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

Fed up, miserable, invisible, unvalidated, disrespected, bored. Going out to get laid.

Why? You still rate with me. You're not jealous are you that the editor picked me? Don't mean a thing.
Talk to me - but I've gotta go and cook my dinner (and then eat it) so no hurry.
Don't be sad.
Bri

I'm not mad with you about being picked for Editors choice. That story was good. You promised not to say horsey things to me and then suggested I was stalking you or something, when all I'd done was grab a quick look at the site after coming in from town and going to fetch my car! Look, I'm dripping all over the study, I've just stepped out of the bath and the towel has slipped, so the study carpet is wet - is this too much information?

Makes me wish I was a student again.
What are you saying? I don't remember any of this. D'you think I'd say anything that might get in the way of your one way ticket to the Cote D'Azur?
Talk some more - I love it.
Bri

well you should remember what you said. It was after I left you a message I think, on your personal page. I'm all dried now and got my make up back on. And you must remember you promised not to say horsey things to me - so dont!! I tell you, I dont want that connection. And you still dont know what I dreamed of about you, but I see you have been telling Russ Jones about it - so it must have got to you! Got to dash. I am seriously going out with my mate Sarah, only other option is to stay in with boring DAvid and you wouldnt want me to do that would you? I promise not to get into any mischief - at least, not any I couldnt tell you about tomorrow! Good to speak to you again, but remember no horsey jokes!

Enjoy - but be good.

It's 11.20pm here now and I've just come in, so I expect you're in bed already. Can I get in with you? We didnt go out, we stayed at Sarah's and had a glass of red wine and a girlie gossip and a whinge about men (some of them, anyway!). I wish I was with you. Will you talk to me tomorrow? Night, night.

Actually, you probably wouldnt want me in your bed, as I'm not tired yet, so I'll probably fidgit about and get you mad! I'll go and have a cup of tea and get into my own bed instead!

well, having been in bed with you for the last eight hours, I'd have thought you might have got me a cup of coffee by now! Looks like I'll have to go and get my own!

Hi Scribbo,
Lovely to be back on cuddly terms with you once again. When you're nice, you're very very nice. Now sit up, lean back on these couple of pillows and drink tyour coffee. I shall be downstairs cooking your breakfast. Can't you smell those eggs and bacon sizzling away?
Bri

NOOOO! I dont do breakfast. Just coffee. Lots and strong, please. But dont ask me to eat until at least 11.30am Sorry to sound ungrateful! Nice thought though.

Hi Scribbo,
Lovely to be back on cuddly terms with you once again. When you're nice, you're very very nice. Now sit up, lean back on these pillows and drink your coffee. I shall be downstairs cooking your breakfast. Can't you smell those eggs and bacon sizzling away?
Bri

Ooops - dunno what happened there. Okay, no breakfast till later. So - what do we do now?
Bri

Hmmmmmnnnn? Come here and I'll show you!

Better turn this site off whilst I leave the study, dont want David seeing THESE messages! Back in a minute xxxxxxxxx

Don't be long!!!

Ok. I'm back. This is lovely coffee by the way. Now what's our plans for the day? When we finally get out of bed, that is. Have you something really nice lined up for us to do?
Scribbo x

Well,for starters, I've written a little poem, specially for you. Do want to read it?

Weeeellll. Is it nice?

Is it nice - well really - anyway, you tell me.

Falling So Easily

Nowadays,
as easily as a bee burrows
to the heart of a rose, morning moist,
I fall in love, you know.

All it takes is a glimpse
of petal flesh between
two darkling orbs.
Or that tiny ocean of silk
spanning thigh and belly,
rising, falling to the rhythm
of its own exotic tide lore.

Your shoulder blade, skin surfing,
slick as any dolphin.
Or rump, one moment rumpled,
next, smooth as ice in cognac.
Any or all of these, just a glimpse
and I fall in love, you know.

Your voice, too, pins me down with joy,
its song holding me helpless.
An arc of jewelled fingers,
graceful as peacock plumes.
An eye pupil, black as unshed tears,
or lips clinging for a second,
heralding their smile-burst.

Your hair, oh I fall for the way it falls,
and wherever, even the darkest place.
Last of all, especially, when I scent
that elemental, odorous breeze
that calls out, Woman,
I fall in love, you know.

Nowadays,
as easily as frost, melting in the sun,
turns to mist you never see again,
I fall in love, you know.

Nice or what?
Bri