Ford Prefect: How would you react if I told you that I’m not from Guildford after all, but from a small planet somewhere in the vicinity of Betelgeuse?
Arthur Dent: I don’t know. Why? Do you think it’s the sort of thing you’re likely to say?
Ford Prefect: Drink up. The world’s about to end.
Arthur Dent: This must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays.
Why Rhino House?
“The boys were all feeling rough
Dear God we’d all had enough……
And the dressing room was filthy & cold
With orange wallpaper, 40 years old.
It stank like a Rhino House.”
Who is the jester figure?
His name is Hugo, & no, I don’t know why he looks miserable.
What is a charivari & why is ThursdayAgain almost one?
1. a discordant mock serenade (often to newlyweds), made with instruments & mock-instruments such as pans, kettles, etc. Usually delivered in the form of a parade.
2. a confused noise; din
[from French, from Late Latin caribaria headache, from Greek karēbaria, from karē head + barus heavy].
As a blog, ThursdayAgain has the advantage of only being a very small din, is only mildly confused (or concussed, if you prefer) & can be enjoyed indoors – hence “almost”.
Should I take advice from the Agony Aunts or plan based on the ThursdayAgain horoscopes?
Do try & keep up……
Martin Schulz, the president of the European parliament, used a speech to all 28 European leaders last night, which included the following.
“I refuse to imagine a Europe where lorries and hedge funds are free to cross borders but citizens are not,” he said.
Billy’s solution to the problem of the cold weather he had to endure on his ride to work was ingenious, although the inclusion of a boiler, battery and fuel and water tanks on a separate trailer, did rather render the whole system a little too unwieldy for everyday use.
Even after a long and blameless life, Pete was something of a bore whenever he got a chance to bang-on about his career in computing.
With kind permission from Randy Glasbergen.
It was only when Pete was knocked back by the Fire Dept. after his fifth unsuccessful job interview that people really began to notice him, his somewhat eccentric fashion choices and his ongoing problem with rejection.
“OK guys, I’ve found the slot and boy, are we eating well tonight. Anybody got a quarter?”
Dear Agony Aunts
Where are you, where did you go, how could you have abandoned me, just when I needed your advice most?
Since I last wrote to you (in 2014!!!) my “little problem” as I think I called it, has rather resolved itself (I was pregnant, and it was twins). Kevin, my fiancé, did a runner the moment I went into labour and is now working in a car park somewhere in the Australian outback – and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.
Now the problem is, and I hope you won’t think I’m being silly, that over the last year or so Kev’s brother Ndabaningi (same mum, different dads) has been a tower of strength and has helped me lots with the twins, even letting us stay in his bedroom at his mum’s house. Well I remembered what Kev had said about you can’t get pregnant if you do it standing up and there’s no space in Ndabaningi’s room to lie down when I’m there with the twins, so I’m sure everything is alright in that department. But, I’m putting on weight really fast again (I’m afraid I do still love the “chips’n’chox” platter down at the local Chinese) and Ndabaningi is starting to look worried and keeps visiting web sites offering cheap long-distance flights.
How can I reassure him that “lightning doesn’t strike twice,” and maybe at the same time lose a little weight without giving-up one of my few remaining pleasures?
Dear “Choco lover”
Sorry about the hiatus. We’ve been doing important work in the prison system, unplanned and largely as a result of some one “grassing us up” over the little crystal meth plant which was a source of both entertainment and profit for us in our declining years, but we’re now back (released on license) and ready to help with advice on all of life’s little problems.
We’re to going to dwell on past mistakes and we’d advise you to adopt the same attitude, because we were taken by surprise by the filth (literally) we’re sorry that we didn’t have time to deal with your first e-mail. Now however our advice is pretty much what it would have been a couple of years ago, and we’re afraid the bad news is that Kev may not have been completely straight forward with you in the matter of contraception. We’d strongly recommend that you destroy Ndabaningi’s passport and sit down with him to calmly discuss your joint future (possibly with the aid of a cattle prod). A couple of hours should ensure that he understands where his duty lies and from then on all should be plain sailing until the confinement.
We’d suggest naming your next little bundle of joy not after his father but someone with a name both easier to spell and easier to shorten (but probably not “Kev”).
It’s good to be back.
Love can be no tougher….
Do fantasy, fervour and fanaticism Trump facts?