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

The world doesn't need another loudmouth.
It's got more than enough already.
How much work does it take to sound uncouth,
As opposed to balanced, mature, and steady?

Come and sample my home made creme brulee
steeped in all types of spirits
but don't have to much or it will lead you astray
and lead you away from healthy foods such as corn grits.

I had some fine grits in Atlanta.
Each morning, 'twas grits that I ran ta.
My hotel room was nice.
They always had ice
On my dresser, inside a decanta.

So I say to the dray
let's pray to the donkey that loves to bray
when riding on a snow sleigh
to get down to the valley cafe
and say hello to Jose and his laughing toupee.

I think I better leave right now
before I starting talking to the brick wall
about setting up a networking site with a cow
that thinks it's a cat and loves to meow
about selling superhuman powers from my market stall.

Before I fall any deeper
down the road drains with the road sweeper
who' says he knows where there are magic potions that are a lot cheaper
and that keep you healthy and free from the grim reaper
but are sold by the one and only town park keeper.

This is not about anything in particular.
On subject matters I'm no stickler.
You wanted a story?
Make do with the glory
Of not being too perpendicular.

Stan is a fan of the white man van
and sports a very fake tan.
An avid watcher of TV soaps
watching their sorrows and hopes
and is engrossed in the soaps drama
when wearing his pajamas shouting for his Mamma.

One morning I stood on my head.
The next day I jumped on the bed.
The next morning after,
I hung from the rafter.
"Let's do something safer," Dad said.

Baby, since I felt your charms
when you held me in your arms
protecting me from all harm
when you take me to the dairy farm.

Take me to a far off place
to escape from the rat race
and where we'll learn how to make lace
and how to play the cello base.

Where we'll have lots of choice
about changing the tone of our voice
when reading the works of James Joyce
which makes us want to rejoice at listening to Max Boyce.

I've never trusted my griddle.
It seems like an interesting riddle.
My pancakes, it seems,
Come apart at the seams,
And end up like small piles of piddle.

I try to eat an apple
You would think I could be quite dapple
but my teeth they are gone
and I spew it on the lawn
now how do you suppose that did happle?

Run to the hills to experience all the spills and thrills.
Run for you life all they way to the town of Fife.
Don't forget to take your chill pills
or you'll start sprouting fins and gills.
You'll be free from all sorrow and strife
and the freedom to train to become a midwife.

(Inspired by Iron Maiden)

I sat with Isaac Newton 'neath a tree.
Apples fell on him and on me.
We analyzed them thoroughly in our lab.
We wrote our report and hopped in a cab.

Meanwhile, apples fall *up* in another universe.
It's harder to pick them, and they taste much worse.

Go and rock around the Tilbury Dock
looking for your lost sock
which was taken by your dog called Jock
and is hid at one of Tilbury's tower blocks
along with a bag of shepherd's smocks
and wigs made of golden hair locks
as well as alarm clocks with strange sounding tick tocks.

My clock has a built-in alarm.
So far, it has not come to harm.
I nervously wait
For the odd stroke of fate
When I wake up on somebody's farm

They came, they went, and fell asleep
driving in their hybrid powered jeeps
to come and observe the antics of the sheep
who bleat when they try to leap
over the dykes and land up in one big heap.

I'm frying my living room rug.
Meanwhile, my heart feels a tug.
It's my favorite, you know.
In the pan, see it glow!
My dinner guest will be a thug.

I want you to love me like I'm a fashionable guy
who tries to look cool by wearing a clown's bow tie
and cries when chopping onions to put in my stir-fry
which is a recipe given to me by an intergalactic spy.

Keep thinking of me, doing what you like
by riding on my tandem or my mountain bike
or even go on on a hike to the Sheepwash Dyke
to go and fish for pike along with my friend Mike.

So boy, forget about the planet
or dressing up as suffragette playing on the cornet
or riding in a horse drawn cabriolet
thinking of ways of baking the best baguette.

I drink fine red wine,
when walking in a straight line,
down to the river Tyne,
which makes me feel divine.

Rosso joined with me and his pet crow,
who went to mow a meadow,
with a bottle of red wine bordeaux,
and a very large picnic basket,
which contains slices of cold brisket.

There was a large flask of homemade broth,
and another flask had coffee with added froth.
Lots of different types of salad,
provided by my Mam and Dad,
who are coming with us all clad in plaid,
along with their guitars and will both sing a hobbit ballad.

There'll be breadsticks along with a cheese picks and mix.
Along with plenty of savoury and sweet munchies,
as well as chocolate and ice cream crunchies.
There'll be all types of pork pies,
along with mini pizzas and french fries.
To drink there'll be ice cool lemonade,
which is homemade and a sun umbrella to help keep us cool in the shade.
And to pass the time, we'll play with our boxes of magic tricks.

It's actually can be very tiring dancing when it makes your knee jerk.
And it gives you the urge to smirk at Dirk who drives in a merc.
Dirk thinks he's the real Star Trek Captain Kirk,
even at other times he thinks that he's Wolverine who's always going berserk.

LA LA LA

LAst day,
TOday,
To have your Say,
Cos hootoo will be Away,

No more virtual space,

so I will get myself a a and get my end away

May I have this dance, the last dance of the night?
I know our relationship has not been very bright,
But still I care for you, and hope you care as well.
One last dance before we take the rabbit hole to h*ll.