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

Your efforts still do bring us joy
So keep the thread going, old boy
I might add a Lim
Now and then, on a whim
But my lack of talent renders me coy

I never have learned martial arts.
I'll cringe if a fight ever starts.
If none will defend me,
I hope they will send me
At least a few poisonous darts.

No, poisonous darts aren't so great.
Your danger they'll only inflate.
When attacked, remain meek,
Turn the other butt cheek
Or whatever, just don't escalate.

I've never played darts in a pub.
I go there, but only for grub.
'Til the coffee arrives
I consider past lives,
Which were dismal. Ah, yes, there's the rub!

I once was engaged to a vicar,
Who started to drink lots of liquor.
I threatened to leave.
He said, "I believe
That only will make me much sicker."

Oh, that passive-aggressive response!
The threat, undelivered, that haunts!
"You will make me do this--"
"No. Just give it a miss
Or I'll play a tattoo on your bonce!"

Tattoo was on Fantasy isle.
His taste in apparel was vile.
He wore stripes with plaids
And followed strange fads.
The fashion Cops put him on trial.

Jane admitted that she'd often flirted
With ideas of islands deserted
But she can't be that keen
Cause her daily routine
Meant her escape plans were always subverted

These rules about clothing are sad
And amount to no more than a fad.
They said "Blue with green
Should never be seen",
But they're common companions in plaid.

The folk that wear plaid are no fools.
They happily flout all the rules.
It's stripes and it's squares,
Clashing colours in pairs,
But it covers the family jewels.

I like plaid, I freely confess.
It covers me when I'm a mess.
The colors, so bright,
Really are a delight,
And surely will bring happiness.

A haggis came over the hill,
And made me feel squeamish and ill.
I hid 'neath a stone,
So he left me alone,
And soon I was off to the mill.

I haven't been myself today.
I once was the queen of the May.
The king was a frog
Who wrestled a hog,
Then left in a green chevrolet

I never will go back to Belgium
Because It was tedious and humdrum.
The food I've forgotten.
The weather was rotten,
With many a bossy panjandrum.

There's not much in Belgium to praise;
Their food plainly fails to amaze,
But there's one big surprise:
They invented French fries!
And they they serve them with Sauce Mayonnaise.

I take off my hat to a master.
Your talent is deeper and vaster.
I sweat every word.
My results are absurd,
Though no better if I was faster.

The Wicked Wind of the West
Kept blowing without any rest.
The dust was so thick,
It made us all sick,
So we all moved to Budapest.

This time of year we have a thaw.
The air is quite mild, and not raw.
The snow? It melts fast.
The thaw doesn't last.
A cold snap comes from winter's jaw.

I dunked all my chips in some chili,
And fed all of them to my filly.
She kicked up her heels,
And gave out some squeals,
Then trotted around willy-nilly.

I'm waiting around for a flurry.
I hope it will come in a hurry.
Oh, waiting's a bore.
Got my skis by the door.
For warmth, I am eating some curry