Ever met someone who was goth with the name Kylie? You're like, "WTF? Kylie is a blonde cheerleader who's bubbly and ditzy. You're more like...a Morticia."
When I hear the name Darrell, I immediately think redneck. I don't think I've ever met a hot Darrell. Ooh! Another redneck? Randy. (Then again, Randy usually looks smokin' hot in his Levi's but not really someone I want to take home to my white-collar parents.)
What happens if your name is Floyd and you turn out hot? Do you stick it out? Go by your middle name? (Which hopefully isn't something like Garth.) Change it completely? My mom's best friend was born Darlene. She was cute and blonde and hated her name all her life. She finally legally changed it to Lauren. She DOES look more like a Lauren...but I still slip and call her Dar sometimes.
What makes us associate names with faces? Is it our life experiences with people? (I dated a Jimmy from Kentucky when I was in college. Now, all Jimmys are rednecks to me.) Is it universal? (Again, anyone ever seen a hot Darrell???)
Hmmm...someone should TOTALLY investigate this phenomenon. Like for a master's thesis.
Rex: Total porn star.
Willie: Just give the kid a complex now, ok?
Darryl: Redneck who thought he got hot so tried to alter his redneck name without legally changing it.
Gary: Any hot Garys out there? Yeah, didn't think so.
Peter: No explanation necessary.
Bo: You want your son to be called gay whether he is or not? Name him Bo.
Any boy name with a Y in it (Austyn, Bradyn, Claytyn): See Bo.
Twenty bucks says Leonardo DiCaprio was born Leonard Calhoun. He got hot so he HAD to change his name.
Flippin' sexes on ya. The girl name I'm seeing a lot in the ER is Nevaeh. Yes, yes, it's heaven backward but still.
Katie: Total bitch. (But my view may be a bit skewed as my former co-worker whom I also refer to as 'Queen Bitch of the God Damn Universe' is named Katie.)
Sophia and Madison: Unless you want your daughter to be forever known as 'Sophia S.' or 'Madison P.' STOP NAMING YOUR GIRLS SOPHIA AND MADISON.
Kiley: Again, totally bubbly. Usually blonde. Want to hate her but is actually sweet. Bitch.
Misty/Destiny: White trash.
McKenzie/Mackenzie/McKayla/Mackayla: I'm Mcdone with it.
I'm sure I've offended every single person reading this as you have prolly named at least one of your children an above-mentioned moniker. I'm sorry. And sometimes names JUST FIT. Whether it's the kid or the last name, it just works. So please count yourself in that exception. :)
Hell, who am I to talk? I didn't even give my kid a middle name. And he hates his first name so I have that going for me, too.
What names bug YOU?
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Things I Think About At 3 A.M.
* Why do we still have daylight saving time? Didn't Benjamin Franklin pitch that idea back in the day? Like, when most Americans farmed for a living? And before we had electricity? I don't know about you, but I'd rather go to work in the dark and have a few hours of light in the evening. Cause 5:00 pm sunsets SUCK.
* Why do I have to wait until noon to buy liquor on Sundays? I'm not driving drunk nor am I going to attend church while drunk. I'm over 21 years of age so WHY CAN'T I GET VODKA FOR MY SUNDAY MORNING BLOODY MARY AT 10 AM???
* Why can't I ever find a lid to fit the pot I'm cooking with? I can find every other frikkin' lid but the one I need.
* Why would you pay $300 for someone to pull one tooth? Seriously. A couple shots of whiskey, some pliers and a brave friend would do it for me. (Which is also prolly why I floss daily. Man, I need to steer Mouth toward dental school...)
* Why is it a person on food stamps is not able to buy a grocery store cooked rotisserie chicken but can freely splurge on gum and Red Bull? (Didn't know about the Red Bull until this morning. Thank you, State of Illinois!)
* Once again, HOW THE HELL IS TARA REID FAMOUS AND I'M NOT???
* I despise whistlers. Especially those who whistle pop tunes like Journey. Or Enrique Iglesias. I totally would have smacked that chick if I wasn't at work. Or if she wasn't my coworker.
* Why is it that when I spilled a glass of wine on my keyboard, I was lucky enough to only lose the function of my five, six and hyphen keys? (Yet I still bitch about not having them. In fact, this is a not(hyphen)so(hyphen)thinly veiled bullet point bitch about not being able to hyphenate or type my zip code.)
* Why do I have to wait until noon to buy liquor on Sundays? I'm not driving drunk nor am I going to attend church while drunk. I'm over 21 years of age so WHY CAN'T I GET VODKA FOR MY SUNDAY MORNING BLOODY MARY AT 10 AM???
* Why can't I ever find a lid to fit the pot I'm cooking with? I can find every other frikkin' lid but the one I need.
* Why would you pay $300 for someone to pull one tooth? Seriously. A couple shots of whiskey, some pliers and a brave friend would do it for me. (Which is also prolly why I floss daily. Man, I need to steer Mouth toward dental school...)
* Why is it a person on food stamps is not able to buy a grocery store cooked rotisserie chicken but can freely splurge on gum and Red Bull? (Didn't know about the Red Bull until this morning. Thank you, State of Illinois!)
* Once again, HOW THE HELL IS TARA REID FAMOUS AND I'M NOT???
* I despise whistlers. Especially those who whistle pop tunes like Journey. Or Enrique Iglesias. I totally would have smacked that chick if I wasn't at work. Or if she wasn't my coworker.
* Why is it that when I spilled a glass of wine on my keyboard, I was lucky enough to only lose the function of my five, six and hyphen keys? (Yet I still bitch about not having them. In fact, this is a not(hyphen)so(hyphen)thinly veiled bullet point bitch about not being able to hyphenate or type my zip code.)
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Thursday, June 9, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Thinking That.....
You're offering unbelievably delicious samples of spring rolls in the frozen food aisle, and I've fallen in love with them. So why, pray tell, are you now telling me you sold out of them hours ago?
YO, DUMBASS. STOP THE DAMN DEMO IF YOU DON'T HAVE THE DAMN PRODUCT.
Dickhead.
He's lucky I didn't shove him into the freezer behind him. But he was like, 90 years old. And I need a battery charge like I need a hole in my head.
Then again, those spring rolls were frikkin' finger-licking good. Battery is only a misdemeanor....right?
YO, DUMBASS. STOP THE DAMN DEMO IF YOU DON'T HAVE THE DAMN PRODUCT.
Dickhead.
He's lucky I didn't shove him into the freezer behind him. But he was like, 90 years old. And I need a battery charge like I need a hole in my head.
Then again, those spring rolls were frikkin' finger-licking good. Battery is only a misdemeanor....right?
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Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Now I Lay Me...
Excerpt from Mouth's bedtime prayer last night:
"...and please keep us safe from all sicknesses, accidents, death, nuclear explosions - well, explosions regardless - and please help Japan and Haiti recover. Amen!"
Too much television? Xbox? Both???
"...and please keep us safe from all sicknesses, accidents, death, nuclear explosions - well, explosions regardless - and please help Japan and Haiti recover. Amen!"
Too much television? Xbox? Both???
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Friday, May 13, 2011
Come Here, My Little Pretty!
Tonight's weather involves rain, a smidge of lightning and thunder, and a severe thunderstorm warning. So imagine my surprise when I heard the familiar jingle of The Ice Cream Man.
Seriously? Are your over-priced popsicles worth the risk of kids running out in a thunderstorm just to purchase your products???
Hell yeah, it is!
What is it about The Ice Cream Man? When I was young, I'd hear the bell and the music from a block or so away and race to find my mom (or rather, her wallet.) A colorful van would pull up to the curb, and a group of us neighborhood kids would gather round and heartily snatch up his tasty treats. It was frikkin' magical!
As an adult, I think back to many moments in my childhood - moments that seemed "normal" and "okay" then...but now? Not so much. Like running the neighborhood at seven years old, returning home only because it was getting dark. Or sledding down 'Kill Hill' because supposedly two kids died in a toboggan mishap. Or riding a bike WITHOUT A HELMET.
Or running out to The Ice Cream Man, whose lecherous looks and creepy music beckoned kids from afar. Things I swore I'd never let my kid partake in.
Yeah. Mouth can hear The Ice Cream Man eight blocks away. No lie. At the first tinkle of music, he bolts down the stairs (many times falling down the last four steps) and yells, "He's here! Gimme some money!!!" And of course I cave. The Ice Cream Man pulls up, and he's just as creepy as I thought he'd be. Although he had professional-looking pictures of his merchandise on the side of the van, I still searched for some sort of health department license to guarantee he wasn't selling poison. I also asked his name so I could run it through the sex offenders database.
But he turned out to be okay. Nice guy...mostly toothless but drives reeeeal slow by our place so Mouth has a chance to fall down the stairs and find money. And no poison in the popsicles yet.
Yesterday Mouth again sensed the now-familiar creepy jingle and flew out the door. I went with him (mostly because I was digging change out of the bottom of my bag.) We ran around to the service side of the van...and stopped. This wasn't the regular Ice Cream Man. This was a skeezy imposter!
He said, "Heeeey there...what can I get you two darlings?" He only sold six items - and his menu was spray-painted on a board he taped to his van.
Oh. Hell. No.
I grabbed Mouth and ran back across the street. Mouth was all, "Dude, he's creepy!"
THANK YOU, CAPTAIN OBVIOUS.
About 30 minutes later we heard music jingling again. I cautiously peeked out my window - and saw our familiar Ice Cream Man coming down the street. I yelled, "He's here! The legit guy is here!" Mouth and I both ran out, and I honestly wanted to kiss that creepy guy!
So now to my surprise, and to Mouth's pleasure, I'm more than happy to buy (and eat) ice cream from a toothless guy who prolly lives in his van.
But I'm drawing the line at drinking vodka tonics while driving an RV cross country.
Not that my father ever did that.
(It was the 70's, for christ sake!)
Seriously? Are your over-priced popsicles worth the risk of kids running out in a thunderstorm just to purchase your products???
Hell yeah, it is!
What is it about The Ice Cream Man? When I was young, I'd hear the bell and the music from a block or so away and race to find my mom (or rather, her wallet.) A colorful van would pull up to the curb, and a group of us neighborhood kids would gather round and heartily snatch up his tasty treats. It was frikkin' magical!
As an adult, I think back to many moments in my childhood - moments that seemed "normal" and "okay" then...but now? Not so much. Like running the neighborhood at seven years old, returning home only because it was getting dark. Or sledding down 'Kill Hill' because supposedly two kids died in a toboggan mishap. Or riding a bike WITHOUT A HELMET.
Or running out to The Ice Cream Man, whose lecherous looks and creepy music beckoned kids from afar. Things I swore I'd never let my kid partake in.
Yeah. Mouth can hear The Ice Cream Man eight blocks away. No lie. At the first tinkle of music, he bolts down the stairs (many times falling down the last four steps) and yells, "He's here! Gimme some money!!!" And of course I cave. The Ice Cream Man pulls up, and he's just as creepy as I thought he'd be. Although he had professional-looking pictures of his merchandise on the side of the van, I still searched for some sort of health department license to guarantee he wasn't selling poison. I also asked his name so I could run it through the sex offenders database.
But he turned out to be okay. Nice guy...mostly toothless but drives reeeeal slow by our place so Mouth has a chance to fall down the stairs and find money. And no poison in the popsicles yet.
Yesterday Mouth again sensed the now-familiar creepy jingle and flew out the door. I went with him (mostly because I was digging change out of the bottom of my bag.) We ran around to the service side of the van...and stopped. This wasn't the regular Ice Cream Man. This was a skeezy imposter!
He said, "Heeeey there...what can I get you two darlings?" He only sold six items - and his menu was spray-painted on a board he taped to his van.
Oh. Hell. No.
I grabbed Mouth and ran back across the street. Mouth was all, "Dude, he's creepy!"
THANK YOU, CAPTAIN OBVIOUS.
About 30 minutes later we heard music jingling again. I cautiously peeked out my window - and saw our familiar Ice Cream Man coming down the street. I yelled, "He's here! The legit guy is here!" Mouth and I both ran out, and I honestly wanted to kiss that creepy guy!
So now to my surprise, and to Mouth's pleasure, I'm more than happy to buy (and eat) ice cream from a toothless guy who prolly lives in his van.
But I'm drawing the line at drinking vodka tonics while driving an RV cross country.
Not that my father ever did that.
(It was the 70's, for christ sake!)
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Monday, May 9, 2011
Ah, Mother's Day
So...Mother's Day. Many people posted sweet sentiments on their Facebook and Twitter accounts yesterday, writing things like "you kissed my boo boos...wiped my tears...wiped my butt...you're my best friend!"
Yeah.
Have I mentioned I live four doors down from my mother now? Not four houses but four - one, two, three, FOUR - doors away from my mother.
Don't get me wrong - I love my mom. With everything that's happened to me over the past two years, the only reason I'm not living in a cardboard box is because of the generosity of my mother. But still...
Did I mention I now live FOUR doors down from my mother???
Happy Mother's Day.
Yeah.
Have I mentioned I live four doors down from my mother now? Not four houses but four - one, two, three, FOUR - doors away from my mother.
Don't get me wrong - I love my mom. With everything that's happened to me over the past two years, the only reason I'm not living in a cardboard box is because of the generosity of my mother. But still...
Did I mention I now live FOUR doors down from my mother???
Happy Mother's Day.
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