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

Sometimes when I chew I get completely involved with the sounds in my head. They rumble and crunch better than any construction crew. It also drowns out the psychotic impulse. I intend to have a book published on just such a subject, and am already spending the anticipated forward and percentage.

Hey, I just bought a Yugo!

Showing off because you still have a couple of teeth left Seamus? And what's wrong with a Serb? (He asked in a classic goo skin...under preferences)
..

I thought you more of a Wartburg kinda guy, Seamus.

Try ramming a metal skewer through your head to further control your psychosis, or drilling holes in your skull to relieve the pressure. Let me know how you get on; I'm thinking of writing a book on the relative merits of mediaeval surgical procedures in the treatment of modern day mental illness. If you manage to alter your condition in any significant way, it might just warrant a paragraph or two.

I feel your love, which is more than your complaining boyfriend can say (He considers it his good fortune if you insert a greased baby carrot in lieu of your own detumescent stub). Have you considered your own infirm neocortex? Glass houses my friend, glass houses.

I've just visited your 'personal space' here, which I'm happy to say is a far less wet and windy place than the one on your person.

As for the insertion of greased baby carrots, and boyfriends; that is your area of expertise, and I have no concept of what that entails. You would also do well to realise that your words might be read by gay people here, and result in unwanted advances for me, as well as highly disappointing rejection for them. Remember; gays are people, just like you and...well, just like you (but for the most part cleaner). Only most of them don't perform acts of depravity in greenhouses, like you do. I would guess that they don't have picture windows, for the purpose of displaying themselves to passing traffic, installed in the front of their houses either.

I try to be helpful; and look where it gets me...

Senwad, I see your point...and it is placed quite fast on the top of your noggin.

No, if I were you (and thank Christ that I'm not) I wouldn't worry about advances from the more sensitive men here. I can't imagine, save for a she-goat in heat, anyone being interested in you. Notice dear friend, I did not stress "he-goat", for I know your marked tendency toward frenzy at the mention or sight of any male animal. We're all quite familiar with the incidents at petting zoos, equestrian championships, and your favorite, the dog pound.

*You know, if we keep this up, we're going to get booted from this site before we even get a chance to figure it out...and I blame you.*

Murphy, old bean, I don't see your point; probably because you're using it as a butt-plug.

It's understandable that you don't wish to be me; it can be quite tiresome. Being irresistable to both sexes of all species does indeed have its drawbacks, and your advances are among the most harrowing I can remember. Please stop sending me your worn G-strings, I have no use for soiled 5 ton breaking strain twine that smells like rotting tuna. Besides, it means that I have to keep answering the door to the postman, I don't like the glint in his eye, or the way he drops the post and expects me to pick it up.

*You know, you might actually be right about us getting booted...but it's your fault - you started it; I was just trying to be helpful*

Cad that you are, I admire your free license with reality. Of course we both know that neither sex is endeared to you. What you need is a third...make that fourth sex for your amorous ventures. Something in the line of a conceivably live being, preferably blind, and completely invulnerable to nausea. I shudder to think what has already allowed you to mount it.

Perhaps a diary of your unthinkable and dreary sexual mishaps would bring in a pence or two. It would surely be an instructive in the levels of depravity man can descend to (in your case, gravitate is probably the better word). This could be your entree into the world of literature. Heaven knows I've given up on you actually reading a book as your initiation.

*Help the man who looks to you for assistance. It's obviously a trap you've laid to roust me from my new home. I hate you to pieces*

Not even 24 hours and already the two of you are discussing rectal vegetables and crass trans-Atlantic perversions.
Someone call the tone police
Or pour me a Guinness.

Have a , Dod. You'll feel much better. As for you, Seamus and Sen, try 'What's wrong with H2G2 researchers' at http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/classic/F19585?thread=197502. I think you'll both fit in beautifully.

As you well know; you are the fourth sex that you mention. Neither male, female nor hermaphrodite, you are a seething mass of mucous membranes suckled from the testy teat of a lungfish. Bathing in an ooze of human ambivalence (and pig excrement at weekends for a treat), you seek sexual gratification in any object, animate or otherwise, that crosses your alcohol soaked path.

Get it through your fat laden and self confessedly diseased cranium; I'm not interested in mating with you. Your advances are both unwanted and frankly disturbing.

And you're wrong; I did read a book once, possibly even two.

*Your cry for help is obvious to all but you. Tacit though it may be, it is deafeningly apparent and pathetically needy. Thinking about it; this might just be a case of pathetic fallacy...*

(NB: "pathetic fallacy" - Not to be confused with your 'pathetic phallus' that an ant would ridicule.)

Oh bugger! So HTML doesn't work, eh?

A pox on you and your self-absorbed nattering.

As for my sexual predicament, don't wish so hard. Mate with you? There would be more pleasure in frotting a Brillo pad.

As for cries of help; what you hear results from anguished torment at the knowledge of your fevered existence. Can't you waste away quietly?

And don't count menus as books either.

*Have you read that recommended thread? Rank amateurs, that's what I see! (Although, many thanks to Emee for showing us the way to our true calling)

A pox on me? (but I haven’t let you anywhere near me?)

Oh Seamus; you don’t take rejection well, do you? I can’t empathize, having never suffered it myself, but it being a defining part of your existence; you should be used to it by now.

I’ll have you know they were lengthy menus too.

*Yes, but not all of it; it’s massive (like your greasy nose). Amateurs they surely are, but more than a match for you…guffaw. Good old Emee. Are you going to partake, Seamus?*

At the risk of interupting what is obviously an ongoing pissing contest between senwad and Seamus (in several other threads as well) I'd like to reply (as no one else seems to have done so) to the Journal entry concerning Seamus' recent purchase of a Yugo. I have to ask why anyone would buy a Yugo.

Well no, ...actually I suspect the Yugo is a red herring, or some other form of trolling bait, and has no basis in reality. At least I am inclined to hope so. So, on the assumption that you really aren't that crazy and upon reading much heartening evidence of your enthusiasm for this site, let me just say 'hi' and 'welcome to wonderful world of h2g2', to Seamus. I have the feeling we'll be bumping into each other. No, no, senwad, not that way.

peace
~jwf~

Pissing contest? Hell no; Seamus is the undisputed world heavyweight champion of urine. Faecal matter, methane, mucus, grease, grime, j**m, pus and nose oil too. Blow flies, cockroaches, genital crabs, lice, worms, maggots, dung beetles, weevils, ticks and leeches also. The skunks have recently voted him in as their honorary king, and I’ve heard that a hybrid breed of dog (Bulldog crossed with Shitsu) has announced him as their leader. There can be only one (thank God).
I have no aspirations toward emulating Seamus in any way, despite his assertions.

As for his choice of vehicle; he only wanted it because of its ability to run on unrefined methane. Where other car’s engines roar, his does a Bronx cheer.

"Bumping into each other" and "not that way"? C'mon ~jwf~, who are you trying to fool? Anybody that's ever read Freud...

>> Anybody that's ever read Freud...<<

Yes I am familiar with that good doctor's reputation and have even tried to read a very few of his inpenetrable works. But, while I have recently gained some insight into the Grinch thanks to a tv version, I still find that his green eggs and ham and cats who wear hats are far too ambiguous, in any symbolic lexicon of my own experience, to be of any good use to me or a subject I feel comfortable with.

So perhaps you will forgive my ignorance and allow me the same merciful concession once demanded by his fellow Doctor, the enigmatic Dr Zeuss, who famously said, "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

After all, sometimes a Yugo is just a Yugo. It certainly is never anything more than that. Quite unlike the human body, which surprisingly (if your list is accurate) has more than 9 unpleasant fluids it produces while hosting dozens of parasitic life forms. You couldn't get 9 fluids or a dozen life forms into a Yugo.

peace
~jwf~

Who said anything about him being human? Anyway, your cant isn't lost on me; I am in fact familiar with the video you allude to, and where those people could blow a smoke-ring from was nobody's business; quite appalling! I'm surprised you'd raise the subject in polite company to be honest...

This post has been removed.

You must mean,"What the f*ck is Yugo?"

It's a car, built in Yugoslavia by the same nutter who built the Bricklin in New Brunswick, showed the Ruskies how to make Fiats and call them Ladas, and is currently in...and about to start manufacturing...

The question remains, did or did not Seamus actually purchase one, if so why, and how deep are the weeds around it by now.


~jwf~