försöker stå ut i 50-graders värme, jobbets ac har fått mammaledigt eller något för den verkar inte vara här. Kontoret och dess trapphus går knappt att vara i. Har ingen nätverkssladd som räcker så att man kan sitta på uteplattsen och jobba heller.
Here is what to do if you want to get a lift from a Vogon: Forget it. They are one of the most unpleasant races in the Galaxy- not actually evil, but bad-tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous. They wouldn't even lift a finger to save their own grandmothers from the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal without orders signed in triplicate, sent in, sent back, queried, lost, found, subjected to public inquiry, lost again, and finally buried in soft peat for three months and recycled as firelighters. The best way to get a drink from a Vogon is to stick your finger down his throat, and the best way to irritate him is to feed his grandmother to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal.
Their dark green rubbery skin is thick enough for them to play the game of Vogon politics, and play it well, and waterproof enough for them to survive indefinitely at sea depths of up to a thousand feet with no ill effects. Not that they ever go swimming of course. They are this way because billions of years ago, when the Vogons had first crawled out of the sluggish primeval seas of Vogsphere, and had lain panting and heaving on the planet's virgin shores... when the first rays of the bright young Vogsol sun had shown across them that morning, it was as if the forces of evolution had simply turned away in disgust and given up on them there and then. They never evolved again: they should never have survived.
Meanwhile, the natural forces on the planet Vogsphere had been working overtime to make up for their earlier blunder. They brought forth scintillating jeweled scuttling crabs, which the Vogons ate, smashing their shells with iron mallets, and elegant gazelle like creatures with silken coats and dewy eyes which the Vogons would catch and sit on. They were of no use as transport because their backs would snap instantly, but the Vogons sat on them anyway.
They have attempted to acquire learning, they have attempted to acquire style and social grace, but in most respects the modern Vogon is little different from his primitive forebears.