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

Country country, a long lost wasted of word
Cats or dogs, what we have now! Is quite absurd

I don't mind having the cats in charge,
But why are their litter boxes so large?

I know of a cat who lives in a luxury apartment flat,
who always wears a top hat and meditates on a yoga mat.
And when finished has glasses of wine taken from a wooden vat,
which she shares with her flat mates, a bat , and a rat,
as they have a chit chat about their neighbour Pat who's a gnat ,
and who's windows are covered in wooded slats,
who looks out of the window eating porridge made with oats,
and counting all the money in his box which is filled with ducats,
and wondering why there are so many goats,
working as post deliverers wearing long white coats,
covered in lots of coins and bank notes.

Cameron? Camer-Oxford-Moron

A clued-up cat could do better than THAT.

Clegg-Clugg Clegg

-[He's hardly worth talking about, the Cambridge clod).

Anyone for boating?




(Read PG Wodehouse - it's all there)

There's a black-and-white cat who is walking on my wall
Rather fat is this cat, and that's not all
On my lawn he has shat, as the cat shat on the mat
Learning how to read now, such a clever cat
Hope he understands about constanents and vowels
When I kick him off the wall now I hope that he howls.

Wodehouse and Bolton wrote shows for the stage.
They were described thusly by an anonymous sage:

"This is the trio of musical fame,
Bolton and Wodehouse and Kern.
Better than anyone else you can name
Bolton and Wodehouse and Kern."

There is a Labrador dog that has their own blog,
and writes about when they go for a jog,
and rest on a log having a drink of eggnog,
staring at the muddy bog,
and watching the preceding fog,
as a frog plays leapfrog,
over the groundhog who's shopping from a catalogue,
and going online to learn on ways of incog,
and of having dialogue with a sheepdog wearing wooden clogs,
who footslogs all they way home to mend their clock's broken cogs.

Forsooth! Forsooth! I've heard he doesn't always write the truth

They call him Shakesleg or Dogpiece from his little fortune booth,

Outside Southwark Pier after his dance with the ageing cat

From which he tells the past, not the future, in his famous History plays


(Nice trick, that)

`
Forsooth! Forsooth! He doesn't always tell the truth
He thinks he's in a bar in a boat in yon hielands
Though they say he's on the mend
He thinks his name is Shakebark or Mallory Park
But he'll soon be back on the Scotch.

Speaking of being "on" scotch.....




There's a lake of stew,
And of whiskey too.
You can paddle all around it
in a big canoe
On the Big Rock Candy Mountain....

Whisky is for Christmas
It stays in cupboard till then
I’m partial to a beer
I have them time and time again
I went to see me doctor
Your liver fine he penned
So only 24 weeks to go
And whisky out again

Glad to hear your liver's okay.
I met it at a party yesterday.

Brandy is just dandy
But whisky makes me sick
I'd rather have a shandy
Than drink a drop of it.

Alcohol is good for your heart,
But it may not be the answer.
True, your heart gets stronger, but
You're more inclined to cancer.

I'm off to "The Rock" on Sunday, where they all like a good strong drink
Every day on "The Rock" is a fun day, and I'm not a lot of fun, they'll think
Because I am still on the wagon; because I have signed the pledge
While the barbery apes all monkey around I'll be just sitting there on edge
Maybe they'll offer me brandy; maybe they'll pour me a Scotch
Maybe the girls will get randy, and maybe they'll ask me to watch
But I'll have nothing to offer; I'll only to bore off their pants
While they're getting drunk I will lie on my bunk; no thoughts of romance
Drinking water for my entertainment, I'll thrill as it slips down my throat
While they skinny dip, the anchor I'll slip, and take a dry trip in a boat.

I'm going to the kitchen sink
with my pet mink to give each other a cold drink
and sit down at the breakfast table
which is guilt with gold and coloured sable
as I read out aloud the Eagle and the Arrow, an Aesop Fable.
This puts my pet mink into a deep sleep
and never makes a peep even when the sheep outside begin to bleat
until wakes up with a start when hearing the words food
and darts out in the back garden wearing a cloak with a hood
shouting out that he can do perform magic spells
and transfiguring the garden gnomes into golden bells.
But instead he starts to fly high up to the sky
screaming for a bag of french fries and a joke whizzing tie.
Making the sheep roll about laughing
as they see the mink land on my cottage's straw roofing
start dancing and prancing and glancing
around for good places for romancing.
Eventually comes down and transfigures the sheep into clowns
wearing long flowing gowns and golden crowns.
This spell only lasts until twilight
where they turn back into sheep who are very polite
to knights and sprites and their unusual rites
for wearing gossamer gusset support tights
that make them feel light and extremely bright
and a cause a great deal of excitement
about their remedy in banishing potato blight
to all the owners of allotments wonder and amazement.

There was an sparrow who flew straight as an arrow
when flying over the garden barrow
nearby the vegetable patch where there are marrows
and a pile of hats including sombreros.

The sparrow who's path in life was narrow
and never gambled not even the card game of faro
even though she learned it when visiting Portugal
visiting her pen pal called Val who worked at the Faro chaparral.

The sparrow, the sheep and the mink
Set sale in an old kitchen sink.
They discovered new lands
Full of dismembered hands,
Which soon was to drive them to drink.

Harikay calling
Harikay brawling
Harikay stalling
Harikay falling
Harikay bawling
Harikay crawling
Harikay sprawling

Got lost in thought in the supermarket queue
felling bored and very blue
with polish for my shoes and a huge tube of superglue
when I met up with Sue and Hugh who were practising the pas de deux
as they getting their shopping paid which were dvd's of how to speak Urdu
and the art of Kung Fu and tae kwon do
as they boasted that they have the fastest growing Yew.

Well I said to them that I don't wanna make another shepherds pie
or have another meal eating offal especially lambs fry
and chop strong flavoured onions that makes eyes cry
or have to make curry when I'm in a hurry
especially when I'm going to Surrey to meet up with Murray
who's a swell guy who's very sweet but very shy
and who would like to learn how to fly and become fit and spry.

Cause I don't wanna walk
around the office block to draw a picture with chalk
of a grandmother clock or Blackpool rock.
Cause I don't wanna climb a mountain to see a hawk
or go with you to cheese and wine party to drink hock
wine wearing a smock dress and take photos at the Loch
waiting for the Loch Ness Monster boasting that he's been to Bangkok.

So here goes Dewey with his shopping buggy
filled with paid ingredients for chop suey
as his usual diet was making him feel jaded and full of ennui
and lifted up his appetite when it ever was hot and muggy
which he ate when watching his favourite cartoon Hong Kong Fuey
which was making his neighbours go screwy
so to placate them he gave them bottles of chablis and a boxes of vintage tea .

Shout out hurrah to Francois
who's always in awe
of those who members of the bourgeois
and drink Stella Artois
after they have been to a health spa
and get fitted for a custom made bra
even if they are a sailor tar.