carries on walking as though nothing has happened. it blew my mind- I still think about it at least once a fortnight...
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:D
That's quality! I love it when stuff like that happens.
 
drcarnage said:
:D
That's quality! I love it when stuff like that happens.
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yeah! another thing happened to me in exactly the same spot- a really wired looking black guy was walking toward me. He was walking straight at me, and I thought 'uh-oh, here comes trouble'. he walked right up to my face, we both stopped, and he looked right at me and said 'MEEEOOOW!'. you know, just like a cat. And then he walked on. I couldn't stop laughing... genius!

I am starting to wonder if Oxford Road is on some freaky ley-line...
 
Everyone who has lived in, and many who have visited Wolverhampton knew of this tramp. He lived on the ring road. A veteran of WW2 apparently. Social services offered him a house, but he preferred his tent. The council provided him with a gas cannister and supported him how they could. Sadly he passed away about a year ago.

Fred's_Gaff,_Ring_Road_St._John's,_Wolverhampton_-_geograph.org.uk_-_575280.jpg
 
snadge said:
Best one I know of is in North Shields, he has a fucking setee outside The Ballarat Pub, all the locals buy him drink.

people take their throw out setees for him all the time cos' the council keep nicking them.
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I was brought up in North Shields in the 1950s. We must have lived on a recognised route north because we often used to see tramps going past. It wasn't that long after the end of the war and I suspect that many of them were unable (for whatever reason) to settle back into life and so they just tramped. My father told me there was a network of doss-houses, each a day's walk apart, around the country. You could stay at each for only 3 days and then you had to move on.

These men (it was always men) were not drunks, they were just tramps. Sometimes they would knock for the odd thing but, apart from that, they were just passing ghosts.
 
IC3D said:
RIP very sad, a lovely man. I hope they do a bench with best of luck on it somewhere
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Horace was great, everyone, and i mean everyone, from Finchley knows him. I'm sure he was around when I was a kid! Last saw him a few weeks back.

RIP Horace - "the best of luck!"
 
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