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

I feel famous today. In the same sort of way that you feel famous when the TV weatherman on the national news mentions that there's been a giant humongous huge devastating lightning storm going on in your city for the past six days, and you already knew about it.

Oy, I need a hobby.

No. No, I don't. I'm not like this for lack of entertainment. I have plenty to do. I just don't do any of it.

I do this instead.

Probably I would come across as a more interesting and altogether effective person if I actually went out and got some stuff to ramble about instead of going on about what material I actually have—such as my complete lack of things to write about and insistence upon typing away regardless.

But it doesn't matter, because nobody reads this anyway, and if somebody does, then it would seems as though I am *not* the worst off in terms of doing useless stuff.

There, now nobody's going to reply to this ever.

As long as nobody's going to reply, I may as well just keep typing... if my theory holds true (which none of my theories EVER EVER will, as another theory of mine clearly states) I should be untouchable by now.

Funny how that makes me think of climbing a greased pole. Even funnier how completely obscene that sounds.

Annnnnnnnyway, 52nd Street is a damn good album, and I can't help but wonder why I never take it out.

So the world-famous chainsaw artist (Gunti somebody?) was at school today, where he, erm... sawed... some logs. It was truly enthralling. No, really.

No, not really.

"Beaches are everywhere." —Greg
(Maybe you had to be there.)

The thing about Lion Country Safari is that apart from the bit where you drive through the zebras, it's really just a glorified zoo and miniature golf course. Besides, Ant's right, it's hard to explain a lion dent. (To tone down the stream-of-consciousness theme a bit here, there is an admission coupon thing on my desk. I just picked it up to see why there is an admission coupon thing on my desk and it's printed on the back of a receipt. A receipt from... Winn-Dixie. Where my cashier was Lorraine. And, had I been a more conscientious shopper, I could have had 40% off Gibson greeting cards. Damn.)

Well, at least I don't need any greeting cards.

Remember Pollyanna? Me too. The movie was scary. I saw that a couple of years ago. Halley Mills, if that's how you spell her name (and even if it isn't), is a little bit on the weirdish side. What's become of her since then?

Robert Downey Jr., too. Though I have some idea of what's become of him.

I wonder how long this is now... I don't think I'm going to look.

Even if this Journal makes my page reeeeeeally long, it won't be as long as *some* I've seen today. And it will only be long for five more entries, which means about five days, which means until, say, Sunday, and that's a perfectly reasonable timeframe for page-long-scrolliness. No one ever scrolls to the bottom anyway.

And another thing no one ever does! Another thing no one ever does, no one ever puts anybody's head back on around here after they've "accidentally" detached it. It's just plain inconsiderate. I've got two—TWO!—perfectly well-behaved friends here with their heads in their hands because no one ever puts them back on, and I can't be bothered.

Come to think of it, I think it was me that knocked the head off this one.

You see? No one EVER puts them back!

I think I would form a theatre union and go on strike if they tried to charge me $8.00 for the use of a script in which I had very few lines. I'm always surprised at what people will put up with. Then again, I like to think I'd make some sort of effort to resist, but I know that if it were me, I'd probably keep quiet and put up with it too. Urgh.

Excuse me a moment. Someone is staring at me, and it's begin to make me a little uncomfortable.

There. Closed the window. That'll teach him. (I probably could have just minimised it, but that wouldn't have had the same educational effect.)

There, you see in jokes, if I didn't know what you were talking about I'd think you were odd

but amazing

hi!

Hello guys!

I think beetle is making fun of me.

I'm just not sure why yet.

beetle?

I betcha he's gonna be inscrutable about it. Just you wait.

just the juxtiposition of a long journal entry with a short reply.

Hi there!

Oh, very clever then.

*doesn't make fun of beetle in return*

Hi, how's it goin?

Kinda wobbly at the moment. I'm supposed to go in for a retuneing.

G-String broken then? *runs away very fast*

that's right! "swhy i'm not going to miami!

I want you to know I read that whole thing and laughed a lot.

I hope you learn to be a more conciencious shopper. They put those faded coupons there for a reason, you know.

Hi!

*waves*