When I was a lad, which admittedly was a few decades ago, people had what I can only describe as real names. You know James, Harry, Mary and that sort of thing but these days it seems to be the case that anything goes. The so-called Posh Spice (and let me tell you people, anyone born in Essex, England is far from posh) named her kid Brooklyn as that is where it was conceived. People seem to name their snots after their favorite car or even shampoo and it all seems such an abdication of parental responsibility. These kids are going to grow up and be tortured by their little playmates for having names like Apple or Honeybunch Snowflake. Anyone naming their child should spend a few minutes checking out rhyming slang and stupid sounding names. A case in point is that Brad and Angelina should have listened to this advice before naming their kid Shiloh Pitt. At some point, someone at school is going to spoonerise her name and it will all end in tears. Kissbotty County educated folks may
click here.
Talking of names, my old sparring partner, Rita Whiplash has pulled off an amazing coup and I am green with jealousy. She has started to advertise herself at every Outback Steakhouse in the land. I don’t know how she did it but every coaster features Rita. Now I don’t expect you t believe me and I could hardly believe it myself but here is a picture of the obverse and reverse of an Outback coaster.
Unfortunately the Valtrex challenged and Shine addled old slapper forgot to put her contact details on the coaster and this is where I need your help. I have promised Rita that wherever I go I will ink in her number and I also told her that I would get my vast army of readers to help out as well. So please visit an Outback tonight and write on the coaster 1-900-SPA-NKME.
Rita has promised me a small commission and I have just had to buy a new coffee engine so to be quite frank I need the money.
Living off the fruits of love.
TCB
