Ode to My Lifetime Achievements At This Particular Point in Time Through the Dubious Media of Vogon Poetry – by Arthur Dent

Hey all!

Ready for Towel Day?!

For any of you that have read any of the novel I am posting on this website (In That Other Dimension), it’s possible that you have already guessed one of the biggest influences in my writing – the genius that was Douglas Adams.

Now, if any of you haven’t read the epic masterpiece that is “The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” series, seriously, what have you been doing with your life?! Get to the nearest bookshop, buy it, and prepare to laugh. A lot.

The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide is unlike any other book I’ve ever read in my life, in terms of originality, imagination, silliness and compulsiveness. The characters are brilliant and ridiculous, the places they go to are brilliant and ridiculous and the storyline, surprisingly, is brilliant and ridiculous. And despite Adams’ undeniable silliness, it is also unbelievably clever. Anyway, if you’ve read it, well done, you know this already.

Towel Day (otherwise known as Geek Pride Day) is the 25th May. In honour of Douglas Adams’ life and works, I hope you are carrying a towel and that it’s still clean enough for drying yourself. If you’re not, at least take the time to write some Vogon Poetry at lunchtime here.

As HHG fans will know, Vogon poetry is the third worst in the known universe. This is a Vogon.

To celebrate Towel Day, I’ve posted some Vogon Poetry, previously unseen and written by the HHG’s main character, Arthur Dent. In a bizarre slice of luck this close to Towel Day, it was delivered to me by the white mouse who lives in a box of porridge in my kitchen cupboard.  It contains “in jokes”, terrible humour and poor rhythm. That’s just the way it is. Under no circumstances should you read this poetry aloud – unless you work in Guantanamo Bay that is.

Ode to My Lifetime Achievements At This Particular Point in Time Through the Dubious Media of Vogon Poetry – by Arthur Dent

 I like hitch-hiking round the galaxy

So I thought I’d write some poetry

Vogon in nature, I hope you I’ll agree

Or I’ll grubble your fruncheons and cut down your tree.

I said before, that I like to travel

I don’t, but I prefer it to gravel.

I like to hit crabs on the head with a gavel

Shouting “Resistance is useless!” as their brains do unravel.

I’m not a Vogon, I’m really a man

A man not a girl like Trillian

She’s a girl I met in Islington

At a party where she left with a two headed man.

Then those wretched Vogon’s destroyed my home

And ever since I’ve been forced to roam.

And roam I do, though not to Rome

Cos Rome’s not there any more.

You’re getting bored so I’ll write faster

So far it’s borderline disaster

I’m desperate for a gargle blaster

Although they hurt the morning after

Last time it got me really pished

I tripped and lost my babel fish

Tout en parlent avec Eccentrica Gallumbits

I was seeing quintuple, that’s fifteen tits!

Marvin doubts that story’s true

So flumbly grumbles and slimbly poo

I hope you’ve got your towel with you

Go enjoy your life and it’s forty two.


If any of you have got this far, you’re obviously big fans of THHGTTG. If so, you probably like my sense of humour and might enjoy my book! Give Chapter 1 a go – it’s only a ten minute read! Thanks 🙂

Fish out.


Copyright © Matty Millard 2012


The Easter Bunny Song.

As it’s nearly Easter I thought I’d be topical for a change, instead of just odd.

If you’ve read any of the other material on my blog so far, you’ve probably noticed my love of silliness, and sarcasm. You won’t be let down here, I promise.

Anyway, here it is. “The Easter Bunny Song”. It never became a song as I mistook my guitar for an Easter egg and ate it, but “The Easter Bunny Poem” just sounds rubbish. 

Warning: if you take things too seriously, please ignore.

The Easter Bunny Song


I’ve always thought it rather funny,

Just think about the Easter Bunny.

And what do bunnies always do??

Parents mustn’t have a clue.


 They let him in on Easter morn,

He sneaks upstairs to their young born,

Armed with chocolate to lure them in

On the day that Jesus was cleansed of sin…



I have a solution which may sound bitter,

We should lock him up with Gary Glitter.

Then like and like can shag like bunnies,

I think that image is kinda funny.


We’ll round them up – get Santa Claus!

The bogey man, and the tooth fairy of course.

And the ultimate voyeur, the Man in the Moon.

We’ll get our human rights back soon.


 I hate to live in a society

Where this kind of thing can happen to me

So I’m going to save you all from this,

But I’ll save you first if you’ve got nice tits.



Fish out




Copyright © Matty Millard 2012



Poems. Ay it?

Good evening all. Today I thought I’d share with you a good bit of black country sarcasm. If you hadn’t noticed from my previous posts, sarcasm and dryness are something which I think I’m rather good at. So here it is. This poem was meant as a song, but it was too depressing for a tune. The tune it wanted to be was too upset to break through the octavian rhythm that whatever it was I thought about four years ago when I wrote it. I assume it was probably beer that caused that. it was uni. Or maybe exams, they were rubbish. The whole point of these words however, was that I was so uninspired that a title just wasn’t neccesary. So here is… “Untitled”. For anyone thats been to my house, its on my wall – if you’ve not noticed.


I’m really bored so gonna write,

A stupid song so full of sh*te,

That it may make my boring life,

Entertaining, for one night.


It’s gonna be a masterpiece,

To live on past when I’m deceased,

It’ll be the best song in the world,

A song everyone will have heard.


My lyrical genius will shine through,

To make you laugh ’til you go blue,

You’ll want to learn all of the words,

So you can impress all the birds.


But as I’m so bored I can’t write,

This work of art this very night,

My inspirations running dry

And I have something in my eye.


Sweet dreams, people.

Fish out.

Matty M

 Copyright © Matty Millard 2012