Just a local and vocal hashtag non-enthusiast. Catchphrase is: "downvoted for use of a hashtag". Nice enough chap. You can't blame him, really—his father (The Captain) used to beat him with hashtags. His mother looks curiously like an elderly Lena Dunham.

Sorry mate—it was just an excuse to do an accent transcription & have a bit of fun. I thought the relative amount of work I put into the transcription would show some affection for all accents, even broad and (relatively) nasal Aussie ones. You're right that the bit about no one possibly liking your accent was a tad…

With the emergence of Whovian's #AmericasFavoriteHashtags account, the A.V. Club realized that they had indeed pushed Whovian too far, and he had now flipped his biscuits till they were a deep and troubled golden brown.

Oi! Yew tayke that behck, yabbo!

Well, if we're trolling, can we give him an accent that no one could possibly like? Broad Australian, for example? "Sone-ya, ai gotchye plahyte o' risoytoy heeyuh! *offers what appears to be risotto* Cam on gal, up on Seanny's knee and let's see if we can foind aas some Ahyes Rock!"

but…but…that's a Cockney accent! *billy boy's head explodes; brains revealed to be made of Yop*

Their skin can be used to make Supple Leather for the riding boots of Fine Gentlemen.

Orange You Glad You're Not Black?

Really? I didn't realize it was worth that. I have all of his stuff on vinyl up to Unplugged. I even collected really nice, old copies of Highway 61 and John Wesley Harding in mono. Those might be worth something too, though perhaps less so now that they re-released the mono mixes.

There are four sides—they had to make it a double album, even though it's not that long. I really enjoy "Shooting Star" from that album, but I don't remember which side it's on.

Let's go hyphenless: nopology.

Ok, I remember none of these songs. My knowledge of pop music gets pretty spotty after 1990 or so, when I stopped watching video shows. Mostly what I remember from 1994 was Dylan unplugged. He had quit smoking for a couple of years and could actually hit high notes in songs like "With God On Our Side". I still…

Clearly your friend never met Eric Clapton. When I ran into him, he was wearing nothing but epaulettes that were welded to his shoulders. "Greetings Earth Man," he said, "I am Clap-tonn. Smell my mighty anus and weep!" And I did. True story!

You were in the port ay Leith? Strollin' doon the Fit ay the Walk wi the other gadgies?

I haven't seen him in anything since Toga 2000.

I had a vial of very strong liquid LSD in 1994. Sadly, peak acid is over, at least for me. It's just like Dicky D. says: you can't have pan-cakes in the morning unless you're prepared to call Clapton in the afternoon.

I'm sure I read myself into Ethan Hawke's character in Reality Bites. He had that narcotic sense of potential, even if he wasn't actively turning it into actual. I was also smoking a lot of Drum & weed, reading books and writing songs. He worked at a convenience store or gas station; I worked as a janitor in a…

Well since everyone else is being candid: I was 20 and for the early part of 1994 I was living in a tent on the west coast of Vancouver Island, huddled around a fire, eating canned beans, drinking cheap beer and trying to stay warm. My hands turned orange from all the campfire smoke. When I left, I drove my '75…

*adds "old as the balls of ultimate oldness" to his file on Core Concept*

Great review as usual, IK—especially the part where you wrote, "Jesus H.T. Jiggletits Christ, just hire me already you fucking bastards!"