The Mad Scorpion

38.
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I have been thinking about babies lately.
I have been very lucky to have had lots of babies pass through my life. I really do love kids at that age, when they’re just babies, or before they get to about two. After that it’s pretty much all downhill… no, I’m kidding, I love kids. I think I’m getting clucky… Uh oh.
I’m also really buzzed out by all the amazing names the children of my friends have been given. My friends have all done really well at choosing cool and unusual names for their kids – no Steve’s or Barry’s in that lot. Thank god. Who would call a kid Bruce anyway? The poor kid would have to hang his head in shame (Thanks Rubicon… UGH).
I think the plainest name one of my friends kids have gotten is probably Benjamin, but Benjamin is a nice name, plus he was named after another Benjamin so that’s different.
But seriously. The names of my friends children are really, REALLY cool. I love them.
The kids themselves are alright too.
There’s Amir, who came around the same time as Griffin I think.
Narn Blue, and his brother Felix.
Novee and her brother Miro.
The beautiful miss Magnolia Wilde.
There’s Phoenix, Kea, Isabella, and Violet.
Silas, Oscar, Elsie.
Artemis and Hine.
Karma and Shadow.
Oh, and Xander, and Hayze…
Caleb and Jack deserve a mention.
But the winner of most unique and crazy name would have to go to the son of my ex. His name was Mirth Puzzle Starfish.
That’s MISTER Starfish to you… Yes, that’s Actually his last name, even though it isn’t the last name of his mother or father. It’s just the last name they decided to bestow upon him because APPARENTLY you don’t HAVE to name children after you, you can just… slap any old label on them. Well, any label except Doctor – that one they gotta earn later. I guess that way it’s harder for them to track parents down if they get into trouble at school…
To be fair, his mother’s last name is Waghorn, so it was lose-lose either way I guess. God knows why dad didn’t give him his last name of Bryce…
And let’s not forget the new and gorgeous Luisa Iris. I hope I get to meet her before she starts talking…
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No entries in three weeks. It has been weighing on my mind, although when I have tried over the last few weeks I’ve found that I haven’t had much going on around me to write about – or if I have had it going, I haven’t wanted to write about it publicly.
Let’s just say that having a houseguest for a while (a month, give or take) reminds me of why I wanted to live alone in the first place. Not that I don’t love company… It’s just that my house is too small for two large personalities.
But boy oh boy do I want to rant and rave on this one. It’s just that I have done this via text to others so it’s not so… Out There.
I am glad to have my house back, that’s for sure.
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What I have discovered to write about, is a show called ‘Real Sex’. It’s on late at night on Comedy Central, and it’s… Bizarre. A nineties HBO series, that is a mix of snippets of interviews of random people on the streets (usually the streets of New York) and documentary style studies of people who work, and or indulge, in all aspects of the adult entertainment industry. It’s presented in a very down-to-earth way, but usually what the people are doing is semi out-there. It’s a very peculiar mix.
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Ok. My life is empty right now.
I have been staving off sickness, but I drank quite well last week, so now my throat is scratchy and my nose is slightly runny and I have run out of honey for my lemon and honey’s, so I better go get some.
End Report.
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