Henceforth I Shall Call You . . .

I’m on an endorphin high from the gym, you’ll have to bear with me. Odds are I will have an inordinate amount of cusswords in this little entry. Why? Because I fucking can, okay? I can write without using cusswords any time I want, but I already did that shit in high school and college and look where that got me. Perhaps cussing will get me that coveted spot on the Time Magazine editorial staff. Perhaps not. Perhaps if I keep using words like "perhaps" they will see that I’m not all cussing and poop jokes and give me a chance. Or maybe I can get a job with the Des Moines Register or Cat Fancy magazine.

The point is, SOMEBODY needs to pay me for my brilliance. Cusswords or not, I’m awesome!

Okay then, back to my story. I was listening to John Denver today while I was at the gym, kicking the crap out of myself. And YES, fuckers, I listen to John Denver while I’m at the gym from time to time AND I bench press more than you AND I lift pretty much everything heavier than you do. I probably don’t squat as much as you do, but that’s okay because I’m better at sex than you are and that makes it all even.

It does, I looked it up. Math is cool.

So anyway, this song came on from John Denver and it was the live version of the song and before the song started he went on about how the song was written about his Uncle Dean (which is kind of funny because the name of the song is “Matthew,” not Dean, but it kicks ass because it has a banjo in it and if you don’t appreciate a good banjo in a song then something is wrong with you. “Who plays a banjo?” you might ask. Well, does the name Kermit the Fucking Frog* mean anything to you?! That little green bastard played the S-word out of the banjo and you ate that shit up when you were a kid, don’t try to tell me you’re too good for that stuff now, no one likes a hypocrite) and all I could think of was, “Dean, what an unfortunate name.”

I’ve only known one person named Dean my whole life and that guy was a complete tool. It really is an unfortunate name. And that got me thinking about how cool it would be to have the power to nickname people to relieve them of their stupid, parent-given names that I don’t approve of. Only the catch would be that I would give people nicknames that had NOTHING to do with anything about them.

I already have a gift for bestowing nicknames that stand the test of time based on the fact they sort of make sense, so now I think I would like to test the waters on giving people nicknames that they don’t want, don’t like and, hopefully, don’t understand.

“Dean, I don’t know much about you except I hate your name. But you seem to be really well spoken and a pretty nice fella, so henceforth I shall call you Slapdick. You’re welcome.”

“But I—“

“No need to thank me Slapdick. Just go on about your life with the warm, comforting fact that no one will ever call you Dean again. What a stupid fucking name. Do me a favor and slap your parents the next time you see them for me. And slap your grandma too. No reason, just for practice. You’ve gotta keep your pimp hand strong, you know?”

I could go on and on about unfortunate names, but I won’t because I don’t want to offend anyone who might come across this by insulting their name (for instance, if your name is Michaela it just means your parents really wanted a boy and they got stuck with you and were too stupid to come up with a real girl’s name. It also means you pick your boogers and eat them. I base this on the fact that I’ve only known three girls names Michaela my whole life and one of them picked her nose and ate it in front of my first grade class while she was doing “Show and Tell.” I was never in a first grade class with the other two, but the first one ruined that name for me and everyone else for the rest of existence, and that’s why henceforth I shall call anyone named Michaela “Buxton” as a nickname.) I will, however, leave you all with a list of ten nicknames and you can pick and choose them and bestow them on unsuspecting people at your own whimsy:

Plank
Mudbucket
Trunkforge
Bill Clinton
Captain Shits-a-ton
Public Speaker Jones
Headfoot and Buttcrotch (only to be used on twins or people who look alike)
Pong Cocker
Zip Zap Rip Rap Smacky Wacky Ho
Pissblanket (an oldie but still a classic)

Oh, and remember, you MUST use the new nickname in conjunction with this verbiage: Henceforth I shall call you . . .

Rules are rules, bitches.

B!

P.S.—I don’t really condone slapping grandmas, so don’t do it, not even if they’re into that sort of thing. If they are into that sort of thing, don’t encourage them, it will all end in tears and that’s JUST WHAT THEY WANT.

P.P.S.—Endorphin highs are AWESOME!

* not his real name. The “Fucking” was added later and without permission thanks to the letter F, the true sponsor of this blog.