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

Oh how the days ebb away, rolling from one to the next, all remarkably similar and tedious. Its got to the point now that I’ve got to ask somebody what day it is when I wake up, so that I know whether to limp into work or stay home and listen to the children fighting.

Had a school reunion a couple of weeks ago, which broke the monotony. I went along looking to confront the school bully, now that I’m bigger and stronger than I was. Trouble was, so was he. I found that he was able to lift the front end of a car off the ground, my car actually, and still have a hand free to stick chewing gum in my hair and give me a wedgie.

Turns out he’s in a dead-end job now though, which makes me feel a little bit better. Yup, once a doctor, always a doctor; he’ll be one until the day he dies now, and it serves him right. This knowledge has galvanised my feelings of deep suspicion towards the medical profession once again though.

There are things I don’t understand, for example, every time I visit my doctor lately, it appears he wants to probe my rectum with his finger; go in with a nasty cough = finger up the arse. Flu? Finger up the arse. Blinding headache? Finger up the arse. Is this some kind of cure-all treatment left over from medieval times? Maybe it’s a shortcut of some type; “Grind ye forthwith yon wing of bat and mix with toadfartjism, leg of slug and sparrow dropping, and smear therewith potion upon thine manhood at the time yon sun doth drop frometh yon edge of world, sing thee thrice a lullaby, bark of dog and yelp of fox, and shove a finger, up yon dirtbox.” That’s it I reckon; they’ve done away with the rest of it and just kept the last bit.

Hmmm? Or could it be that a race of humanoids has infiltrated the population of the country, replicating ordinary citizens and gradually taking over the world? And the doctors are our first line of defence, trying to reach the ‘off’ button?

Could just be that my doctor’s a pervert though, I suppose….