Let's talk about baby names.
Is it totally weird that while having a baby (behind post offices and the idea of being raped by a dolphin) is one of the scariest things in the world to me, I've already picked out the names of my hypothetical children? I mean, these are probably just going to end up on the nametags of some very well loved cats, but still. I feel it's important to announce what you want now - because you never know when your older sister is going to get herself knocked up, un-knowingly steal your favourite baby name and make everything awkward.
I'm just being well prepared. And for the record Catherine, Wentworth and Stella are TOTALLY out of bounds. You have been warned.
I don't understand this celebrity trend of insane baby names. I know my Wentworth fixation doesn't make it look that way, but come on. Wentworth? At least it's a real name! At least it's easy to spell! At least there's no 'Prince' or 'Princess' in front of it! At least...no, you know what? If it's coming out of my vagina, then I get to name it. No arguments.
Wow, I'm moody tonight.
It's really only because I'm sick. And I'm tired. And (here comes a hideously uncool 90's reference for your reading pleasure) in the words of Anastasia, I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.
Did you get it? The reference? Did you get it? If you did, congratulations - you are as lame as me. If not, watch this. Then pull your head out of your ass and go research the 90's. They're awesome.
Another reason I'm moody? I just got done watching the 'cinematic masterpiece' that is Dear John. Just in case you didn't happen to read my last post about the movie Dear John, or if the sarcasm indicated by my use of inverted commas wasn't obvious enough for you...I think my review read something along the lines of...