How the World's Most Boring International Dull Men's Club Lives

In a world where everyone strives for bright emotions and loud events, there is a corner where boredom is elevated to a cult. This international community of dull men is The Dull Men's Club - a place where the mundane becomes art, and the most ordinary hobbies receive ovations. What makes this club so special? Let's figure out how the most boring community in the world lives and why it attracts millions of people.

Members of the International Dushnil Club tell each other various mundane and uninteresting events and sleep-inducing stories. For example, once the groups spent three weeks discussing how to hang a roll of toilet paper correctly. And another time the bores compared the speed of windshield wipers on different cars.

The club doesn't just exist — it thrives. Its motto is "The more boring, the better." There's no room for bright emotions, emoticons, or exclamation marks. Members pride themselves on their ability to find joy in the mundane and share it with the world.

The club has strict rules of conduct. For example, they include the following clause: "Messages containing avatars or emoticons are considered too interesting and will most likely be deleted." Sometimes situations arise when the rules seem too draconian to someone and this leads to disputes. Of course, the most boring in the world.

The Dull Men's Club are people who find pleasure in routine. They collect unusual but incredibly boring things: from vintage washing machines to manhole covers. One of the members, Peter Willis, even received the title of "the most boring man in Britain" from the Daily Mirror for his passion for photographing letterboxes. For him, it's not just a hobby, but a way to see beauty in the everyday.

The club members love discussing everyday topics: which type of oatmeal is best, how to properly sort waste, or why telegraph poles in Wales deserve a separate society. They compete to see whose post will be the most “stuffy”, and the most boring stories receive prizes. For example, one of the club’s heroes told how he spent three hours choosing the perfect ballpoint pen in a stationery store. And, you know, it was the hit of the year.

The Boring Men's Club is everything we try to escape from in life. It is a place for unusual hobbies, pointless collections, obscure interests, studying insignificant and ordinary things. It is a place to celebrate the ordinary, the mundane, the sleepy and indifferent. But why all this, what do the members of this stuffy gathering, which now has millions of participants, lack?

One of the club's founders, known by the nickname Grover Click (carefully chosen for its dullness, by the way), urges us not to rush to conclusions. The club's members are perfectly normal people. Their communication is a gentle antidote to the inflated influencers and the often toxic internet. It is a bastion of emphatic politeness, a call to return to the ordinary and normal.

But above all, it is a quirky, deeply ironic, self-effacing and sarcastic humor that only intelligent people can understand. The group, which is personally moderated by Grover Click, has particularly strict rules. It is called "A safe place to comment on everyday things." Exclamation marks, according to the man, are "too exciting." In his "territory," the rules prohibit ridicule and politics, religion and swearing.

According to the moderator of the Australian branch of Bt Humble, there is a “level of excellence”. It is a kind of competitive dullness. Boring people try to outdo each other to top the rating of the most stuffy conversationalists. At the same time, Bt Humble is forced to admit that there is no strictly established scale of dullness, since in this area everything is relative.

At first glance, The Dull Men's Club seems odd. Why waste time discussing doorknobs or old gas pumps? But therein lies their philosophy: in a world where everyone is chasing novelty, boredom becomes an act of rebellion. The members of the club find peace in simple things. They do not strive to impress, but simply enjoy the moment.

Psychologists confirm that routine activities such as collecting or studying trivia can reduce stress and even increase creativity. In this sense, “stuffy people” are ahead of everyone else – they know how to enjoy the little things that others don’t even notice.

The community is growing because people are tired of the endless stream of news and sensationalism. The Dull Men's Club offers an alternative - a world where you can be yourself, even if your passion is collecting rusty nuts.

It all started back in the early 1980s in New York City. Grover Click, Andrew McKean in the world, who recently turned 85, was sitting at the counter of the New York Athletic Club with friends. They were reading magazine articles about boxing, fencing, judo, and wrestling. “One of my buddies said, ‘Dude, we don’t do any of that. Why the hell do we need that?’” They realized they were boring, decided to embrace their boringness, and be proud of it.

As a joke, they founded the "Boring Men's Club," where they did very dull, boring things. The group rented a tour bus, but never went anywhere. Grover Click fondly remembers this moment as one of the most stuffy in the history of the group:

The driver didn't understand anything - he decided that he was dealing with crazy people. But the club members were delighted with the useless, and most importantly, extremely boring evening.

In 1996, Grover Click moved to the UK. That same year, his computer-minded nephew suggested creating an official website for The Dull Men's Club. It's still up and running. The club's main Facebook group alone has 1.9 million members.

The club publishes an annual calendar of pointless and boring hobbies and has published a book about the history of the community. There are two awards for tediousness: Anorak of the Year in the UK and DMC Person of the Year for the rest of the world. The club's membership continues to grow. The Australian branch, led by Bt Humble, is a recent addition. It currently has 8,000 members, but they are as boring as they can be, even according to their British colleagues.

Some may think of the Boring Men's Club as a joke or a strange whim, but its members find support, irony, and a rare sense of normality in this community. What do you think: is boredom something to run away from, or can it be a form of calm and even inner freedom?