We went on a neighborhood housewalk this weekend which turned out to be a great way to meet crazy people. To wit:

1) The young woman who yelled "What's the score?!" to the guy in the van who had the Bears game on the radio and then commented "He must not habla Ingles" when he didn't respond (even though he was listening to the Bears game). When she asked him again and he responded she said "Good job." She then complained about how steep the stairs were inside the next house and said "Ooh, a little loud for me," when looking at the paint in a bedroom, even though the owner was next to her (and the house was not for sale).

2) The older gentleman with long fire-red dyed hair, multiple hoop earrings and who wore delicate women's sandals who was talking about his wife, who couldn't make it.

3) The couple whose basement was an ill-informed straight person's idea of what homosexuality must be like, decorated with about 30 posters of Judy Garland and "The Wizard of Oz" playing on the TV with no one watching.

4) The guy in the argyle sweater vest and boater hat who wasn't really crazy in and of himself but there was also a guy wearing a very prominent bolo tie with an all-maroon outfit and black socks and sandals and when you put those two together you have about one crazy person.