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

* A greasy old man lurches out towards the front counter. You notice that his remaining strands of hair are swept over his cranium disguising nothing, the medallion he wears resembles a car wheel cover and his 11 o’clock shadow really needs the services of a hedge-trimmer to make any real headway. Which is quite a relief really, or otherwise you would be confronted with the bulbous warts which ‘landscape’ his face. His one shot at being a respectable businessman comes in the form of a suit, a Yellow & Maroon Suit, the kind of suit most people would be offended to be buried in, no matter wear around... *

* He leers forward to you... *

If you like to fill out the form, with the same particulars as above. We must also have your full payment up-front...

* He leans over drooling, as you complete the form... *

Who knows, I might even keep you just for my little old self... HEE,HEE,HEE,HEE,HEE !!!!

*the door swings open silently to reveal a wall of black... after a monment, the wall turns from reading the sign above the door, and reveals itself to be not a wall, but a man of Viking proportions- attired tastefully in black silk shirt, slacks, and trench coat.*

*it speaks, causing the air to vibrate*

26years old, 6'6", 260#, dark blue eyes, dark hair. reluctantly american.

i like animals, ALL british comedy, travel, watersports, campfires, being part of a team.

i am looking for a companion who will be willing to accept what time i have to offer, tell me when i'm wrong, smack me when i whine, and not laugh when i get jealous.

i abhor ignorance...
-and those little wax fruits they decorate restaurants with...

You would be wanting a man now I suppose...

I'll have to think for a while....
OK I've thought....
YES!!!!!

*sweeping in*

Female, 36, brown hair, eye colour mixed (you should have heard the discussion last time I updated my passport: "..sort of blue-grey, or maybe green-grey, and then you've got that circle around the pupil in brown-yellow..")

Interests: Flamenco dance, of course! Music, preferrably classical, books, mostly crime/detective stuff...

Incurable optimist.

* The door blows open, not because anyone needed to walk through it but just because the door felt this was an appropriate thing to do. Then a liquid so dark that it is almost clear pours out of thin air as if someone had just given the thin air a glass of this liquid but the air didn't like that person and slowly poored it out to spite them. Does this liquid flow down like any good liquide should though? Happily obeying the laws of gravity? Of course not, it flows up as if being poored out near the ground in a very localized reversal of gravity. Lucky for the ceiling the liquid seems to have found an invisble jello mold in the shape of a man and forms then solidifies. The man blinks once, then again then noticing his toes and nose have traded places scoules. The parts reluctantly rearrange themselves. He regards the old man. *

Nearly thrice a decade, hobbies include dancing with munchkins, having arguements with inantimant objects, photographing dark rooms without a flash, the curve of a woman's neck where it meets her shoulders, and square dancing in zero G.

My health is exceptional *arm falls off* except when it's not.

My mind is intact *tacks fall out of his ear* most of the time.

What say you?