Not in real, of course. I managed to read I Was Douglas Adams's Flatmate: And Other Encounters with Legends. It is a wonderful collection of memoirs of hardcore fans, but I am afraid others may find it a bit of a drag.
I also revised Neil Gaiman's Don't Panic. Among other things, I am still alive, still dishing out remarkably mediocre online content, and have bought a new towel. Of course, I am yet to find the meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything, though I daresay mention I have had my fill of krikkit.
It has generally been a normal year. People have been concerned, really concerned about those wretched green bits of paper, despite the fact that the green bits are still not unhappy themselves.
It has generally been a normal year. People have been concerned, really concerned about those wretched green bits of paper, despite the fact that the green bits are still not unhappy themselves.
In a world where some people prefer guns to bats, good things still happens. For example, Waverly Labs have come up with something that may pass as Babelfish! I do not know whether they have gone where they had intended to go, but they have ended up at where they needed to be, which is cool.
There is not much else to say. Just do not venture within four miles of Eccentrica Gallumbits. Do not aspire to become an oral hygienist in Traal or, worse, an electric monk.
May blackness never swim to you the way like a school of eels who have just seen something that eels like a lot.
May non-working cats never cross your way.
May non-working cats never cross your way.
Have fun. I know I do not need to remind you, but do carry a towel. Just in case.
And, needless to say, don't panic.
And, needless to say, don't panic.
May all your bangs be as good as the Big one, and may all your problems remain within the potato-solvable threshold. May you remain a ravenous beast.
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