On turtles and stuff.

All right, so here is the deal people. I am at work during a nice little Missouri ice storm and I am bored so I decided to write a little something. I have been rummaging through my photobucket.com account, feeling a little nostalgic, and have come across a few gems that I would like to narrate. I plan on doing this while listening to my customized LAUNCHcast radio station. Which, hopefully, won't suck tonight.
In other news, I have been indulging tonight, as I just listened the wonderful pop-punk stylings of Fall Out Boy-- This Ain't a Scene, Its an Arms Race. You are correct, I am a whore. This is explicated all the more by the fact that I just devoured a very large piece of chocolate cake.
AT. THE. GYM.
I was all like, "Haha Suckers, have fun working your asses off on those ellipticals and free weights, look at me enjoy my chocolate layer cake, with chocolate icing."
Anyway, pictures: This beauty is brought to you by Maurine, me, and our acquaintance Chuck the Turtle. Maurine and I met Chuck the Turtle while trespassing on private property. We were making our way to an abandon ski lodge that lays just outside of Kirksville. As we were walking we noticed Chuck, and I, being familiar with turtles, picked him up. We proceeded to slap a sticker on his back and take pictures of him and us. We are palz for life, Chuck and us. The sticker was propaganda for Chuck Palahniuk's Haunted. Hence, Chuck the Turtle. It only seemed right.
Chuck the Turtle reminds me of another anecdote I could share. One day, while I still lived in the metropolis of Greentop, MO. Maurine and I were driving out to my apartment when, much to my dismay, I saw an innocent box turtle trying to cross the highway. I, being the kind hearted person that I am, whipped around and pulled along side the road. Maurine probably muttered something like, "What the fuck are you doing," and then I probably pointed out the turtle, and well, she probably understood, but there is no guarantees on that one. Enduring much honking from on coming traffic I made my way to the turtle and brought him safely into the car with Maurine and I. We decided he needed a name and well, Maurine, being the genius she is was all like, "Fitty." And I looked at her, eyes gleaming with adoration, and replied, "That is perfect." Actually I probably squealed because small, defenseless animals tend to do that to me. Anyway, It was perfect because at that particular moment in our lives we were listening to 50 cent. And like, what a perfect name for a turtle. And all be damned if there wasn't a picture of Fitty in my photobucket.com account as well. Ya'll are lucky tonight:

He was in a cooler, because that was all we could find to put him in. And this photo was taken ghetto style with my camera phone, so its not high quality, but damn that turtle was high class.
Well, I think this is about enough reminiscent excitement for the time being (and the radio is sort of starting to play sucky stuff). I think I'm going to wander out doors and see how bad this shit is getting.

Comments

[Anonymous]

i love you

and his name...

it was luda, honey.