Today marks the 33rd anniversary of the birth of one of the greatest stories ever told, Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The story was originally aired as a broadcast on BBC Radio 4 on March 8, 1978, before eventually turning into the funniest five-book trilogy you'll ever read. If you've never had a chance to read the books, or, especially, if you've only seen the subpar movie (how a movie featuring Alan Rickman, Sam Rockwell, Martin Freeman, and Zooey Deschanel can be subpar, I don't know), I highly urge you to correct that. You'll thank me for it, I promise.

In honor of this life-changing event – and since we're only a few weeks away from baseball season finally starting – I've written some Vogon poetry about our favorite sport. It's a tall order, I know, to measure up to the universe's third-worst poetry, but I've done my best.

To get in the proper mood, imagine, if you will, that a fleet of Vogon Constructors has happened on a game of baseball as they wait for their demolition orders to come through…

as dreamed by Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz

Oh round orb,
An epidermis-bovine corpuscle,
Sutured in red,
Resembling the estrused stripplegrats of Kria.

When velocited to satisfiptory measures,
Thy stripplegrat eye flees
And the prowling jaggleburg wails.

The axlebart striker waves his weapon,
An hooptious attempt
At Sub-Galactic Savarzin diplomacy.

Caustic teamsters, jovarzing the field,
Scream at the meated volley
And crinkily lumber to the
Billowy minecaps.

But, alas, as the guanobung of Vogon
Knows mitutously foul,
Intention and fate synerjate as well
As a ripturdon in a camfirrare nest.
Strikers and teamsters gribble
And stravle around the grid.

The bovine orb of stripplegrat design
Returns to the mountain.
The axlebart striker, zavvling and confident,
Awaits the next orbit.

Gripping stuff, eh? I encourage any other Hitchhiker fans to join in the anniversary celebration with some Vogon poetry of their own or anything else that might be appropriate (towels, improbability drives, Norwegian fjords, the Ultimate Question…)