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

I have the unfortunate habit of saying things in words and phrases, while technically correct, have double meanings.

I was to meet some people from work at a local bar immediately after work. I really didn't know most of these people well and was going to breeze in, have a quick drink and breeze out, hoping to make a great impression as there were some top level folks there. Thought I would look impressive, coming in after they did, being over worked, but handling it all well. I had a heck of an afternoon and when I got to the bar, all eyes and ears were on me. What I meant to convey was that I had done nothing but screw up jobs all day (probably not a good thing if one wanted to look impressive, oh well) but it came out like this "Whew, sorry I'm late. I'm sure tired! I've done nothing but blow jobs all day". (Hope this translates well).

Yes, thgis translates

I definitely got it.

Not too embarassing, but my baby's beginning to protray as an antisocial creature. He's a year and a half, and goes to nursery with this lovely little 2 years old, who gave him hugs and a kiss when he was crying while we were waiting for the bus home (2 mums, 2 kids). In return he's completely ignored her the whole way to our stop (about 10 minutes ride) and when she waved sadly through the window at him when we got off he didn't wave back (and he knows how to wave) so I grabbed his wrist and made waving motions at the poor child.
Typical male!

That reminds me of a story my mum likes to tell. After spending the first 2-and-a-bit years of my life living in rural Scotland the big city (Edinburgh, or Endinburr as I apparently used to call it) was a bit of a culture shock... and never more so when me and my mum were on the bus and a gentleman of African descent alighted.

"Mummy, mummy, mummy!" I cried, "I seen a black man!"
"Yes, very nice dear," replied my mum
"But he's *all* black all over!"
By this time my mum was starting to get rather flustered and was doing anything she could to distract me, but I was just getting more and more excitable.
"But mummy, I never seen a black man before!"
Eventually the poor guy came over, sat in front of us and explained why his skin was black and that he was a priest. This, of course, stunned me into silence and when he reached his stop he told my mum not to worry about it on account of my being but a bairn and left.

But it doesn't end there.

A little while later I started crying.
"What's the matter?" my mum asked in a soothing voice.
"Mummy, mummy, mummy, I going to be blut!"
My mum looked puzzled and asked "What does 'blut' mean dear?"
So I showed her... all over the floor and the seat and her front.

Oh, nice one! I have to say my boy is excellent in car/bus/plane journeys, and keeps all the contents of his stomach inside.
I, on the other hand, threw up on the carpet at work two weeks back, and made the secretary working me flee the room in panic.

Mr Dreadful, we have a thing in common!

When I was about two years old, my mother delights in reminding me, she had taken me on the Tube for about the first time ever. We sat down next to a black man. I was totally fascinated, and at one point leaned over and vigorously rubbed his hand to see if the colour came off. Luckily he thought I was sweet and laughed about it... In a marvellous 'what goes around comes around' I was on a bus a couple of years ago, and sat next to a Nigerian lady with her toddler daughter. The darling stared at my arm for a good few minutes, and then leaned over and rubbed it hard. Aparently she and her Mum had arrived in London the previous morning and I was the first white person the baby ever seen close up enough to touch. So I told the Mum about myself at the same age and we had a lovely chat.

Very good - can't match that, well not quite...

A few years ago the IT Director decided it'd be a good idea to take the whole team to a hotel in London for a couple of days, quite close to Xmas (unfortunately it was a hotel just a few minutes away from one of our offices and a short bus journey from another...).

Of course, the first day was nice and quiet and a fair bit got done (despite one of us (mainly me) being on permanent call)..

That night we had a Xmas meal - with Bar bill being picked up by the firm (NOT a GOOD IDEA)... 'bout 4 in the morning the last 3 of us made our way to bed - and saw a very nice looking naked lady running around in the corridors ...

Come the morning we all reassembles, mostly the worse for wear... I reached over to pour myself a nice large glass of Orange Juice, and knocked it back - only then realising it was Squash (yuk...).....

Then a priority one call comes in - one of our offices networks has crashed ( - the one a short bus ride away) so off I goes with my boss.... A lot of diving underneath desks to troubleshoot - followed by several dashes to the Bogs to "blut" ...

Then we were meant to make our way back to the "conference" and my Boss goes on ahead...

I finish up (as best as I could in the state I was in), and follow on (or try to), all is going fine, until, on the top deck of the bus I am unavoidably "blut" again...

So dash off the bus asap ... and am again "blut" in the streets... I never did make it back to the hotel that day...

I blame the squash .

Well, at least you got to see a naked lady.

I bemand that the naked lady post immediately and explain herself.

PP

"bemand"? I obviously meant "insist".

PP

'Blut' now the word for it indeedy.

I was once a naked lady in a corridor. In a Youth Hostel in Italy. I was going back to my room from the showers, all bundled up in a towel and nought else (my friends were looking after my pyjamas back in our room). I slipped and fell flat on my back and the towel fell open and there I lay, starkers in a corridor at midnight while happy back-packers of assorted genders wandered past.

And, by the way, yes, ow, my poor coccyx, and did I get any sympathy?

No sympathy? Crikey! You'd expect that at least one of the blokes would have helped, even if for no better reason than "she's naked and if I'm nice I might pull."

"my friends were looking after my pyjamas"?

You have friends that you trust that much?

Mine would have ensured that pictures were taken and posted on the net.

PP

IN fact....

I once attended a scienctific conference at Glasgow Uni. Delegates were accommodated in the student accommodation. Went to the toilet early one morning, when a partially naked girl emerged from the gents loo. She was just putting on her towlling dressing gown, and hadn't thought that there would be anyone around at 6.30 in the morning. Apparently, the 'ladies' as some distance away, so she'd decided to use the 'gents'

Also, you could tell people were particulary poor in this area - the tramps were hanging around the student accommodation asking for money!

Or particularly daft/persistent!

Okay this is one that my parents love to bring out for each time I bring a new girlfriend round, so if I share it with everyone then maybe I won't go quite so scarlet next time.

When I was about...3 we were walking about the beach. Suddenly I really really REALLY needed to do a poo. Being in the middle of nowhere, my dad held me over the breaking surf where I commenced doing a truly huge log, which splashed into the water and then bobbed to the surface. However, instead of being carried out to sea as intended, the waves just kept bringing it back whilst my parents giggled and giggled at this floating poo.

All I have to say about it is that it just goes to show that I was eating a good diet because a floater shows it's well-aerated (sp?)


Kat

Nothing for you to be too embarrassed about - as a parent I'd be more embarrassed...