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

XMAS 2006

Dear Mother hez went up ti heaven,
an' left me weepin' doon 'ere below.
Dad follered Mum at quarter past seven
an ah'm left ere alone in the snow.

An’ if God made honky tonk Angels,
he aught ti hev gin 'em bigger wings.
Cos every time they run ti take aff.
they trip ower they dangly things.

Wha Percey is jinin’ the Para’s,
cos he’s cheezed aff wi’ aye stayin’ at hame.
App’n ‘e saw sum braw photies,
o’ lasses paradin’ in their undies in Rome.

The chuffin’ Parrot got oot her cage on Setdi,
an’ crapped in aw oor cups o’ ‘ot tea.
Noo she’s cawin’ under the cowd tap,
wi’ blisters doon ti her knee.

Whisper hes done aw the cake icin’,
an Donna has knitted a wee muff.
An’ Owd Fred the Budgie will be forever grateful,
cos a frozen dingle at Xmas is gey rough.

Auld Yin hez made the plum puddin’ o’ course
though ah ponder wit inti it she hes mixed
Three bottles o’ Jonny Walker nae doot,
wun wiff an’ aw yer brains is transfixed.

The white sauce of course is a secret recipe of Docs,
an’ ye canny buy it fer dollars.
But efter the meal yer will feel yer haunds steal,
ti loosen aw yer belts an’ yer collars.

The proud puddin’ hez bin droont wi’ brandy,
an’ silently we watch it as it burns alite.
But Burn’s didnie mak the plumo Puddin’ ye ken!
so he wull jist hev ti wait fi, “Burn’s nicht”

This nicht belangs ti Owd Santa,
God bless him an’ all his prezzies an’ pud.
An’ a happy New Year ti aw the Weatsheafer’s mob,
cos in the owd year yuz aw did good.

But ah jist hope ah’m nae weers near that big pud,
if sum joker strikes a wee match.
Jist ring up Gollach wi’ hes pipes foo wi watter,
‘en race ower ti save thon Weatsheaf’s thatch.

Tam O’Lincoln :0)

WOOTTON VILLAGE POND

The, “Charles William Barker Family” moved from Thornton Abbey Farm to the Village of Wootton.
Wootton Village was like Thornton Curtis Village in that it was in Lincolnshire and was a typical small Anglo Saxon agricultural community that could be found in most shires with it’s Church of England and local Squires and tenant Farmers in England
since the demise of Henry the Eighth.

Wootton Village had a duck pond that was chest deep on a six foot bloke standing in the mud of the bottom of the pond and it was about quarter of an acre across it and it were situated at the end of the road that came from Thornton Curtis.
I can be sure of that cos every time I see an exclamation mark it reminds me of the road that suddenly stops with a pond at the end of it.
However! The main road then split, and one road led right into the Village of Wooton proper and the other road went left and led to Grimsby.

On a fine Sunday in Summer it was not unusual to see somebody rowing a small boat on the pond while two kids were enjoying the free ride and would be feeding the fish in the pond.
Some fish in the pond were Sticklebacks while others were Golden Bream.
There was of course other life in the pond such as Nutes and Frogs, Dragonflies etc.
I always thought the gold colored fish were a bit big to be classed as Gold Fish and one day as I was passing the pond with one of the local yokels I spotted the flash of gold in the Sun and blurted out, “ Cor! luke at the size o’ yon gowd fish!” and Matey sticks out his chest and bleats, “Thar ain’t no bluddy gowd fish it’s a chuffin’ bree-am (Bream)
Passers by on a Sunday out for a stroll would stop in their nature ramble and would peruse the trio in the boat and the smiles and nods of the observers would suggest the conversation was in praise of the thoughtful bloke who was either feeding the fish or had offered to his wife some peace and kip time while he kept the kids occupied in the boat.
Whether the kids didn’t like the sandwiches they were eating or they took pity on the fish it would seem they were in their element throwing bits of bread into the water until some seagulls decided they wanted some as well.

It wasn’t long before someone had to spoil it for the kids.
About a month later it was discovered the local Council had erected a sign on a post next to the pond that informed any who could read that feeding the birds and fish was prohibited.
The next Sunday the sign went missing and the boat was again on the pond and the same bloke was there with his two offspring and they were blithely feeding the fish and having a wonderful time.
Then a Bobby in his blue uniform arrived on his twenty one inch Elswick Hopper keep fit machine that was supposed to make him look even more tall and menacing as he dismounts with the grace of a ruptured emu and advance with such a menacing stare and slow gait, a bit like a gaitor that has just surfaced and is not sure that he is taking on more than he can handle, but decides to bluff it out anyway.

On getting to the water’s edge the Cop yells to the bloke in the boat and having got his attention he holds up one hand with a clenched fist but with the index finger pointing at the sky.
With the bloke in the boat now looking at him with an odd look on his face thinking,
“ Wot does yonder pilluck want nah?” the Cop lowers the pointy finger to point a spot to his immediate front on the shore.
The Cop now stands with legs apart and tries to look like Spartacus in the ancient arena of Rome inviting someone to come and stand in his immediate front and give him a swift kick about three inches below his belt buckle. With hand on hips the prune is waiting for the wee boat to dock.

The bloke in the boat on getting to the shore hops out of the boat and addresses the stout arm of the Law.
“ What’s yer problem owd mate?” queries the vulgar boatman.
“Well first off owd mate, I’m not yer owd mate, I am Police Consterbule Wer, Watkins of the Barton ker, ker, Consterstabulary an’ yo is fer, fur, fer, fishin’ ‘ere illegally!”
“ Well owd mate!” Warbled the boat bloke, “Fust off, ah ain’t fishin,’ but me kids is doin’ wot they ave been doin’ fer years an’ thar is feedin’ the friggin’ fish cum Summer”
“But yer is not allowed tu fur, feed the fu, fer, little buggers cum Summer” drooled the blue clad prune.
“ Then why don’t yo put a sign up that hinforms the friggin’ public?” grated the bloke now getting angry.
“Ker, Cu, can’t yu chuffin rer, er, read yon sign ower theer, an’ ther wudn’t be so many kids abaht if it weren’t fer the friggin’ public” spluttered the now purple faced Cop who’s neck veins now resembled two cobras in heat.
“I ain’t not seed no sign ower theer!” exclaimed the bloke with the two kids, who by now are getting restless.
“ Ah! there is a sign up ovver theer!” And the Cop half turned and pointed to where there was a hole in the grass but no sign.
“Well ah’ll ger, go ‘ome an’ darn me socks! pouted the Policeman, “There wuz a sign theer yer, yisterday cos a seed it mesen’!”

App’n just then a bloke who had been mowing the grass on the village green came wandering out of the lane end and he was leading a horse that on a week day pulled the reaper, but now all it had on was a bridle.
All the chains jingling and jangling and draped over the saddle on the horses back were missing because it was Sunday and it was stable so close to the Pond it got a bonus of a wee walkies as it plodded towards the pond where it paddled ankle deep into the pond, then lowered its head and gulped a couple of gallons of water from the pond then raised its head and the horse came back to the bloke on the bank who patted it’s neck and they went back up the lane with the horse making flatulent noises that suddenly attracted all the flies that had been up till now buzzing over a dead fish floating on the surface of the pond that moved only when a breeze chased ripples across the water as if to nudge the dead fish awake but without success, then horse and man walked up the lane and they passed out of sight.
The Pond returned to being like a sheet of glass warming in the still of the warm Summer’s day.

Then a Bream suddenly leapt out of the now glassy still water of the pond and glinted gold in the sunlight as it arched up and over then disappeared just a sudden again with hardly a splash into the dark depths leaving ever widening ripples now slowly widening and finally gently lapping on the bank of the pond.
Some reeds near the edge of the pond moved slightly as the ripple in the water sped through them and disappeared from sight.
A black water hen appeared to see what all the fuss was about and after poking about into the reeds and doing a couple of dives under the water and reappearing after a few minutes decided to go back to bed and disappeared among the reeds again.
The sun beat down and the air was still and the Cop took off his helmet and wiped the inside leather headband with a pale blue handkerchief.

The bloke near the boat with the two kids was now tying the boat up to a post on the bank and then ignoring the Cop walked off down the lane with his two children.

The next Saturday evening The Nags Head Pub was about to close for the night when the blokes at the bar who were supping up cos they knew any minute now the Landlord of the Pub would be ringing the bell and bellowing “Time Gentlemen Please!”

Outside the purple velvet of the Heavens was alive with tiny twinkling stars and the pale almost full moon was washing over all the house roof tops near the pond making them all look a pale slate gray like the pictures in a kids Fairy tale book

In the far distance a racing motor engine could be heard and at times the tortured squeal of tires as if someone was being pursued by the Devil .
The droning of conversation in the Pub ceased suddenly as the engine noise now got even louder and more persistent.
One bloke near the bar in the Pub suddenly broke the silence and warbled, “Ah just ‘ope ‘e ‘as a toilet roll in ‘is dunny wen ‘e get’s ‘ome”
Another voice offered, “ At the rate ‘e’s goin’ ‘e’ll be lucky ter ger ‘ome at all, drivin’ like a ruddy maniac!”
Another voice suggested, “ App’n 'e's got cramp an' wants ti ger 'ome afore losin' it!”

The noise of the screaming engine was now getting louder as the seconds ticked by

And the yellow sleek sports car suddenly tore past the Pub like a bullet, and suddenly there was the added sound of tires screeching on the hard tarmac road as if suddenly all the wheels had locked up.
Then all the noise except the screaming engine suddenly stopped as it someone had flipped a switch, then there was a loud splash and the engine noise too was gone.

In the Pub everyone who had been stood like wax models listening to the noises suddenly sprang into life and made for the door of the Pub and ran over to the pond in time to see the back end of a yellow sports car slowly disappearing under the water of the pond where the steam and smoke from the hot engine was drifting now across the pond’s surface.
A huge mass of water that had been displaced by the car now scudded across the surface of the pond reflecting the stars and the moon then it hit the far side of the pond and carried on up the sloping bank to splash into the nearby Churchyard.
The driver of the car suddenly surfaced and gulped air, then, on finding he could stand up he waded to the bank and crawled out on to the grass and gazed at his now muddy shoes.
On looking at the pond that by this time had settled more or less he could see his sports car now under the water surrounded by clouds of muddy water near the wheels.
“ That theer watter weern’t do me ingin’ a lot o’ good” he growled.
One old bloke from the pub offered, “ Thee aught tu thank the good Lord tha’ gor aht in wun piece m’ lad, why is thee in such a big urry tu dee?”
“Well! ah ‘ed this date yu see an’ ah wuz layet so ah put me foot dahn an’ nah me cars knackerd” protested the speed King.
“If’n ah wuz thee owd mate ah wud sit theer on me date an’ keep me gob shut!” offered the old bloke.

Today a big sign warns all motorists to slow down because there is a T road ahead, and someone chalked had below,

“Stop! or by the Law be busted!
"an' yer car's noo knackered"
"wi it's engine rusted" :0)T

Aw Gawd owd mate! weer did thee get that hat frum? I Like it , it suits you. :0)

Thanks Chips, be on the look out for more. :0)T

My dear Chap, I would be highly diluted! (delighted):0)