This house is only ten feet wide, but it still thinks it’s fat. Said to have been built for the purpose of blocking a neighbor’s view of the waterfront, this is now the second-narrowest house in the world (the first is in Ireland)

An example of Art Moderne architecture, this monstrosity has been referred to as the pregnant building since its completion in 1971 – back in the day, there was a lollipop-esque statue across the way; imagine:

“So, I’ll meet you at the pregnant building.”
“The what?”
“You know, the pregnant building – near the lollipop!”

Weird, Boston, weird.

Art really doesn’t get much worse than this. The painting below, for example, was found in the garbage outside Mr. Winslow’s house. Apparently, after learning of his work’s inclusion in the museum, he offered up even more garbage! Art so bad it’s good.

In the 1880s, a fellow named Eben Norton (who, incidentally, discovered baking powder), was convinced that the Vikings had sailed up the Charles River and settled in Boston. Maybe he was right, or maybe he was delusional, but either way, the end result is this bizarre statue of Leif Erikson.

You heard me. Book. Of. Skin. Book of skin. Apparently Mr. Allen, before his demise, requested that his book, a deathbed confession to the warden of the Massachusetts state prison where he had been held, be bound in his own skin. And so, the skin was taken from his back, treated like leather, and the book was bound. The bookbinder, Peter Low, at first was not aware of the material he had been given for binding – imagine figuring that one out!

A couple of years ago, the powers that be were awfully close to tearing down this Beacon Street landmark. And then some college kids, and a Facebook group, and a whole lot of others championed the cause and fought for the sign to stay. It’s damn ugly, and even worse now that it’s all digitized, but it helps you find your way home at night.

Come one, come all to the freakshow – I mean, the Warren Anatomical Museum, which houses Phineas Gage’s skull + 14,999 other curiosities.

Do you think Starbucks intentionally leased this property for the kettle or was it a coincidence? And how come Teavana didn’t snatch the location up? This giant tea kettle has been around since the glorious days of the Oriental tea company and can hold two hundred and twenty seven gallons, two quarts, one pint, and three gills. It’s at its most wonderful in winter, when it actually steams!

What’s wackier than a row of ducklings following their proud mother down a Boston street? Granted, most of us know that the statues are based on the children’s book by Robert McCloskey, but to the uninitiated, these random duckies sure seem strange!