Boxturt's Page, The Unofficial Boxturt Page


Home Of The World Famous Safe-Haven Couch And The Dust-Bunnie Brigade
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HELLO!! My name is Boxturt (a.k.a. 'Speed Bump', 'Durtle', the inevitable 'Toitle', and sometimes just plain 'Turt') and it's a pleasure to meet you. Some of you already know me, and I'm sorry about that. What most of you don't know is that I am the second generation fig newton of someone's over-active imagination! I bet you would like me to explain that huh? (not the fig newton part~everyone knows what those are).

It's quite simple really. You see, I am the imaginary friend of a talking toad and yes, you guessed it, he is also imaginary. In a real person's mind! (they are both very real to me) Last but not least, the Dust Bunnies are my imaginary friends. Imaginary?? More likely the end result of one of my many psychosis.More likely the end result of one of my many psychosis. Friends, comrades, bunnie buddies?? Well, that's certainly debatable and remains to be seen. (none of the previous banter reflects well upon the human factor here, does it?)

Rather than demonstration by rubric, graph, pie-chart or hexidecimal table I have chosen a simple flow chart to illustrate the relationships.

OK! Now that my morphing into existence has been thoroughly explained allow me to ramble on a bit about myself. This way I can hopefully dispel some of the icky rumors about me. (What the heck is a rubric anyway??)

I was hatched 136 years ago by an 85 year old (you do the math) Floridian Chelonian Chieftess. In 1923 I migrated north and by '72 was comfortably settling in near a pond in Southwestern Connecticut. Fortunately I was warned by a couple of fellow amphibians about the "freezing-over", long before the winter months arrived. It was then that my life changed and I was introduced to the finer things in life .....living under the couch.....

So, how many couches have you slept under? That's right-I said slept under. You do of course realize how difficult (close to impossible) for me to climb up ON to the couch?! Would have to be a monkey I guess, but I will leave that for my next page: "Monkeys I've Loved". Ah, I digress.

Residing under a couch, any couch for that matter, can be risky business. First of all I must always be on the look-out for the 'symantic police'. Does anybody really care if I reside under a sofa, loveseat or davenport!? They all look like couches to me. I can usually avoid them (the police) by staying under the couch but what I can't avoid is The Fuzz. Dust-Bunnies. Ever hear of them? Evil little creatures with personalities about as stable as, well, me. *ahem* These rogue nefarians apparently only inhabit the space beneath my couch. I have never seen them any where else but I understand they originated on an island off the coast of Newfoundland, where presumably they were content until the mighty typhoon of '78 blew them into the U.S.

Alas, they are quite content now. Warm, dark, cramped living quarters and a small turtle (that would be moi) to pick on. What more could they possibly ask for? Plenty I tell you. They even have their own union! BULL (Bunnies' Union Local 'leven). I don't understand why they have to be unionized. Goodness knows they are abundant enough, and always get their way (with humans, toads and turts alike). Ever see a wild pack of dust-bunnies attack a peppermint that has strayed from the herd? It is not a particularly pleasing sight. Poor things. And I used to like peppermint candy. But that's nothing~you should see what they do to my Cheerios.

Spare change? Not in this domicile. I'm pretty sure the bunnies have been banking it all. Lift up the couch cushions here and all you are likely to find are extremely bloated bunnies with smug smiles. And I hate that. Nothing worse than a smug bunnie.

I could really put all that spare change to use too! I'm about due for new spats, dancing taps (dimes work great), masking tape (to attach the dimes of course), a cane and a top hat. But I guess it's okay~I haven't any pockets anyway. *sigh* Anybody got .40 cents? I want to dance!

Despite the antics of my bunnie 'bunkies' I am happy and secure under the sanctuary of this dumpy old couch. It is truly a safe-haven from the klutzoid humanoids that either aren't paying attention to where they are walking and trod all over me (I swear it's intentional and deliberate) or a Sunday afternoon game of carpet soccer (I am certain that this is intentional and deliberate**) featuring yours truly. At least it's not American Football~that would involve 'spiking' (yikes!!) the ball after goals and then performing the ritualistic victory dance all over me. Small blessings.....right.

**Did I mention malicious, cruel, rotten, nasty, mean-spirited, contemptable, brutal, savage, ferocious, barbarous, bloodthirsty, atrocious, diabolical, truculent and just plain poopy?

Ok, I think I've allowed this charade to continue just about long enough. As the official webmaster of these pages it is my responsibility to you, the viewer, to emphatically deny Boxturt the forum and opportunity to ramble on with such recklessly embellished banter. I have been neglect in my duties, I am solely accountable for this misappropriation of web-space and I offer my humble apologies.

You see, Boxturt is an amfibian. No-I did not misspell that. He IS just that, a-m-F-I-B-i-a-n! Don't get me wrong, he is basically an alright turt. He just has this tendency to make things up although the kernel of his yarns are basically founded in truth. However, supply Boxturt the kernel and he'll run with it (well, sort of). A web page, not to mention a good, solid story line can only support so much exaggeration, magnification, overstatement, hyperbole, false fringe, caricature, spinning, puffing, and Baron Munchausening.

Just remember, Boxturt lives of, in and for the moment. No more, no less. Well, more or less. I shall hush now. Until next time...........

Awww.... Don't mind the human, I don't. After all he's only human. I am Chelonian and he best not ignore the simple truth that without me, he would simply cease to exsist. In any form that you would recognize anyway. At this point you have probably refered to chart btZ-136. The fact is that we all coexist symbiotically or is that symbiotically coexist? (and wasn't that a great redundancy??). Besides, the human respects me for who I am and if I asked him to take a long walk off a short pier he probably would, just for me. Me now thinks that was enough said on that!!

I best be off for now. Seems I need a little more time to viscerate the verbiage, syncronize my synonyms, plagerize plenty plu-perfect plurals and while I'm at it I may as well dangle a little.......prepositions that is! Preposterous Indeed :-)

Evidently, honestly and quite obviously (you'll thank me later for the hellacious use of adverbs) I have not submitted an update in quite sometime. Not that it matters, but the truth of the matter is that the subject matter I have or have not had to offer has transmographied into anti-matter. Simply put, it is a matter of no matter. This matterless matter has perplexed me for ages now. Not that it really matters...

Speaking of black holes, my thoughts turn to my human. Worry and apprehension for him shroud and bestill my bosom's life chambers. I suspect that he has slipped into apathy or just plain chosen to ignore me and as previously mentioned, if he stops believing in me he should cease to exist. Have not seen him recently......and certainly do not recall asking or suggesting that he engage himself in a lengthy pier promenade. HEY! Where'd I go? Hello? Hello! *tap tap* Is this thing on?!?!

It would be less than honest or noble to fabricate events seen here. You humans may find a scrupulous turtle a tad unnerving. I of course am assuming it is only humans that are reading this as most other species have not shown the slightest bit of interest, except for a couple cats and dogs that I salary to prooof reed these pagez. Events need not be fabricated to dwell amongst the lines and spaces of this page. In reality, this page has no lines so I am allowed a little leeway! Therefore I freely and without prompting admit that these events, while based strongly on fact, are in fact fabricated elsewhere. Nurse! Scruple please!

Ok, as much as I despise the arduous task of keeping tabs on the turt I must strongly object to being called a "Black Hole". Name-calling and mud-slinging will not be tolerated in this highly over-rated forum. I would expect a little more... a LOT more respect from that little box 'o rocks. Especially as I generally do not censor the vile little twerp. That may have to change. So Dear Reader, I put forth to you a list of possible actions to take concerning Boxturt's future writing endeavours. I shall heed your advice for as of this writing I am more than tempted to duct tape the PC directly to the little nutshell and heave him overboard!

Muzzle Him	Tweak His Tail
Censor Him	Make Soup
All Of These	None Of These

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