Tuesday, 23 December 2008

[Turtlewind] I Want Neat Stuff

It's not easy being an international Turtle of Mystery, you have to forsake most material goods if your bag is Scorpion Whispering. Because scorpion shit stains like hell. As Barry and I lie curled together on my wooden cot, however, straw mattress opening sores in my neck, I cry bitter tears of remorse for my empty bachelor hut. Here is some stuff I want.

10) A gun. A really big gun. People tell me that this is something phallic-related, but I don't care as I have a huge wang. So there. I want a great big shiny gun that I can scare children with as they queue for the school bus.

9) A computer. Some people have noticed that my opinions can be a little brief. This is actually because I have no computer and instead shout 'beep' down the phoneline until an article is completed on this esteemed site. I would dearly love a computer and would call it Bob.

8) Forty wenches. Like my good friend the Earl of Rochester. To exercise my huge wang. Scorpions are loving pets, but a little too prickly if you get my drift.

7) Some trousers. For some reason I think I would get a lot less trouble every time I leave the Turtlecave if I was wearing some trousers. While it is nice to hear women screaming wherever I go, I'd prefer not to be deafened every time I go to church.

6) A butterfly net. I'm fed up catching butterflies with my teeth, they taste like burning on my tongue.

5) Another scorpion, so Barry will have another option on those long dark winter evenings.

4) An oven. My favourite food is mud pies, but they are never quite as satisfying at room temperature. If I could cook my mud pies then I wouldn't be so grumpy when roused.

3) A wife to love and cherish. Because my old one broke and the site wouldn't send a replacement. Treacherous Thai government.

2) A shovel. I long to broaden my horizons a little, but it is so difficult to find corpses legitimately in these days of mass cremations. My huge wang needs feeding. It's like it has a mind of its own.

1) To own this site, so I can block the IPs of all you scum.

I am lonely, I cry and think bad thoughts. No, the OTHER kind of bad thoughts. Yes. Mmmmm...

If Santa doesn't bring me some of this stuff, I shall snap. And break the restraining order. Which one? Not telling. Live in fear. For now.

Your friend, The Mysterious Mr Turtlewind, with help from the Earl of Rochester.


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