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

*splutters, twitches, and crawls ungracefully onto all fours and thence to her feet*

That was appalling. Where are my samples? I thought there was supoosed to be NO LEVITY on these premises!

Can't anyone see this woman needs a drink? For heaven's sake, this place has terrible service.

TwoTrees, I don't believe anyone's roped you into, I mean asked you to chair a committee yet. I think you ought to hire and supervise the help. Do I have a second for that motion? (Do I have to wait until my kids leave teenhood before we can have musical tastes in common?)

Well I for one thought you looked very graceful on all fours, as lithe as an antelope bounding across the grassy expanse of the Serengeti. Granted, it's possible the sheepskin coat is influencing my judgement almost as much as the , but I for one was very impressed.

I'll have you know ma'am that I couldn't levitate if someone strapped me to a Saturn V and lit the blue touchpaper. However I shall raise the subject of this wrangle at the next meeting of the Supernatural Events & Denims Subcommittee, so we can have a definitive ruling on it. You may be right tho, I don't suppose anyone would be particularly impressed to look up from their plum pudding only to see a kilt-clad Scotsbeetle hovering above them.

*Wumbeevil proudly points to the walls which he has just finished papering*

There, isn't that a masterpiece? They don't call me the Jackson Pollock of wallpapering for nothing you know. Now all we need are a few of those carpet swatches and we can tile the floor as well.

*looks at the samples pasted to the wall with a very dubious expression. That is, Lil has a dubious expression, not the samples. Nor was this statement meant to imply that the samples were pasted up by someone wearing a dubious expression, although, knowing the paster, this was probably the case*

That is far too jolly. Take it off. The wallpaper.

*hands Lil the much-needed drink, but can't decide which one so he gives her and a bucket.*

I thought you knew only too well what I was wearing. Are you telling me that you swooned at my dubious expression?

*looks at his masterpiece and sighs*

They said the same thing to Michaelangelo you know. Lil, there's nothing us BOFs like more than a good whinge, so wouldn't it be better to leave it? A lot of people are particularly unhappy about the papers from Florida I hear, so we should certainly leave them.

*sees look on Lil's face and starts removing the wallpaper for health reasons*

I'll second your motion WM. Don't the kids like Doris Day then?
"NOW I shout it from the HIGHEST hill, EVEN to the golden DAFFODIL...
*breaks into a doo-wop version and continues stripping paper*

Is this stripped wallpaper look something to do with minimalimmmmolisomething thats all the rage they (the little ones, the feeble people who know little and care less, the 'young') tell me of?

**wonders how to tempt the trees to the snug where the fire is in dire need of refuelling. Plans dastardly act involving witty and her super sharpened inter-round number boards**

Dreadful news, appalling calamity, chaps. In making my paltry effort wandering around mumbling about this place trying to get just one or two more customers, it appears that publicity is to be forthcoming! There are millions, well thousands, perhaps a few hundred, scores, dozens, a few, one or two dispossessed BOFs out there. Is there never to be any peace? Further committees will be needed! A rabble will need to be raised! Perhaps. Next week, maybe.

Hey, Titania, that was me. I must have done it right!

At the risk (what risk?) of boring you all further, I have detailed the Committee structure on the BOF Inn page. If you feel that you, or anyone, has been forgotten/misplaced/wrongly assigned, please let us know. We also have Munchkin, Duncan Jones and Guru Star wandering about the place with no assigned tasks. This cannot be right.

I found that since I never stopped listening to rock, whether classic or modern, I always had a connection there.

The only time when it got rocky was when my son turned over to country and western for a couple of years. I like the balladeers such as Cash and Twitty, but the twangy, whiney stuff just grates. I tried singing Friends in Low Places with him, but he just felt invaded.

I say, if you're going to whine do it at the top of your voice and thrash guitars.

Neptune would not approve of using me for fire fodder. I will, however, be glad to ask Asteroid Lil for some of her colored pinecones.

I'll see your rabble and raise you one.

I see, that in my absence, I was seconded into existence as bar staff manager. Well, let's see what I can come up with.

Since I am a committe of one, I'll have a vote and then argue with myself about it.

THAT would be boring.

Since we've all been immortalized on the BOF Inn page, it only seems fair that we publicly acknowledge our memberships on Our Spaces.

Oh, Lil... while you're designing stuff, how about a logo, button or sign we can put on our pages. We can all give you our long drawn out opinions on exactly what it should look like.

Two Trees: Sadly, I do have one rock 'n roll connection to my offspring. For some reason, they both got hooked on VH1's specials on Meatloaf and The Monkees. My god... The Monkees. I'm so ashamed.

*desperately carries on siging Secret Love to drown out the Monkee sounds in his head*

That's one I owe you WM!

Lil, as spokesperson on gender issues, would you tell Pheroneous I'm male before WM starts wandering around the pub in a bikini as well.

With all these boxing bouts going on, couldn't we put the leftover ears in little bowls on the bar for hard of hearing patrons to use?

I do wish the Monkees had not been mentioned. It is not going to leave my head all day now! Why were they so small, anyway, stature wise. And sex changes. Here. Good grief. Used to be a chap knew which side his bread was buttered, so to speak.

There is a young lady outside, says she's from the Village! Bearing gifts! I would tell her to bugger off!, but there are chocolates in the basket, and I have reason to believe that there are those here open to bribery on that account. It appears we are No. 26 in this village, thankfully tucked away in a back street, far from the madding crowd. Now, there was a film!

Good basket idea, in fct it would be a bit eerie without it!

*Sits on a wobbly bar stool, which promptly falls off.*
Monkee sex change? I never heard about it. I just saw Davy, Peter, and Mickey on TV, and they were still males so maybe it was Mike. Or to be as contrary as possible, another group entirely.

*Opens her coat to expose a monkees tee shirt.*
I'd be more ashamed of liking the Backstreet Boys or Kid Rock.

*picking up bar seat, which had been rolling around the lino floor in ever-decreasing circles until it finally fell over*

You still watch the Monkees? *sniffs* I only watch boring and edifying noncommercial programs about minor flora and fauna. When I watch at all, of course. It's better to do difficult crossword puzzles. In blue ink.

And I feel very suspicious about having a whole rabble get loose in here before we settle the matter of interior decoration. Wumbeevil, you missed a piece over there.

*Wumbeevil looks up from his multicolored crayoned crossword, shrieks in horror as he spots the offending item. Quickly looks away from The Monkees teeshirt, and spots the piece of 70s black, purple and red disco wallpaper. Gets out his Swiss Army Wallpaper Scraper and proceeds to remove the paper, whilst twirling his white jacket around his head.*

Please stop mentioning the Monkees, I've succumbed and have now got the theme going thru my head...

Here we come, shufflin' down the street.
We get the funniest looks from every kid we meet.

Hey, hey, we're the old farts, and kids say we get them down,
That we're so bloody boring, they always wear a frown.

Look what you've done now Two Trees, I hope you're proud of yourself. Aaargh! here comes the Saddam Hussein line...

*Stares at Wum, one eyebrow raised*
Time to lay your bikini on the line, Wum. You know an great deal about the States to be a Scot.

You are Roger Moore and I claim my free pair of electric eyebrows.

For my sins, the local cable co. used to give us CNN's "international" service. The one where the second last item was about a Wyoming sheep farmer being married to his fav woolly wonder by an Elvis impersonator, followed by, "and finally 3000 people were killed somewhere outside the US in a gas explosion at a bean eating festival. One American suffered an ingrown toenail."

...and then there's Pat Robertson's "dark land"

Lay my bikini on the line? Is this a new aversion therapy cure for cokeheads?

*Wumbeevil decides that the wallpaper samples might make good beermats and proceeds to cut them to size with his Swiss Army Knife Hexagonal Beermat-making attachment, hoping that Lil isn't going to kill him for ruining her samples.*

*grudgingly* I did get the chance to see the samples on the wall, anyway. There was one that looked like it had already been up for 35 years. It was a sort of brownish mauve and gray stripe with abstract flecks breaking across the stripes. The kind of thing you stare hard at and see faces and the outlines of countries in Africa.

I mean, it would give some of them over there *points with chin* something to talk about.