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

Medium length. No pictures. (First installment of my trip to West Wales.) http://snailrind.livejournal.com/65528.html

http://snailrind.livejournal.com/65731.html

A series of short to medium entries on realising dreams. No pictures, because I'm in Greece and can't upload any yet.

I thought that was a quite long stay at your mum's...

I actually had a great time at her place too, and an interesting adventure involving pheasants, but I haven't got round to blogging it.

http://snailrind.livejournal.com/65933.html

A series of short to medium entries on diving and old friends. No photos. Yet.

http://snailrind.livejournal.com/66078.html

A self-indulgently long entry on being out all night on a dinner date. Eventually, there will be photographs. But not of the bit where I am doing a drunken strip-tease in the middle of the taverna during the Rugby World Cup, because that bit didn't happen.

Just the usual pheasant-plucking & diving with fiends stuff then?

I shall have a quick shufty. I was playing with my fonts earlier (as you do) & came across one called

<<>>

Oh gawd, thay are interviewing James Blunt on French radio, i think i am going to vomit & have a nosebleed, he is about to murder Cat Stevens songs.

zdt

Yeah, 'twas with an old fiend.

Tw Cen? Twentieth Century? I feel like I'm missing something here.

And whatever did the world do to deserve James Blunt?

Celine Dion & Vanessa Paradis. We need a small but perfectly formed sack in which they can wail competitively "AAAAAAAAAAh, woe is me; i am Rich, Upper Class, A Sex Symbol, Can Sing in Tune & Relate TO Nasty Stuff" & a stack of Marshall amps in the shape of & large mounds of rocks to hurl.

Then they shall repent & be reborn as something useful. Like a singing cheese-grater; with an Off Switch. As the Welsh said "pass the Care, filly"

I just get unsqueakably angry when i read stuff like this. 50 yr old woman with multiple medical probs, who had tried all her life to be as independent as possible, collapses in the street ('cos she is attempting to haul back a heavy load of lino for her little house: not everyone has a car)

So: Ye Local Yobbo's come & , chuck water over her, then pee on her, cover her with shaving foam & call their mates to photo it on mobiles "This will be great for You Tube!"


http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/tees/7063366.stm

However, fame & fortune is no respecter of death either; i find it horrific that "it has been reported" during the inquest into the deaths of Diana Spencer, Dodi Fayed & Henri Paul that press photographers "may" have appeared to have had "a good gory scoop" picture of the crash as their instinctive priority, rather than the instinct to actually attempt to help the injured victims.

I must be a very odd person & maybe this is why i am not rich & famous. I was a photographer & in many disaster scenarios; i didn't even contemplate the camera, i tried to rescue the person; however, once i'd done that & got the Emergency Services involved; yeah, if i had had my wits about me i should have taken shots of a guy with melting skin & a boat exploding. I should have taken shots of earthquakes & invasions & floods & dying dogs & begging lepers & publicised their plight.

But having fallen in the street myself (let's not talk about the really morbid stuff on here!) my main feeling was humiliation & "why is everybody staring at me/ i want to run away/i am totally helpless/this is Not Me"....

A totally drunk street woman fell over in the supermarket today, luckily she has a Man & Daughter who picked her up; everyone else just looked away. I asked daughter "is she OK?" she just said yeah; she bounces; have you got some spare change?"

But when she eventually doesn't bounce, at least man & daughter will maybe get some publicity out of the State funeral & the story. The Woman who got peed on had a brother who has a nice interview from BBC. Tee-hee; i have absolutely No family whatsoever & am living in a Strange (but mainly harmless European) land....i doubt anyone will know, care or profit from my death other than Yodawho, if she has any sense will eat me & learn how to chew through cat food packets.....surely there must be some service for microchipping your pets or something, so if they don't "check in" after a couple of days, someone comes to check the owner isn't dead & unable to care for the animal?

Weird! Was i supposed to do something? Just existing seems a bit wasteful really....i didn't even mlanage to breed so my genes die with me (Singing in D raiN Ay?)

And then the likes of That Lot Up Top of Post start wailing about how unhappy they are.

zdt

Yes! We need to get us some of them singing cheese graters.

New Life for the Valleys.

We shall not Dai. Flats belting out sharps. Bring back Tom Jones & Burly Chassis;Sod the sheep, a baa is just a place to sell elbow patches (careful observation will reveal local drunken bore, tin ore, coal, gold, well shafted, Huw knows what lode he has to bare.)

I blame that Charlotte Church meself.Chapel & a starched usurplus would have been much more morally uplifting.Bad case of blue tongue, that one.

Sconces. That is what we need. Scones piled high on sconces; melting tallow, wicks, reeds, rushes & goats.

zdt

Wow! How do you do that? Build a beautiful sense of place and community out of a series of (excellently) terrible puns?

*Grovels in ore.*

I just wish I understood half of it!?

The talking of toot is clearly an art not lost on Terri. Damned fine toot.

*Sigh*

'Tis 'cos 'tis amalgam; not anagram. Get yer R'ses mixed up with yer continents & vowels & continental waits & no amount of winged gods in yer gob will stop the rot. Weil; ja?

zdt

http://snailrind.livejournal.com/66504.html

Medium length. 4 pictures. Not for those who dislike T******n.

Toytown?

I am not afraid of Golliwogs or PC Plod & if i find Noddy & Big Ears tother in bed, i'm fine with that. Enid Blyton sorted all that out at an early age.

Did you see Gnomon's Guide Entry on Gerald Durrel? VGood, i giggled & thought of you.... & actually made it as far as leaving a comment.

zdt

T******n?

Not... um... T*nnys*n, by any chance?

Nowt wrong with Son Of Tuna Fish, semi-clad half-drowned melancholy ladies are sometimes just the jobbie young Ivan.

If it helps, you could try renaming stuff: "That wet Sheila with the leeks" is probably acceptable Oz translation. Add an abused golliwog & we have succesfully offended most people.

*No water-lilies or punts were harmed in this posting*

zdt