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

Barnaby Thrumpet played on a trumpet.
When he was in Cuba, he played on a tuba.
When he planted corn, he played on a horn.
Now that he's dead, he can't play anything....

First I was a blade,
I was then weighed.
To see if I can be displayed.
With the roses in the garden.
Where the hardy plants, harden.
Kept thinking I could never fade.
without the help of my lemondade.
But I lent so many tights
thinking it was my swan song.
So, I grew strong with my new prongs.
As I learned how to fly like a canary
with the help of the hairy fairy.
Who came from thhe praire with Larry.
Amd joined with him, to look at the view,
from the church pews to watch Stu.
Who was glad when he picked up the brad.
from the scetch pad, thinking it was only a fad.
That made onlookers depressed and feel quite sad.
Then Larry went into the fridge and took out the cheese.
And some garden peas, along with organic fleas.
I should have made him leave the brie.
If I had known it was going to be needed for tea.
He told me, he was going to get some ghee.
But he only came back with cod and a laughing banshee.
Go on now go talk to the door.
Be a bore and talk about your weird decor.
As I rummble around in the jumble.
Taking a tumble with the apple crumble.
Now there won't be any apple pie.
No, no, don't be sly with the flies.
They won't supply you with apple pies.
You will have to go to the store,
And buy one and get the money from the drawer.
You think I'd sit down and cry,
into my french fries and apple pie.
Oh no, not I with my right eye as I spy.
At nervous Clive in the beehive,
And then make a dive into the archives.
To make sure that I am alive.
Making a high-five as I jive.
I have survived, as I drove my C5.
I am going on the nose drive,
with Clive who has joined the Borg hive.
I am always at arms length.
Near the microwave, emitting wavelengths.
Trying not to fall apart, as I lose my strength.
Trying hard to mend the hind end.
As I fell alseep, fending off the bends,
sitting on the edge of the gable ends.
Just feeling sorry for myself, sitting on the shelf.
Talking to the elves about my poor wealth.
Wearing my multi-coloured neck tie.
As I fly upto the sky, drinking whisky made of rye.
Looking at the view, as I chew at my rabbit stew.
Clive you say I am dull, and wear dreary clothes.
But I always wear frilly bows, and Long flowing gowns.
And I do not need to be trained to be a glamerous person.
As I wear sparkling pink lyrca gloves made by doves.
When I dance and prance in the mangrove.
As Ladylove, jiving with turtledoves that love to shove.
Showing their groovy transmoves by shouting by jove to the cloves.

Next to the hedge, way down where the grass is high,
I nibble on mint and clover and cinquefoil.
I peer between the grass stalks, watch the farmer, and sigh
In pity for I know he wastes his life in toil.

A free spirit like me would break down if made to work.
Thank goodness I've a knack for knowing how to lurk.

There are crimson bison that only eat jam made of damsons.
In Toucson, in unison with the spokesperson of the Simpsons.
There is a season for teasing friesen cows with the practice of tao.
Running around chasing mice , and shouting out meow.
Let's dine in the sunshine, drinking divinely tasting wine.
So drop me a line, if you want to come, down near the river Tyne.
Outside the tavern with a cavern, where the coolest people reside.
Where will meet the tourist guide, who will take us to the stateside.
Don't worry about transport, as you will get there using your mutant powers.
When you step inside your shower and go out and smell the flowers.
So you can now teleport anywhere you want with your new superpowers.
Arriving in Byker, with the mutant team, who has evolution as a theme.
Meeting at the pub on the riverside, thinking of ordering chicken supreme.
As well as freshly caught bream and other fish from the stream.
Rasberries and cream, which tastes like a dream.
Looking out on the river from the pub they eat their ice cream.
It's a wondeful tongiht, watching the kites fly as they glide in the sky.
Hearing their mournful cry as the birds sigh, as they say goodbye.
Causing great delight as they excite us all, in the darkness of the night.
Then going inside to listen to poems being recited about knights that love to fight.
As they dream about mutating further and becoming noble Jedi knights.
Filled with sugar and spice and all things nice, with great grace.
Turning themselves into aces that fly into outer space.
As they embrace the race to go into outer space with great ease.
Developing warp drive engines, that give them the extra zing.
With their one piece suits that are studded with bling, which is their thing.
As they sing their songs of praise for the king who plays ping pong with a word string.
Wearing their mac's as worn by Columbo as they quack, when they go on the attack.
They also have a knack to attack dental plaque with a whack from the shack.

Milk from contented cows tastes best, or so they say.
I wonder, though, how they know a glad cow from a sad one.
Do cow clowns come and tell them jokes while they graze in the hay?
What happens when the clowns muff jokes and chance to tell a bad one?

I met a bin full of vim on a Tuesday as my Bart stood still.
Don't do it Don said a tearful Bart, as he walked up the hill.
So Bart stared to spill the beans as he began to shrill.
Don then told me that Bart's name is John.
And he is a con that lives with a swan in the local salon.
By Jove, my Bart stood still, oh my, his name is John.
And when he told he was a clone, I began to foam at the mouth as I started to spawn.
I know what Bart was thinking when he said he was going to be a spy.
As he really is going to Xian along with Juan the swan, who likes to fly.
The bin full of vim was made up by Kim, as she sang out the matins hymn.
So Don don't worry about the curry made by Muuray who is in hurry from Bhutan.
Oh by jove, he bought me a glass of whisky made of rye, that made me cry.
And when he talked to me on the dog and bone, he began to groan as he sat on the throne.
He picked at bottle of wine and itt tasted so fine, which brought from the mines.
Kim is very slim and is friends with Tim, who goes to the gym to make him prim.
And they join us to dine on the finest pine and put out the washing out on the line.
Bart bought me some garden gnomes, that are made of chrome and are perfumed with cologne.

I climbed to the top of a tall pine tree
But I wasn't high enough to see the sea.
My eyes were bad, so I called for Hannah,
Who's our neighbor in Montana.

Yhere is mole who sings with great soul.
As he sits in the middle of a hole.
Contemplating on how to score a goal.
As he unfurl their banner and put in on the pole.

The shouting of the dog
The barking of the cat
The mooing of the frog -
I guess that's that.

I was sitting on a swing.
Doing my thing,
as I started to sing.
Wearing my bright bling.
Drinking copius amoounts of gin.
Wearing pink curly wings.
Tied with silver string.
Giving me lots of zing.
With springs on my feet.
Which I got from Pete.
That made me go ping.

Green and pink ribbons wrap around her feet.
Pacing the beach, she gazes out to sea,
Searching for her sailor, whom she was to meet
Today, or was it in May of 2023?

She cannot remember which date was right,
But will think of it by staying up all night,
And by losing those useless ribbons that wrap around her feet....

I made a kilt out of my old quilt.
But when I wore it, I started to tilt.
Making me lethargic as I began to wilt.
Shaking with the cold, going down with a chill.
Tried walking up the hill to see Bill.
But all I could do is let out a shrill.
To go and get my drill, to give me a thrill.
So as to remind me of dentists and their skill.
Hopefully, the trauma will turn me into a mutant.
Perhaps even a combatant with is also a militant.
Fighting against form filling and boring meetings.
And against members boasting about their hauntings.
With this in mind, I sit down holding my decongestant.
To put in a bowlful of hot water as it acts as a disinfectant.
Cleaning out my sinuses as I began to flotant.
Feeling palpitations as my whole body becomes transductant.
Completely energised and beaming out bolts of lightening
Which looked very frightening, as the room started brightening.
With wormholes appearing and convening, and then disappearing.

She had a cool insouciance, but that was yesterday.
Her stocks have tanked. There isn't much she can afford to pay.
So, at the beauty parlor, she forgoes the manicure.
The pedicure is cheaper. In a voice that's so demure,

She says, I want a pedicure, but do it to my hands."
The staff agrees to do it, caving in to her demands.
But after they have finished, she begins to sing the blues,
Because upon her hands they say she'll have to wear her shoes.

My fella lives in a cellar,
with his umbrella.
He calls his umbrella, Stella.
And uses it to make salmonella.
Made from prunella flowers,
picked from his ivory towers.
As he sits down to write his novella.
About his life in Marbella.

Oh he says he treats me with great honour.
When he goes and gets his kebas from Donna.
He plays computer games 15 times a day.
And then goes out to play on his sleigh.
When there is a fight, he is always in the fray.
With his feet made of clay as he goes for the prey.
But he he falls on his back as he tries to grab the cache.
Full of bars of gold, from the secret agent Renee.

All his clothes are coloured grey, which helps him to pray.
As he sits on the settee looking out to the bay.
Muttering the same old cliches about flying toupees.
That he sees when he visits the cafe with Jose.
As they discuss about organising a portrait soiree.
Where an artist will come and paint using a spray.
Who will paint the guests for the price of several meals at the cafe.

It's not a bear,
And it's name is not Claire.
I think you're a funny bean.
I think you're very lean.
So why do you glare at the empty chair.
But you will never make me square.
And I will not eat custard and pears.

Oh it's not a mare.
And I am not going to the country fayre.
It's not fair that you play hours of solitare.
It's really not fair that you keep on spending so much time reading Dan Dare.
Oh you're supposed to be an heir to flair.
But you do not have style, and you are no millionaire.
That does not matter as long as you prepare to be beyond compare.

Oh I sit here opening the latch,
to go into the hatch.
So I can go and match the patches.
Then I attach them to the quilt.
Which is starting to wilt and needs to be rebuilt.
Perhaps, I will make a kilt out if and it will be a hit.

So to beat the blues, I will go on a shopping spree.
Then go for a long weekend, canoeing on the cree.
Making me feel free and full of glea as I make my plea.
To go to Switzerland and learn how to ski.

When the music comes on, I start to sway.
As I listen to Ray and his band with tunes array.
That always makes my day, and banishes the grey.
But I feel full of dismay at the unnecssary delay.
Looking at life and it's lessons that it portrays.

The horizon does not look good, as I survey.
I feel full of betrayal and as grey as an ashtray.
You are very keen to look at the tv screen.
And if you don't have it on, you make a scene.
Then you turn a funny coloured green.
You drink too much caffeine,
from the coffee machine.
You say you can cook fine haute cuissine.
But all you done is take me to the cafe.

I am not going to the fun fare,
if you won't give me a bouquet.
I am not going to stay at the chalet,
and go out and play croquet.
And sit in the evenings, doing crotchet.
Nor go in the kitchen to do a bake,
or go boating on the lake.

You think you are a mule and are starting to bray.
Coming up with the tea tray, that is made of clay.
You say you are famous but all you do is play.
And go out on the beach to watch the sun rays.
Life is a game for you as try to make gold out of hay.

You have a strange routine,
And you say you are serene.
but all you do is clean the weighing machine.
You think youre in a dream,
when you eat cream with your bream.
That you caught on the river cheam.
Making you the angler supreme.

You will me with dismay,
with your strange displays.
Making everyday full of disarray
With your jokes about flying toupees.
And then you go and try and sell your wares,
at the country fayres.
Youre always on the make,
and what you sell are fakes.

The cactuses are growing in the sea.
I'm sure that I don't know how that can be.
They should really take some heed,
'Cause more water than they need
Will put them in the cactus cemetery.

I have a brother. His name is Lily
Which I think is rather silly.
He has a brother (me) named Daisy
Which is crazy.

My parents were hippie-trippy:
That's why our names are dippy.
My sister's worst off of all:
They actually had the gall
To call her Moonbeam-Mississippi.

My teddy bear is in a mood,
because he has not had any food.
Won't eat prunes that have been stewed.
Because it will turn him into a prude.
So goes and get's some barley, to be brewed,
into real ale , as he is very shrewd.
With good profit margins, success will be ensued.

He paddles his canoe across the lake,
To the island where his fair beloved dwells.
He's brought a saw, some tadpoles, and a cake,
And will regale her with "The Book of Kells."

She is not home when he at last gets there.
Her roommate is at home. She is bewitching.
They fall in love at once. Their oaths they swear.
Their son is celebrated for his pitching.

I caught some odd looking cod,
with my fishing rod.
Whilst being chased by a riot squad.
Chasing me with their money, in wads.
The head of the squad is called Todd,
who was a bit an odd bod.
And spent the time, giving me a nod,
as he threw me his pea pods.
As he attempted to run roughshod over the imaginary facade.