h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

*comes out of studio just a bit bleary-eyed*

*stops to reach down and tickle Springie, who wriggles and meeps and nearly cuts Lil's throat with a flailing claw*

Yikes! Well, that must be why she likes Styx. He gets inside her guard, so to speak...

Talking American politics, are we? Anybody care to speculate on what kind of food Pat Buchanan is? I think he's a banana split, myself. Ralph Nader is a nice healthy salad with no dressing.

Matina, I would like you to make two batches of mbougatses this afternoon, please, while you continue to serve the guests as they come and go. I would like some OJ and a donut just now. Thank you.

I am so grateful to have a maid again. Now we can all revert back to our natural decadence.

Hi Lil! Nice to see you taking a break from w*rk..

Yes, I'm afraid we'll be very comfortable indeed, having Martina serve us...

...sorry, Matina, of course...

Oh, btw, could I have a Y of champagne please, Matina...

The idea came to me, while I was talking with Lintilla at the banquet rooms, to have a fashion show here at the Gallery. It wouldn't be until October now, because I have a business trip in mid-September, but we could all dress up for it or try on new things that other researchers bring. There could be models and mannequins. We have plenty of guest rooms for changing and putting racks of clothes. The veranda would make a good catwalk, and special clothes could be shown in the gallery!

I'm off to run some errands but I'll be back later. Let me know what you think...

{[B17]}

Hiya, all.

'Natural decadence", I love the sound of that, Lil. That would mean that the Puritans had a mutated gene, of course, to account for the work ethic.

Matina, may I have a glass of champagne, please?

G'night all!

*drifting off, in her usual v.e.l.manner*

G'morning Martina, ouzo please. Ice? Certainly. Food? Certainly not.

Settles down in the sun on the veranda thinking of London in the 70s.

Your cleaner was Russian, your grocer was Somali, your deli man was
Israeli, your landlord was Italian, your laundry guy was Philippine, your bartender was NZ/Australian, your favourite diner owner was Greek, the watch-seller on your corner was Senegalese, your last cabbie was Pakistani, your newsagent was Indian, your favourite falafel guy was Egyptian and your clothes were a legendary fashion disaster.

* stereotypical American strolls in carrying a twelve pack of stereotypical American beer *
Greetings all, I'd love an opportunity to Videotape the fashion show.
Will this be an outdoor affair?

I had planned to use the veranda as the catwalk -- perhaps we can have a garden party below -- we have stairs at both ends, so we can all move around freely.

On a more sober note, I have been following the news about the Russian submarine. I have claustrophobia; I can think of nothing more horrible than what has happened to more than 100 men over the past few days. *looks out at open sky*

Matina, may I have an Obscure Canadian beer? The mbougatses smell heavenly -- you're using a slightly different combination of spices than I do!

A last the Russians have asked Nato for assistance. A few days too late I guess.

It makes me wonder as to the value of state secrets as compared to the value of 116 lives.

*notices that while the frame and left hand windows are classic goo, the right hand window is alabaster*

Now, ~that's~ interesting.

Headline read in the Evening Standard (someone across the tube carriage from me had one) Oxygen Link to Sub fails in bad weather (or that was the meaning in what was there anyway). A sad sad situation, I hope they manage to get those people out.

In (slightly) happier news from NZ/Aus. A Kiwi girl who survived a fire at an Aussie backpacker's hostel last month - 15 died - survived an Aussie bus crash overnight - two dead.

*Matina brings fresh mbougatses and a pot of green tea out to the veranda, then goes off to houseclean*

I wonder whatever happened to Bahb? Remember, he fell out of a rift an concussed himself on the veranda. And then he disappeared out of the guest room. Oh well, we'll always have the blue dust.

What? You saved some ??? Where???

*floating in*

G'morning all!

Matina, could I have a café mélange and a fresh mbougatse, please...

A bacon butty and a carbonated soft drink containing vegetable extracts please Matina.

FLAP-FLAPP
*comes in and goes to kitchen* Bacon! *grabs two pieces* Good! *eats and washes face and hands. goes into salon*

Owner buddy comes back real soon. But will he stay?
*tickles sloth to make her move over then lies down next to her* If Quorthon doesn't stay, maybe Styx goes too. Nothing to do but make mischief in campaign, heh heh heh.
*pulls whiskers thoghtfully*