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

Okay okay, you get to be Tony Stark, just not the Tony Stark. From now on you'll be stuck with your ordinary extremely dull life, while being plagued with constant phone calls, messages etc for the Tony Stark. Happy?

I wish for dry weather tomorrow.

Kasard you wanted a little more hair on your head and a little less on your chest?

A litter of leverets has embedded itself in your scalp and all of tyour chest hairs have been peremanently shortened to the exact length to produce maximum itchiness at all times.

Where's the wish,where's the wish!!!

Kasard, I wish that I wasn't here (ie. where I am physically, not "here" on h2g2).

You're magically transported to the Australian Outback. Everything is trying to kill you.


I wish movies were as much fun as they were in the '90s.

No, no, no. Let me revise that: I wish filmmakers were as *casual* as they were in the '90s. They're too much a business now.

Granted. Film makers became a lot more casual last night. so casual that their approach veges on shambolic. It's unlikely that another film will ever be made. Still, it's not all bad, that also means no inferior remakes of good films.

I wish that my lost mobile phone will be sent back to me.

Your phone is back, unfortunately the bar steward that found it has run up a huge bill which you cannot afford to pay. Thereby losing your good credit status and ensuring you will never get a mobile again. You will lose all your 1000,s of Facebook friends and go into a decline.

I wish I could sing in tune

You can sing in tune, but now you've got no memory for words and no sense of rhythm. You know what they say people with no snese of rhythm are also bad at?

I wish that tomorrow will be warm, sunny, and dry here.

"snese" was, of course, "sense".

"Here" in the Australian Outback? Of course it is.




Tomorrow is warm, sunny, and dry. But you don't get to enjoy any of it. You're stuck inside all day, bedridden with the flu.

My time is very limited. I have a number of personal projects I want to complete that only I am able to complete, but not enough time to do them all. So: I wish there were someone else who could complete one of my personal projects and I could just pay them to do it for me.

Granted - the substitute does it noticeably better than you ever could have done, and soon takes all the work which you were previously given, along with the money and the acclaim. From time to time, you will now get thrown a tiny crumb of your previous tasks, with negligible payment and next to no recognition at all.

I wish that human beings were less prone to self sabotage.

200 years in the future -- society has become a socialist utopia where everyone works for the betterment of all and no one hurts themselves or anyone.

But all sense of individuality is gone.

.....THE HORROR.....




I wish I had more butter knives.

Two gross of butter knives, sign here, please.

You want to know why they're in an insulated box? You wanted more butter knives and those are exactly what you've been sent - knives made of butter. Just in time for summer, too.

I wish that I hadn't painted my phone before realising that there was no nailvarnish remover to hand.

You didn't. But it doesn't matter: slathering your phone in nail varnish remover shorts it out and it never turns on again. You have to buy an entirely new phone.

I wish the sun would go down.

It has, for the last time ever. In fact, it hasn't just gone down, it's finally gone out.

I wish for enough time and energy to get through today.

The time and energy is sucked out of those closest to you: They fall into comas.

But you've never felt better!



I wish to speak with the dead.

You can. It's a pity that all your friends, relatives, and anyone else who ever mattered to you at all dropped dead (if they weren't already) at the very moment your wish was granted.

I wish the nearest sub post office would keep regular hours.

In an unprecedented and -- some would say -- revolutionary move, the British Parliament voted yesterday to open a post office onboard a submarine. Coincidentally, the submarine nearest you. It's open from 9-5, Mondays through Fridays.

'Course, since it's a submarine, they don't actually get much mail. But hey! The politicians gotta' have their pat-on-the-back, feel-good programs, don't they?



I WISH MY THIRST WOULD BE QUENCHED!!!