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

Tis a tad chilly but, by the power of temporal physics only I know and fully control, ZE VORLD VILL BE MINE, oh sorry, anyone I think I'll just nip back and pick up my spare shirt before returning to the Snug. I hope that Pheroneous is ready to apologise.
Now I know you are a gardening chap, but don't you find it damp down here?

The 'lectric hearth throws a nice constant even heat and you learn where the warm spots are in the room and where its good to grow mushrooms.

Sew, wen ya go wee ta Glesga, willya be packing your hassanack?
Wumbeevil is from Glasgee..is that anywhere near ta where yull be at?

(Munchkin has had that same smiling but dumbfounded look on his face for several days now - it's the langwitch barrier again I know it is - so I've stashed a new 'Handy Canadian Phrases' book behind the bar over there on your left...)
<~-

Munchkin, I fear, may be lost to us for the duration. There is also a danger that, when he returns, he may have seasonally acquired yet more gaudy waistcoats.

And gained several pounds judging by the sweeties and choc's he was stuffing into himself over at the Cossetted Porpoises xmas eve.

Corpulent. But gaily clad! There are times when it is necessary to remind oneself that a little extra portliness in a fellow adds gravitas, distinction and presence.

Not to say lagging, in these cold times. I shall have to have a to keep the blood above freezing point!

Good point! And aside from Manchester's terminal confusion how was the holiday?

Having gained a stone so far over the season of debauchery, I for one am happy to be classed as having extra "gravitas, distinction and presence".....but especially the lagging as this doesn't seem the best night for going out.....err that's why I started drinking at 6pm.

Put two seats aside for me at that meet-up Munchkin.

*enters, rolling a wirewheel and tyre from the Jag*
Evening all.. Getting ready for the New Year's Eve festies are we.. Wha'..? Oh this. It's a tyre off the Jag. I figger the air in this thing is circa 1968, a very good year for air y'know. Tonite, if anyone feels the need to breathe pre-disco, pre-GulfWar, pre-Millenium air then help yerselfs. Just push the little valve stem here...*Hssst!*...like so.
Ah, sweet mother of Dunlop, that's good.
Oh I see someone has freshly painted our mottoo (Nothing Is Sacred) on the tinfoil above the electric hearth. Turn that sucker up a bit will ya, it's still a bit dampish down here.

*Turns the hoover (or vacuum if you prefer) up to full power and wonders where he left his drink. Remembers it's safely tucked up in his stomach and breathes a sigh of relief which instantly disappears into the hoover's innards*

errr, that tyre wasn't inflated in madison was it?

*psssst*

Ah Holy Mother of Good Year, it was.

Uhhmm...Bridgestone.

Brifgestone?

....Rally?

!

*Hssst!*
Ahhh..
*Pssst!*
Ahhh..

*giggling hysterically*
The h2g2 millenium countdown clock is running seven minutes fast...
*Hssst!*
Ahh....

And today is 01/01/01/
New beginnings indeed...
I spent the day at a Haiku Challenge. Hoping these gentle wits might sooth my hungover mind but these sacriligious, uncouth, mean mout..
*breaks off mumbling and cursing*
Then I heard the new P-4 has 'headspace' in a good way. Better web speeds on really user-friendly complex-graphics...
*begins scribbling on the tinfoil below the Cellar motto -
(Nothing Is Sacred)
- EXCEPT HAIKU!*
And I just now said something that blew Wumbeevil's mind.
He's up in the Committee room trying to get with the pogrom.
Could life be any better?

The seahorse and the hummingbird
could simply not agree
was than the sound of a whale breathing
or waves beaching from a gentle sea

Oh this century's off to a great start.

No, and no again!
We'll have no Jap culture here
Too many dead BOFs

*looks at the now disturbingly Orwellian wall and shakes his head. Wonders why no one can spell harry kiri te kanawa correctly and changes the motto to read

NOTHING IS SACRED
-EXCEPT HAIKU
-AND ONLY THEN, AS A SUICIDE BOMBER

*pleased with striking yet more fear into the establishment, Wumbeevil has a drink to celebrate and reads his anarchist's cookbook*

Hmmm, thermite. That should heat this place up a bit.....

Seems as good a time as any for the first annual general meeting of the Max Moron fanclub... I think we're all here. Sorry Xolin couldn't make it. I wish I could say he sends his regrets. And I regret to say we wont be sending him wishes. He blew up his homepage. He may still have been inside at the time.
Any new business ..?

Yes.
Millard Fillmore's birthdate is coming up on the 7th. I have no idea how old he'll be.