I wrote a short story. You know, during my copious spare time between taking care of three kids, discovering the most perfect recipe ever for beef carnitas, and furthering the status of zombinja fans everywhere.
Zombinja equals zombie plus ninja, of course.
The funniest thing is that we all know my problem with titles. Any kind of names, really. But this one came very easily. Almost like the Batson's name. That came easily to us, but then when it came time to name Left and Right, I wanted names that Slayer thought sounded like Little House on the Prairie, and he wanted names that sounded like strippers.
I do not want to have that kind of mental association with my daughters.
At least we're not as bad as celebrities, though. I mean, REALLY. Jason Lee's son is named Pilot Inspektor. That's right, Inspektor with a K, because it's important to distinguish him from all those other Pilot Inspectors out there. His teachers might get confused about which Pilot Inspector is which, but at least now he can be the Pilot-Inspektor-with-a-K.
And then there's Jermaine Jackson's son, Jermajesty. He will never get a date. Why? Because I dare you to find me a decent woman who can lovingly murmur, "Kiss me, Jermajesty," without snarfing.
Seriously. Try it. I'll wait.
I've known a couple of people like this, too. There's one kid who goes to our local McDonalds to play, and his name is Raiden. That's right, as in Mortal Kombat. There was a girl in one of my writer's groups a long time ago who had a son named Raistlin, as in the Dragonlance series.
Why not just tattoo DORK on their foreheads and be done with it? I'm all for fun sci-fi stuff (see the zombinja reference above), but really. Even I know that's going too far, and I'm the kind of person who is already trying to figure out if I can bribe people into dressing up like merpires, werethings, and disposable humans. I need a new blog design.
Oh, and the title? For Want of a Machete.
Le sigh. My normal Wednesday post is below. I tried to set this one up for tomorrow morning, but apparently I don't know what day it is, so it's up early. Whenever you're reading this, pretend that it's Thursday.