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

Just a general update for the last two weeks, as I believe there are some incidents which may be of entertainment value when seen from my point of view.

Firstly, last week one of the pipes involved in the warming of our house split, and sprayed our airing cupboard a nice, uniform shade of 'wet'.
We called out British Gas, and an obnoxious, bad- tempered guy came out to have a look at it. He put some tape round a bit of the pipe, and true to British Gas' "We'll have you sorted in 24 hours!" policy, they can't do anything for another two weeks.

On that self same day, the washing machine decided to die. A man supposedly knowledgable in this area was called out. He pulled a plectrum, a penny and a peanut out of the filter, charged is £5 for the privilege and left. It still didn't work. We called him out again. He came, and stared at the washing machine for all of about twenty seconds, said he didn't know what it was (whether he meant the washing machine itself or the cause of the problem, I have yet to discover), and left.

As a side note, I feel I must mention a blind spot I have noticed recently regarding my brother and doors, specifically the shutting thereof. I was woken up yesterday by an icicle forming on the end of my nose. Fearing that the central heating had packed up and left for warmer climes, I shivered into my dressing gown and went to investigate. The culprit was the kitchen door, which was perpendicular to the hole it's supposed to block.

On inspecting the front door, even this was not locked or even shut properly, and my brother was the last to leave the house (we generally enter and exit the house by means of the rear door, and the front door is opened to gain access to our wall- mounted post box.)

This is not the first instance of my brother's ignorance of the purpose of doors. On sunday, I left the house around ten minutes after him, and found the back door clowing merrily in a chill breeze, which was rapidly filling the house. Upon arriving at my destination- the same as my brother's ten minutes previous- I found the front door open wide, inviting access to chill winds and opportunist burglars alike.

This, coupled with another of his evident dinner plate/keyboard confusion, leads me to fear for his mental health.

TK[1]

For a brief explanation of official repair men ses the movie "Brazil". it will reveal the insurmountable problems of calling them (re: Robert De Niro's role)

As for brother's lack of decorum... can you kick him out? Otherwise follow him around everyday and make sure every door he opens is closed properly leaving your life a waste but having the door closed at least.

Make sure also that he pays the excess heating bill before he leaves so that he understands why he needs to close the doors at the next house he lives in.

On the other hand if your brother is so rich that the bills are of no consequences economically then choose either to stay and suck up to him or leave yourself. "Family" only goes so far in my book. Open door are invitations for so many things to happen that they are hard to enumerate here. Some are pleasant but most are nasty and we dont really want to know for sure do we.

Ha ha ha!



You talk in an amusing way; and what you talk about is made more humourous because of how you say it.

>>Oh, I like how the Witty Britons talk.<<

I don't talk with the accent of British Wit. But I have a family line from Dorchestershire; and I think I have the same wit as you do because of my direct bloodline.

However, I am also Irish and French. All three are in a triangle facing each other and then there is my Polish blood in the middle of that situation. I sometimes feel very conflicted.

I have French sentiment, by which I am bold with arrogance.
I have Irish fight. Which means that when I seen two people fighting, I then go up to them and say:

"Is this just your fight or can anyone join in?"

I have a marvelous British sense of humour, wit, and possibly good-looks (hey, I have seen that there is such an occurance of good-looking Brits).
Hmmm... this side mostly is in conflict with the French and the Irish.

My French side says, "I snoot at you, you English ka-nig-et!"
My Irish side also says, "Yeah! I can fight 'em"
My British blood, in response, does not freak out but remains cool.
Perhaps, my logic arises because of my British bloodline.

Then, finally, there is my poor besieged sentiment that comes from my Polish blood. Poor dear.

Overall, to backtrack, I like the way you talk because you express your British Wit so well!

Wit and humour idn't a British bloodright, by any means. I know plenty of people who are as dry as a bone- have indeed lost the bucket- when it comes to sampling the well that is comedy.

I think what is generally labelled as 'British' comedy is usually a mixture of general observation with surreally overextended metaphor, and a true understanding of sarcasm and irony. I know sarcasm is generally denoted as the lowest form of humour, but this is only by those with no real understanding of. Sarcasm is much more than simply saying no when you mean yes. And irony, well... such a simple area from which to farm humourous devices, yet so many people find it difficult to understand... It is widely accepted that the average American and Canadian has no understanding of the concept at all, a belief that is more solidly cemented every time I see mention of it in anything produced that side of the pond. Just look at Ms Morrisette(sp?)'s song 'Ironic'. The only ironic thing about that song is that nothing contained within it is actually ironic.

Another fuel for 'British' comedy is the very British passtime of complaining constantly about anything and everything without actually suggesting a resolution. Depression is also a common factor in comedy- look at any well known British comedian (and probably most of other nationalities) and you will see a history of manic- depression and substance- dependancies.

I don't think British genes are responsible for good looks. If they are, then I missed out when those specifically responsible for physical attractiveness were handed out.

I am about as British as you can get- I have mainly English blood, but I am blessed with a large chunk of Welsh, a slightly smaller volume of Irish and a smidgen of Scots.

TK[1]

Well I'm as American as one can be, my family came over in the late 17th century (Quakers) However with a family name like Kent is there any real question as to where we came from?? Frankly, if we were described as having humor then we would have to completely redefine the word (please dont). Within my immediately family so far, four generations of preachers, none of us has one wit of humor, at least I can sometimes understand it but laughing is so foreign to us that our faces would fall apart if we so much as felt like laughing. I'm trying to overcome this defect and not doing so well.

Yes the English sense of humor is a wonderful thing. My own sensitivity goes to such drole items as "The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin" Or the "Rumpole of the Bailey" does anyone even remember them? Mostly here in America at least, we are filled with awe for such unhumorous items as "Masterpiece theatre."

A simple aside about irony inserted here: The American "founding fathers" never really wanted a new country they just wanted to be considered at the top of the heap here. What they got was mob rule and "democracy" leading to Bush being our president now. Is that ironic?

*walks into the forum, TK1, then walks back out*

*Runs out of forum, grabs EE and s her*

*stays like that for a while*

TK[1]

Greetings Sir Knight (that is, Temporal Logic)

Okay, here is a question for you:

Is Temporal Bandit coined from the name of the movie called "Time Bandits"?

I just remembered that temporal could also mean time; and I have seen the Time Bandits movie.

Also I am glad that you like sailing because ...ah yeah... a sailing you will go when you tack and cruise through this reading.

************************************************************************

You are one fascinating guy.

I now completely understand why you are fascinating: It is because I like British men.

Yep, I do.

I know you guys aren't supposedly attractive. But just look at Jude Law!!!

Whew! THAT MAN is hot.
...I have to say certainly very attractive.

When I first saw Jude Law, I thought his face was craved by angels.
...I also certainly thought that he would have such beautiful children.

Now you may grumble and fall back on your English criticism and put point out that Jude Law is a celebrity and from *the high and rare echleon* of beautiful men. But I say, "Poo on you. ...Your poverty in confidence in your good looks (and in all Englishmen's good looks) should be divided up and sent among the poor."



I think it is positively wonderful (something awesome) that you are English, Welsh and a bit of Scot. I, as you already know, I am French English, Irish, and Polish. This complete mix has worked out quite well for me except I am a maniac.

I am absolute maniac. Now, because of your confession, I understand why I can be absolutely enthusiastic and then to that of being utterly depressed. Not because I am a manic depressive but a maniac like how ironic English people are.

Also, you are right. I must guess that the English have a sense of irony that is unmatched as of yet by any other nation. However, I do not know better. So, I could prove you wrong. Hmmm...

I am absolutely fascinated with the English. However they piss off my French Canadian sentiment. Mon Dieu, mon zit, chalise, esti.

I mostly curse in the French manner when I get ruffled.



Oh, speaking of French curses:

The French language is simply wonderfully suited to curse.
...It is like wiping your ass with silk. I simply love it.

If you've seen the 2nd and 3rd Matrix movies, then you will know that I just quoted the Frenchman (-->>Well the latter dot dot dot part was the actual quote). In fact, the Frenchman is my favourite character because I am always amazed that the villian is somehow French.

I simply love my French background and up-bringing in mannerism. Also French cuisine (that is, cooking) is supposedly much better than English cooking. But I can't really confirm this except by the heresay that the English do not use olive oil or wine in their dishes.

How can you live without wine? Wine is simply a necessity to keep the arteries clean from tallow (that being, cholestrol). However, you can always drink grapefruit juice like I do.

Well...

...I grew up with French Canadian sentiment because my mom is a mighty French fortress.

Now, you may say that the French fortress is not so great because of how it got blitzkrieged. But my mom, the French fortress, is not that type run by imbeciles.

[C'est idiots I say to how the French fortresses had collapsed because of the WW2 blitzkrieg.]

Yep, my mom is a force to be reckoned with and best not ignored. Thanks to her, I grew up believing that to curse in French is far more acceptable (because of its eloquoence) compared to that in English.

LOL

Now I am describing genealogy and my family's humourous mannerism and background.

Overall, I just love French snootiness (kind of like the English except more like silk wiping the ass); and I just love English people in general except the assholes.

************************************************************************

Well Sir Knight, I am glad that you have accepted my fascination with you.



You will notice more and more the stuff that I am moving in. Soon you will get an overall picture of me.

>>You can read up on ME!,
and you can interpret me as you will.<<

I will have to keep my posts here to a smidgen.

Sheesh I get to writing an ocean and I leave those words floating until they are inevitably deleted, erased, or relegated to the forgotten realms of Internetland.

It's not from Time Bandits, but I have seen that film. It's good

I'm no Jude Law. We don't all look like Jude Law. I certainly don't even come close. In fact, I could explain it by saying my face was made using the bits that the angels carved off Jude's face.

You missed out the Irish- there's Irish in me too.

I look forward to interpreting you

Sorry I haven't replied to everything, but my brain hurts.

TK[1]

I seem like a third person in a two handed game of rummy but I cannot help but note the total incomprehensibility of the French language.

So much is either not pronounced or sounds the same that I just cannot make heads or tails of it. It is a little like the Latin though and that work well for me. (yeah I took first semester French at university and got out before I went insane!)

After trying to understand the French I know why your brain hurts.

I'm out of here now for good
adieu

Your brain hurts?!

You should watch Killer Clowns From Outspace. That movie will make your brain hurt.

I have finished my tour de force. But I haven't slept since 2am of not last night but the night before that.

I've missed a night's sleep, and I am severely feeling the effects.

Because I am now missing details, being absent-minded...

I will sleep. But not until it is dark in where I live.

Ah, I should post a map with the mark that shows where I exist.

Thanks for showing up.



Actually I never played rummy, but I would like to.

Also French is very eloquoent once you get a firm hand on it. At that point, you get to simply deftly use it. But let me tell you that I am not a perfect speaker of French: I can really only curse in it in the most eloquoent fashion.

I was mostly raised as an Anglophone.