🚀 go-pugleaf

> Has any one ever been jogging (running) and been nearly killed or at
> least hit by an auto (truck/car/motorcycle)? BTW this includes hits or
> near misses with projectiles (beer-bottles,trash,cups-of-water...).
> 
> Yesterday some fool, laughing the whole time, swung across to the far
> lane, then swerved right back making a bee line for me. I managed to
> jump off the road (this time). I wonder what is going on in the heads
> of these maniacs.
> 					Geoff S.

This is the sport of joggering, described in HHGttN:

Arnold Lint:	How could a group like that command such a strong
	node?
Xaphod:	Well, the sudden popularity of Jogging induced widespread
	adoption of the principles of Single-ism. The subsequent rise of the
	sport of 'Joggering' reduced the numbers of Singularans to normal
	size. It appears that they may be making a come back though.

[The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" defines 'Joggering' as a sport
originated in Australia to combat the sudden drop in productivity
caused by having everybody jogging. Australian champion Bruce Karnage
describes the sport: "Well, there is a different way of catching both
male and female joggers. If it's a male, you flush him out into the
open with cigarette smoke, then chase him down in your 4 x 4 Land
Rover. When he's tired, bump him with the fender to stun him
momentarily. Then get out and with your driver pick him up by all
fours and run him head-first into the side of the truck. If it's a
female, bait a likely spot with designer jogging wear and then wait
for a flock to arrive. When one becomes interested, sneak up behind
her, very quietly. Then when you are about two feet away, and you can
see the sun dancing on her richly tanned flesh carressing her well
toned figure into a visual symphony of delight, split her skull with
a handy two-by-four. It's a lovely sport!" The sport later became
known as 'Walkmaning'.]
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(The source of the sound now comes into view. The first thing seen is
a group of seven joggers, of various ages, sexes, and creeds, running
for all they are worth. Close on their heels are two blokes in a Land
Rover, they each wield a large club and a large can of beer. They are,
in fact, none other than Australian Joggering champions Bruce Karnage
and Bruce Bludletter.)

Bruce:	Here Bruce, get closer and I'll get another.
Bruce:	Right Bruce.
Bruce:	Naw, closer, Bruce.
Bruce:	Pass me a beer, Bruce.
Bruce:	Right Bruce.

(The Land Rover approaches the slowest jogger and Bruce pockets him
in the corner with a polo-like shot to the head, causing little bits
of brain to spurt out his ears.)

Bruce:	That was lovely, Bruce!
Bruce:	Thank you, Bruce.

(The joggers and the joggerers depart, the racket follows them, as
well it should.)

Rod:	That was great, what a shot.
Arnold Lint:	That was awful, how viscious and cruel.
Martin:	I don't know, I almost enjoyed it.
Gillian:	What do they call that.
Zaphod:	That's joggering, lovely sport.
Rod:	Let's go already.
Arnold Lint:	What a savage Net we live in.
-- 
{ucbvax,decvax,ihnp4}!sun!sunny (Ms. Sunny Kirsten)