Molly needed to go out at six-thirty this dull Sunday morning, so I found myself watching Sky News. There was an item about a gun bar in Las Vegas, where tourists can use a shooting range. I mention it because the owner glories in the name of Genghis Cohen.
Is that not the best name you’ve ever heard? Surely not his own? He must have changed it by deed poll.
He is Australian. I don’t know why that’s relevant; it just is.
INSERT: Checking Zemanta for pictures to illustrate this post, I discovered that Genghis Cohen is not the name of the bar owner, but of the bar. What can I tell you? It was 06:42 when I watched it.
INSERT: Is it bizarre that I can get confused about the name but know the exact time I watched the report?
I’ve blogged about names before so, as it is a Sunday and a special day and I am bleary-eyed because of my cross-legged dog, I have cobbled together bits from four old posts for your delectation.
Charlie Brown once said:
Sometimes I lie awake at night and I ask, “Why me?”
Then a voice answers, “Nothing personal, your name just happened to come up.”
You’ve got to ask yourself why a seven-year old boy is asking ‘Why me?’ It’s a little creepy.
I wrote the next bit in January of this year; quite a few of these couples are no longer together. Should the Hub and I be worried?
Bennifer was the name for J-Lo and Ben Affleck; why not Fleckz?
Tom Cruise and Katy Holmes could be Cromes instead of Tomkat.
Zac Efron and Vaness Hudgens are nicknamed Zanessa; Fudge would be much more fun.
Brad and Ange are Brangelina; can you think of a better one?
Miranda Kerr and Orlando Bloom have become Kerrbloom. I prefer Bloke.
John Mayer got the nickname Johnifer after he dated Jennifer Aniston. Was she Bran when she was married to Mr Pitt?
Reese and Jake are known as Gyllenspoon. How about Reek?
Keith Urban and Nicole Kidman are Kurban. I like Kidur.
I’m Tilly Bud, married to the Hub.
We should be known as Thud; or A Tilly The Hub.
My given name is Linda. Let’s see who skim reads. It was given to me forty-nine years ago today. My Mum’s friend had already taken Mum’s first choice of Amanda for her daughter, born a couple of months before me. I never met that friend…
My name may once have been a diminutive of Belinda, just as I am a diminutive of a regular-sized person.
In Spanish it means pretty.
Before my head swells like a cobra’s, in German it means snake. Also soft, tender, weak. The Germans don’t miss a trick.
The Italians say I’m neat. Thanks, Italy; I think you’re pretty neat, too.
I have told the next (true) story so many times, I’m sure you all know it; but today I get to do what I like, so here it is again:
When I was a teenager I was friends with a couple called Colin Healing and Faith Willis; they were fairly serious until he asked her to marry him.
She turned him down because she refused to become Mrs Faith Healing.
The name of the Hub’s orthopaedic surgeon when he had his bike accident was Ponky Firer. Thinking about it, his name probably still is Ponky Firer.
Yes, it is: I just Googled him. It’s thanks to him that the Hub has a working wrist; he inserted a metal plate and six screws and, so long as the Hub doesn’t get too close to any strong magnets, he’s fine (if he ignores the arthritis which comes with age and battered bodies. Ah, age; don’t get me started).
Do you have a name story? Drop it in the comment box.
Have a great day! I’m going to.