Turtlewind
The Turtle Cooks! (SLOW-O)
Well, it’s been a little time since I’ve been at enough of a loss to bother myself with this place, hasn’t it? To be frank with you, readers, the great and benevolent Mr Turtlewind has been a little busy of late. The slightly esteemed footballer Mr Gordon Ramsay called round asking if I could do him a favour and let him film the last of his televisual series at Turtle Grange. It wasn’t going to be the last in the series originally, but he coincidentally happened to have a freak head wound after he looked in the ‘secret freezer’. The scamp. › Continue reading
Diamonds Smell Of Wee. Discuss
As many of my readers and creditors will happily testify, the mysterious Mr Turtlewind is a most enthusiastic young natural philosopher. Having promised a nice man in a long wig that I would never again seek to determine the tensile strength of grey cats, however, these last three or four months have seen me take a bit of a sabbatical from my scientific trail-blazing.
Imagine my delight, then, when I happened to surf back on to my old turf of review site Ciao to be greeted with the perfect hypothesis for an eager scamp to test – and only the barest minimum of cruelty to animals required. › Continue reading
I’m Not Challenged, I’m SPECIAL
Many have been the people in the streets stopping me and asking who I am, and if I would like to accompany them to the station. No sir, I don’t want to travel on British Rail thank YOU! But it makes me realise that being an International Turtle of Mystery means I am quite mysterious. So I have filled out some godawful quiz so that you may survey my majesty. And by majesty I mean my HUGE WANG.
01. What time is it?
13:44
02. Name
The Mysterious Mr Turtlewind esq.
03. Number of candles that appeared on your last birthday cake:
There were eleven candles, but one fell off when I jumped over the fence. I nearly had one with eight candles last week, but the little boy’s father rugby-tackled me as I tried to flee the party with my sponge-based trophy. › Continue reading
I Tried, I Didn’t Like It, I Did Not Impale
I have a very serious problem with cannabis. Ever since the young apprentices at the Turtlewind Scorpion Research Academy discovered that I had mislead them as to the true provenance of the ‘nettles’ behind my greenhouse, I have been tripping along to the police station most weekday afternoons to bail out one or other of the little tykes, who can frequently be seen falling asleep over fences. I had no idea you could get so mashed by smoking bindweed. › Continue reading
How I Nearly Became The Eleventh Doctor
You may know, dear reader, that the Mysterious and Magical Mr Turtlewind esq has been the subject of many a frenzied public debate. From being a celebrity chef with my classic Tarte a la Boue, to hosting dinner parties the talk of the shanty-town, and even the perennial “we know you did it but we can’t prove it so off you go” dance I do with the nice men in blue hats every so often. But what you may not realise is that I, not Mr Matt Smith, was originally cast in the part of the eleventh Doctor!
Growing up, the young Turtle would watch with rapt attention at the screen as Mr Tom Baker fought with all manner of monsters. ‘At last’, I thought! ‘Someone I can identify with, who like me has great problems struggling with cardboard boxes and likes to live in a wooden crate.’ But my childhood innocence was forever crushed when he jumped off some scaffolding and turned into a space bogey. I vowed that day upon my tear-stained copy of The Junior Doctor Who Guide To Scorpion Training that if ever the chance came, I would take up the mantle of the errant Time Lord myself and steer the Tardis to even more muddy planets.
So it happened that some time last summer I was busy in my daily routine of scampering down the canal path catching butterflies in my mouth, when I was passed by a barge. › Continue reading
Tarte a la Boue
The Turtle is a bit of a whizz in the kitchen, you know. I’ve always found food preparation and presentation child’s play. And yet, although I spend many jolly hours putting the finishing touches to Barry’s evening banquets of poached salmon and quail eggs, my own diet remains the kind that reflects my contemplative and mysterious lifestyle. › Continue reading
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. › Continue reading
Punish Me
Capital punishment, ah, there’s a knotty topic. Some might say it’s an instant recipe for an electrifying debate, guaranteed to inject some life into the dullest dinner parties.
Yes, there are some who say capital punishment is wrong, but we have lived under it for far longer than we realise. Capital punishment has supposedly been abolished in the UK, yet my good buddy Blueshift has been punishing capitals mercilessly as long as I have known him. In the middle of words, at the end of words, anything to break their tyrannical monopoly on sentence starts and proper nouns. NauGHty cApItAls, you deserve a hessian necktie, and I’m more than happy to yank on my sturdy oak lever. › Continue reading
Buyer Beware!
As I lay on my miserable wooden cot last night at Turtle Grange, I was unusually restless. Thankfully, Barry had not become ‘confused’ again, my tossing and turning was in fact due to a sudden flashback to a horrifying abuse of consumer rights that scarred me when I was a far younger stud and went by the name of Terrapinbreeze. Now, I stand before you as a man, mostly, and this is where evil scum-chain McDonalds gets its… its. › Continue reading
Coming Out Of The Closet
My life used to be one hidden in shadows, crying for my sad, pathetic existence. Now of course, I have a happy life, full of sun and light and court orders. Where once there was shame, now there is brightness. Why is this? Because I came out of the closet. › Continue reading
Categories
Recent Posts
Archives
- July 2010 (3)
- April 2010 (1)
- January 2010 (1)
- December 2009 (3)
- September 2009 (1)
- August 2009 (4)
- June 2009 (1)
- April 2009 (5)
- March 2009 (9)
- February 2009 (16)
- January 2009 (24)
- December 2008 (29)
- November 2008 (16)
- October 2008 (16)