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

Children today, they don't know the half of it; things were so bad in my day, not just the naff graphics but also naff sound.
remember the "ping " game that ran on a nine volt battery and plugged into the ; with the white dog (ball) on black background and court boundaries and net (white line) with games like tennis and stuff, those were the days.

i used to play tennis in the summer, only there was no shade and it got really hot. We all used to get sunstroke. I hated tennis. Every five minutes i would pretend to need a drink just to get out of the shade and then i would go back to looking for my lost tennis ball for tne next five minutes. My friend used to try and sprain her wrist under a piano lid to get out of playing tennis.

When I was 5 or so years old my best friend was a piano lid; pity how things in my life and indeed my life itself, seemed to go downhill at a rapid pace from that point onwards really..

When I was 5 years old, my best friend was a piano lid, and that is still the case.

I used to like pasta, and that is still the case.

I used to find the handles on radios very funny.
Well, I didn't actually: It is the holes in the side of the radio that I found funny. The holes into which hte carrying handle would fit at each end, I found them hugely hillaryarse and contemplated them for a great deal of time with much embarassing giggling on my part.
Actually I have begun giggling again at the very thought of this amusing subject, so I guess I still find it a very funny and amusing area.
Now all I have to do is calm down and stop giggling before I go hysterical (again,) like I did the night before las over a completely different other area of highly amusing things that occuupor of my waking brain power.

When I start giggling a lot, I usually try to think about the melting polar ice caps and starving children in Africa and other things that aren't very funny.

But then crying would start(at least about the children), and I, for one, would rather giggle...

And I for two. I first started giggling back in 1927. Of course, in those days, giggling was very much frowned upon, so I could only giggle in the back-stairs cupboard. This was quite hard, as it was a largely empty cupboard with not much to giggle about. Then, in 1933, General Lafayette declared a general armastice on gigglers, and you know, I just had to laugh. I laughed my head off, and a small crowed of children pointed and shouted ooooh look at his head!! and they started giggling too. The trouble was, that I couldn't stop laughing then, not even when I was eating a soft boiled egg or opening a bank account. So no one took me seriously at all, which just made me laugh, really. By 1967, everyone was really letting it hang out, and all were laughing uproariously, and sometimes at very ordinary things like street lights. I just roared with laughter, on and on, through the seventies and even the eighties when I developed a designer chuckle. Then, in 1998, I finally stopped laughing- I was just so out of breath. But that was when the hiccups started.

Trees make me cry,
but I don't know why,
maybe I should not talk of it
I'me inside and can't blaime grit.

I don't know why I'm missing my right foot.

'Missing' as in you are mourning it, or 'missing' as in 'It's gone!'? If the latter, you might want to try looking next to your left foot...

I once woke up in the middle of the night for no reason whatsoever, but on the good point at least I didn't then have the problem I have now, a very very very very very very very saddening problem, to which as I see it there is no solution, it is quite ohnestly the most depressing thing to happen to me for some time, and it happened just ten minutes or so ago.
Deciding I was to do little no more work this evening, this warm humid evening, I chose as I often enough do, and in fact as I did last night, to open a bottle of wine.
French, red, normally rahter nice.
I duely obrained my corkscrew (which I could really do with a new one as it is getting rather past it).
Neathertheless I duely took the corkscrew and opened the wine, poured some into my wine glass, and tasted it.
yuck.
yuck.
yuck.
corked.
off.
undrinkible.
what a waste.
what a disipointment disapointment.
how upset and dennied I feel.
I wanted to drink it.
I wanted to drink it right now whilst posting on H2G2 as I normally do of an evening.
I can't so I cry
no wine tonight.
no wine at all.
I will buy some more tomorrow but probably a different sort.
I feel so upset
it is so so sososososososo depressing.
I am thirsty.
can I survive till tomorrow?
do I now know what it feels like to be without wine.
do I not detest this state of affairs?
Oh well, something will turn up, it normally does.

Here's some --the closest smiley to wine I could find...

[I'me very tempted to begin on the beer, but i'me not too sure, I really wanted and felt like drinking red wine, which is strange cause I normally feel like wanting to drink red wine]

Before the advent of colour TV I clearly remember how boaring and dull life was, living a monochronic existance. with gray trees and gray grass everywhere you looked, and gray people living in gray houses with gray children and gray pets, unless the dog was a black labrodoooooor when it was a darker gray. but thanks the the the the the the the the the the the the the

Oh, thats betteer.
so when they invented colour we were all very gratful and appreciated green trees in the parks and blue sky in the dustbin.
oh, no, I don't believe it.
why does it hurt when I pee?
In the cannions of your mind I will wonder through your brain.
He took a lead filled show-snoe and started onto beating my baby seal.
I think youre probably out to lunch.
I'me about to get upset, been watching my TV.
I am the walress.
Ime going to sink you with my pink torpedo.
not many.
We will teach him how to walk and talk.
we will putty up his chin.
we will paint his picture everywhere, of course the smut will win.

I used to have a toothbrush, I still have but it is a different colour.

OK fine then, here's some . Please don't send your torpedo...

No its not my rorpedo just some daft lyrics from a song by Bad News, the verse of which went something like:
Big bottom, big bottom,
Talk about mud flaps, my babes got em, pretty awful huh?
Oh thanks for the

You're welcome

You know, I think that's the first direct response I've managed to get from you,2Legs? Oh, wait, no, I think there may have been one on the questions only thread...

So how many of your interesting ramblings come from songs? And here I thought all that weirdness was pure 2Legs...

I wrote a song called "Paul Whitlatch is a Scary Guy," because Paul Whitlatch is a scary guy. You don't understand until you've met him, but he is really really scary.

who is he? is he famous?