Oh flundered gruntbuggly,Donallitude Thy micturations are to me As plurdled donally On a lurgid bee That mordiously hath bitled out Its earted grabatiously Into a rancid festering Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts And living glupules frart and slipulate Like jowling meated liverslime Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes And hooptiously drangle me With crinkly bindlewurdles, Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon See if I don't.
#4
SeraRelm
You just want to be... Loved?
#5
sixpackshaker
ah, Vogon poetry just like Mother used to write.
#6
Sparhawk
The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy has this to say about towels: A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-bogglingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.
#7
Hylian
I should be sitting home drinking Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters but sadly all of the other techs at work called out (Claiming to have Doctors appointments) so I had to show up are else there wouldn't be any techs in at all.
