Eamon
Super Freak
Not happy with the January line up at all.
Has lots of money to spend in january?
This ain't good planning in my opinion.
Has lots of money to spend in january?
This ain't good planning in my opinion.
I've just come off the phone to Bill Clinton, who tells me my career shouldn't suffer if I tell you about a particular incident involving marijuana.
Experimenting with drugs is hard to avoid at university, it's part of life, part of growing up. When I was studying in Edinburgh my flatmates managed to get the details of a drug dealer who lived in the depths of Leith, the setting for Trainspotting.
To impress my new friends I volunteered to go and buy it, but then regretted the decision immediately as I headed down to Edinburgh's most deprived area in a taxi at about 10pm.
I was off to visit a drug dealer by the name of Scott.
Terrified, I rehearsed what I might say to him, but everything sounded so wrong coming out of my mouth:
"Scott, would I be correct in assuming you are the possessor of skunk?"
"Scotty, baby, it's Mikey, here for the herb."
I liked the fact he was called Scott and from Scotland. I thought it must make form-filling a bit easier when the answer for "Name" is the same as "Nationality". I thought of making this joke to him as an ice-breaker.
It was freezing as I looked up at Scott's tenement building glowing eerily. The main door was ajar so I pushed it open. It seemed colder inside than outside. He lived on the top floor. I climbed the flights of stone stairs, getting more tense with every step.
Within moments, I was being viewed through the peephole, as I heard a Scottish voice from the other side of the door holler:
"It's Hugh Grant, but he's all Chinesey."
The door opened to reveal a man with a tattoo of the map of Scotland on his face. This was worse than I could have expected.
"All right, pal?" he said before walking away.
I followed him. I followed a man with a Scotland tattoo on his face. I arrived in the living room. The decor was minimal. Not minimalist, which is a design statement - Scott just didn't own anything. There was a nail in the wall. Maybe a picture had fallen off or he was waiting for the right print to go with the room. There was a brown sofa, a chair, a top-of-the-range TV and an overflowing ashtray. The room reeked of spliffs.
The tattoo-faced chap sat on the chair and on the sofa sat a man who was the spitting image of Skeletor from the Eighties children's cartoon 'He-Man And The Masters Of The Universe.'
Next to him, on a side table, I saw the strangest thing. A toaster with the front ripped off exposing the hot grills. There was no toast in it, but it was burning hot.
"All right, mate, I'm Scott," Skeletor said, friendly, smoking a joint.
"Hiya, I'm Michael, your name must make form-filling a bit easier when the answer for 'Name' is the same as 'Nationality'," I said. Why did I say that? I panicked.
Scott laughed unexpectedly. He really laughed. I laughed too.
"That's hilarious," he said in a Scottish accent that nearly required subtitles. "You're hilarious. Are you lookin' to buy some weed?"
This was going really well. I didn't need to ask after all, he had asked me. Tremendous. Then the toaster popped up, with no toast in it.
Scott nonchalantly pushed the toaster button down again. Odd.
"How much do you want?" Scott asked.
"I don't know, whatever is the done thing. Will you take a post-dated cheque?" I said.
This was not a joke; this was my level of naïveté.
"Are you _____kin' jokin?'" Scott said.
I froze. This was an error. I knew I should have brought some cash, but nobody had any. ____t. Then the toaster with exposed burning grills popped again. Scott put it down.
"I'm not joking. I have a guarantee card," I said, potentially making things worse.
Scott just stared at me.
"I tell you what, you've got balls comin' in here with your post-dated cheque. Student *******. That's hilarious. Sit yourself down and have a toke on this."
He then passed me his joint as I took a seat alongside him on the big brown sofa. This was not something I had envisaged. I had never done this before. I didn't even know if I planned on doing it later. I was buying the marijuana for my flatmates to appear cool. I couldn't say no. I took a puff on the joint. It didn't take long for the effects to take hold, and I relaxed and slumped into the chair.
"It's good innit, pal?" Scott said.
"Marvellous," I said, honestly. I was feeling more confident.
"Scott, you must tell me, what's going on with that toaster?"
"Heating's broke," Scott said, matter of factly. His stoned mind had created a heater out of the toaster by peeling off the front panel and popping it down every three minutes. Priceless.
I sat with Scott and the man with a tattoo of Scotland on his face for about an hour telling them all my funny stories. We were in hysterics. I wrote Scott a post-dated cheque, did the deal and stood up to leave.
The tattooed man asked, "Where are you staying in Edinburgh?"
"Would you like me to show you on your face?" I said. We all rolled about laughing again.
I was in a right old state. I could barely see in front of me. I kept laughing to myself about the toaster as I trundled down the stairs. When I reached the bottom, the door was now closed. I pushed and pulled but it didn't budge. I searched for a buzzer and found one. Bingo. I pushed the buzzer and then the door, but it still wouldn't open. So I buzzed and pushed and kicked the door until it finally opened. It transpired I was only on the first floor and my scrambled brain had not completed the final flight of stairs. This was someone's front door. It swung open to reveal an overweight Scottish man in his boxers, not dissimilar to Rab C. Nesbitt.
"What the _____k are you doin' bangin' on ma door?"
He looked about ready to kill me, so I bolted down the stairs and out of the door. I sprinted as far as I could before looking back, terrified I'd see a near-naked Scotsman chasing me. There and then I decided maybe this drugs malarkey probably wasn't for me.
ZODAC sold out?! Sheesh I woulda thought there'd been plenty of time to get that order in today.
Guess I'm off to the bay to find one. How fast did Roboto sell out?
how noticable are the backwards shoulders?
how noticable are the backwards shoulders?
That's what happens when your shoulders are backwards!
Do they bother you in this picture? Does.... anything ELSE bother you.... in this picture?
Do they bother you in this picture? Does.... anything ELSE bother you.... in this picture?
Received my Roboto this morning... and then Roboto received his from Whiplash soon after.
That's what happens when your shoulders are backwards!
Please don't quote the guy...
It defeats the purpose of the "ignore" feature...
Please don't quote the guy...
It defeats the purpose of the "ignore" feature...
Do they bother you in this picture? Does.... anything ELSE bother you.... in this picture?
Well looking from that angle,the shoulders dont look bad at all...Could care less about the humping picture....neinnumb1 is just having some joking fun...I asked those who have the Roboto in hand...nobody is really complaining,so it must be fine
but would anyone notice if Matty didn't say anything... and...... if they did, it would be way later on I would think.
The error was not picked up by Mattel, it was brought to their attention when a review sample was sent out. Toy Guru admitted that they never even received a production sample before they went out for the early reviews. That's not a particularly good thing to admit.
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