Wednesday, October 04, 2006
What's in a name?
A lifetime of humiliation and derision for some poor sod if the parents are not careful that’s what. Ok, nobody calling their offspring Joseph (a good old Christian name that) could have foreseen Blue Peter and the whole Joey Deacon thing. Nobody calling their child Walter could have possibly known what a curse that name would become.
And of course the parents of MP Theresa May would not have had the foggiest that she would end up sharing her name with a porn star, and now be constantly bothered by horny young men posting on her website and telling her how they’d like to “do her doggy”.
Even so, plenty of rudimentary mistakes have been made by people who really should know better. I’m not talking about celbs here who give their kids deliberately wacky names like Moon Unit or Dweezil (both Zappa), or Peaches or Heavenly Hirani (both children of Paula Yates), but everyday folk who if they gave the matter more than one second of thought could have avoided scarring their children for life. I give you:-
Exhibit one: Ann Boleyn. Honestly, I’ve just got off the phone to her. How she must laugh every time someone cracks the gag “What fucked Ann Boleyn? Henry’s Chopper”.
Exhibit two: Frank Kroll. Yep, named after what a New York Hot Dog vendor would put the “all beef” sausage into for you if your were stupid enough to buy one. Sheer genius by the parents, worrying for me as I have to speak to him later today without laughing.
Exhibit three: Robin Banks – Honestly, with a name like that you’re hardly going to be asked to be Chancellor of the Exchequer now are you? That’s probably why he used to work in Insurance.
Exhibit four: Any name beginning with Wayne – obviously pairing this with King or Kerr would lead to a lifetime of belittlement and no sex with girls – ever.
Exhibit five: Any name ending King or Kerr. I worked with a bloke called King – he was called everything from “Foo” to “Stin” to “Nosmo”. His life was bad. I also used to know a chap called Dan Kerr. Say it quick and it sounds like “Thank you” in German, especially if you do the accent. He wasn’t a happy chap.
Exhibit six: Mike Hunt. Used to be an Aviation Underwriter. When I needed to phone up and speak to him I’d always ask for Michael. I mean, even the great Trevor McDonald can get tongue tied on that one.
So there you go, I rest my case – a little bit of thought can spare your children a lifetime of pain. I should know. My parents were going to call me Duncan but at the last minute had a change of heart. This spared me form a lifetime of being referred to as Dunky. I often shiver at the thought of that and thank my lucky stars they realised the error they were about to make before it was too late.
And of course the parents of MP Theresa May would not have had the foggiest that she would end up sharing her name with a porn star, and now be constantly bothered by horny young men posting on her website and telling her how they’d like to “do her doggy”.
Even so, plenty of rudimentary mistakes have been made by people who really should know better. I’m not talking about celbs here who give their kids deliberately wacky names like Moon Unit or Dweezil (both Zappa), or Peaches or Heavenly Hirani (both children of Paula Yates), but everyday folk who if they gave the matter more than one second of thought could have avoided scarring their children for life. I give you:-
Exhibit one: Ann Boleyn. Honestly, I’ve just got off the phone to her. How she must laugh every time someone cracks the gag “What fucked Ann Boleyn? Henry’s Chopper”.
Exhibit two: Frank Kroll. Yep, named after what a New York Hot Dog vendor would put the “all beef” sausage into for you if your were stupid enough to buy one. Sheer genius by the parents, worrying for me as I have to speak to him later today without laughing.
Exhibit three: Robin Banks – Honestly, with a name like that you’re hardly going to be asked to be Chancellor of the Exchequer now are you? That’s probably why he used to work in Insurance.
Exhibit four: Any name beginning with Wayne – obviously pairing this with King or Kerr would lead to a lifetime of belittlement and no sex with girls – ever.
Exhibit five: Any name ending King or Kerr. I worked with a bloke called King – he was called everything from “Foo” to “Stin” to “Nosmo”. His life was bad. I also used to know a chap called Dan Kerr. Say it quick and it sounds like “Thank you” in German, especially if you do the accent. He wasn’t a happy chap.
Exhibit six: Mike Hunt. Used to be an Aviation Underwriter. When I needed to phone up and speak to him I’d always ask for Michael. I mean, even the great Trevor McDonald can get tongue tied on that one.
So there you go, I rest my case – a little bit of thought can spare your children a lifetime of pain. I should know. My parents were going to call me Duncan but at the last minute had a change of heart. This spared me form a lifetime of being referred to as Dunky. I often shiver at the thought of that and thank my lucky stars they realised the error they were about to make before it was too late.
# posted by Bucko! @ 7:42 AM 
