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In homage to Madame Bitters' thread...I feel, given the twisted, cynical nature of humans, this thread has plenty of legs.

I'm going to have to go with Battling Robots. I begged and badgered my parents for this piece of plastic for approximately three months prior to Christmas, when I was a wee lad of about nine. To describe it: it is two robots, a pale blue one, and an orange one, in a boxing ring, controlled by two handles and a mechanical system underneath. The two would battle each other (assuming a smaller brother or friend was present), and the winner was the one who caused the other robot's head to explode off with an uppercut. On TV it looked outstanding, and I wanted one. I promised my mother I would even play it with my brother. I promised to be a model son for ever more. But it was expensive, and my parents were always broke. You should have seen my little face when, on Christmas morn, I opened a massive present, and there it was in all it's glory. My dad and I put it together (okay, he did), and I played it with my brother.

It was crap.

I apologise to my parents for not believing you.

Iain

And here I was trying to be positive.....

I got a Bible one x-mas. I was probably about 8 or 9 when I got it.

It wasn't even a childrens' Bible (the kind with colorful drawings and big print) which wouldve been bad enough.

No, this was one of those Bibles that you find in the bedside table drawer in a hot-sheet motel. The pages were stained(!) and the whole thing stank like, well I'm sure you can guess what it smelled like.

It was from my uncle (who was a drug addict at the time) who had "found" Jesus and he was anxious to spread the message. So I had to act like it was the best gift ever.

The good thing was is that he hadn't used for for over 10 years until he got run over by a truck.

My youngest daughter died two days before Christmas in 1994. Worst week of my life.

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Quote: IainB

In homage to Madame Bitters' thread...I feel, given the twisted, cynical nature of humans, this thread has plenty of legs.

I'm going to have to go with Battling Robots. I begged and badgered my parents for this piece of plastic for approximately three months prior to Christmas, when I was a wee lad of about nine. To describe it: it is two robots, a pale blue one, and an orange one, in a boxing ring, controlled by two handles and a mechanical system underneath. The two would battle each other (assuming a smaller brother or friend was present), and the winner was the one who caused the other robot's head to explode off with an uppercut. On TV it looked outstanding, and I wanted one. I promised my mother I would even play it with my brother. I promised to be a model son for ever more. But it was expensive, and my parents were always broke. You should have seen my little face when, on Christmas morn, I opened a massive present, and there it was in all it's glory. My dad and I put it together (okay, he did), and I played it with my brother.

It was crap.

I apologise to my parents for not believing you.

Iain

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They were called..Rockem Sockem Robots....

My worse Christmas was being admitted to Ireland Army Hospital for pneumonia. Had to stay there all Christmas. Had a bunch of drunks from the local VFW visit us in the ward to cheer us up and managed to get a shot of brandy from one of the guys who looked like Sargent Bilko.

The nurse on duty almost had a kitten when she smelled the brandy on my breath and told me I could get an 'Article 15'
(official infraction) for having alcohol in the ward.

I told her to fuck off 'cause I felt like shit from having to be there anyway. I swear she took revenge by making me drink some God awful medicince.