Yesterday I did two strange things. I shared this blog address on a little Facebook group, and I read through some of these old witterings.
It's strange to let people in long after the party is over. And it's strange to imagine these giants I live with were once smaller than me.
They all need new names. I shall now fritter more precious tick tocks trying to think of some.
I could stick with their names I use in my book. The Book!! Which turned out to be five books. Possibly six by the time I finish.
By the time I finish... There's a comedy. I am a comedy writer. Not a writer of comedy, but a point-at-able joke with an i-pad.
I want different names for here though. I am tempted to keep Chicken Boy, Dog Boy, Corn Snake Boy as ever he was. He would currently be Budgie Boy. Dirty little fuckers are budgies. Feathers and bird shit all over his room.
But Budgie Boy sounds kinda sweet. He's lovely, but he's a cheeky git. He needs something a bit more savoury. They all do. I can't call my 6 foot despairer of his family's fuckeries Little Rock Godling anymore. And he doesn't still fit in his skulls-on-fire t-shirt.
Minx would kill me for having such a lame name. I did come up with these stoopid titles in a hurry. Just tapped 'em out without much thought and left it at that. Thuglet really suited him though.
I need something fearsome for Minx, cutting for Budgie Boy, respectfully terrifying for LRG and more lollopy for Thuglet. I need to look down the barrel of my own smokin' gun and say what I see.
I see four astounding superbods. Four Horsepeeps of the Acrapolypse. (Hey our house got a name too.)
Ooh four... I could get all deck of cardsy, or directiony, or elemental, or Jungian... I'm just comin' up with Rock, Scissors, Paper, Middle Finger. You play those roolz too don't you?
Nah. I'll call 'em Betty, Fred, Barney and Wilma til I gets inspired. Fuck 'em.
