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

i want 2 cancel this account what 2 do

do nothing

Change your name, your sex and your ISP, then move to a technologically backward country and hope they don't track you down... Oh, wait, that's the instructions for cancelling the Reader's Digest - sorry!

i already did that...that's how i got here

I don't think you can cancel an h2g2 account. There are accounts going way back to the inception of h2g2, in the researcher number 10,000s, 20,000s, 30,000s, etc, where the researcher did nothing more than add a nickname (some didn't even write an intro), but those accounts are still 'live' if the researchers in question ever come back.

There are also a lot of 'empty' researcher numbers down there. I don't know if those numbers were never assigned, or if the researcher never did anything.

I have a distinct feeling of deja vue. See A660674 and A661088 and http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/alabaster/F19585?thread=143046amplatest=1 Who's fooling around? Incog.

Give up 2legs!

"Beware of false prophets - they will be cast into the outer darkness where there will be wailing and sucking of hoovers..."
Legion 7:13

"Suck my indifference."
nighthoover 12:17

Oh well another conversation I have no chance of understanding so I shall just bow out gracefully.

Incog.

*The Theory smiles knowingly and pursues ingorance*

peace.

I give up i don't understand, i'm gone with no internet a week and find myself thrust unpertunia'ly through time space thing to reside at where it all did start at the begining, at least not the end, though the time must surelyh be nigh :
Anybody fancy taking over "nighthoover high priest" title, I think I give up its like attack of the young american's all over again, and before long we won't ever be able to leave, all being prisoners as we are

*Sympathetic smile, offers glass of warm *

There, there. Religion can be tough.

Coppice the falling wollen darning needles! Riddle the trowel hammer mantle with round curtains! Brush the withered snarled lampposts! and curdle the p;assing flocks of soil! Monsterous increduality at postumus partitions of faulse nightshirts, flannalin and banjo like in mammoth insignificence, crawling over the undecided, ravaging the wires of straight torpedo's, curtains of flour dusting lightly the broken multitude gathered inwardly for tepestus domaigns of garden gnomes, screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! screaming! screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Screaming! Rippen the stones of tilth till morn distroys the fetrid pestulance of the lawn!

*Gingerly retracts proffered , backs away, turns heel and runs like hell*

Fear 'ye not, incarnations of rose pillage the sod of faulsehood and divide the nonnighthooverly adrift in tormented filfth

Can I enquire the name of the substance that you use in your religious ceromonies and where you purchase it?

Incog.

Cafine! and a very weird mind..... And, at this hour of the evening, plenty of real ale!