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Everybody's Free to Carry a Towel

This is our obligatory "Everybody's Free (to wear sunscreen)" parody, posted to %afda by Kenny Hutchings on 7th July 1999


Ladies and Gentlemen of the froup of '99

Carry your towel.

The benefits of carrying your towel have been proven by the misadventures of Ford Prefect, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than some gibbering Englishman whose planet was destroyed and he still can't find a cup of tea.

I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your planet. Oh never mind, you will not understand the power and beauty of your planet until the Vogons come along and demolish it, but trust me, in twenty years, you'll look back through the records in the local planning office, and realise just how many McDonalds there were on the planet, and how froody they all really looked.

You are not having as much difficulty with your lifestyle as you imagine.

Don't worry about Stavromula Beta, or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to wave a towel at a non-existent ship suspended at a crossroads in time. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things you can't even control, the kind of thing that gets eaten by an enormous mutant star goat on some idle Thursday.

Steal one ship every day that scares you.

Don't be reckless in other people's dimensions, don't put up with people playing Ultra-Brockian Cricket in yours.


Don't waste your time on Playbeing. Sometimes its surveys are right, sometimes they're wrong, but the universe is large, and in the end, it only applies to Ursa Minor Beta.

Remember Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters you receive, forget the Nutri-Matic (If you succeed in doing this, tell me how).

Keep your old guide entries, throw away the thing your aunt gave you (which you don't know what it is).


Don't worry if your robot ends up talking to mattresses. All the depressed robots I know ended up talking to the secretary at Megadodo publications. Some of the most depressed robots I know are still waiting around at the end of the universe.

Get plenty of protein. Be kind to your Thumb. You'll miss it when it's gone.

Maybe you'll find the answer, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll find the question, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll find the ruler of the universe. Maybe you'll still be stuck with that robot. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or you'll end up like Zaphod.
Your chances are slim, but so are everybody else's.

Enjoy Breathe-O-Smart! Breathe it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it's the most reliable climate control you'll ever possess.

Sleep. Even if you have nowhere to do it but in a spaceport. Read the safety directions, even if you don't follow them. Do not read the guide, it will only make you feel insecure.

Get to know your parents. You never know when you'll need to call them back for a sťance.

Be nice to your braincare specialist. They're your best link to your enemies and the ones most likely to charge you a huge bill if you aren't.

Understand that birds come and go. Only a precious few can get you an RW6. Work hard to be reverse engineered into the loop, because the moment you are, bang, it's gone, and the bird is off with the totty with the rock.

Live on NowWhat once, but leave before it makes you hard.

Live on Saquo-Pilia Hensha once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel. Accept certain inalienable truths. Agrajag will die, Disaster Area will be loud, you too will change history. And when you do, you'll fantasise that before, Agrajag lived, Disaster area were quiet, and Vogons respected their superiors.

Respect your superiors.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you'll have an infinite expense account, maybe you'll have a really clever robot, but you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your arms, or by the time you're finished, you'll have grown an extra one.

Be careful whose advice you take, but present coupons to those who supply it. Advice is something you can pick up at the spaceport, and the people who give it have moved on to selling gooey chocolate cakes.

But trust me on the towel.


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