Naming Convention

Stardate: 5th Feb 2007 (just)
Listening to: PC

Regressed further into my gaming childhood today and cranked up BF1942 to see if those planes were mid-air repairable, since this is my new hobby for February. It turns out that you [i]can[/i] fix them, but they have to want to be fixed. The Spitfire I was flying avoided Dr. Bayls like a sick child needing a suppository. View the video evidence here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOE1U_-WxnQ

This also reminded me about the status of the build queue - 95%, and all is well. Or so I thought. There's still a naming convention to be decided, with the shock news delivered today by the stern-faced She_Admiral that "Admiral_Bayls v2.0" is not an acceptable child's name. Apparently neither are "Trogdor" or "Apollo Creed". This 120 second conversation effectively eclipsed my input into the conception process this far, not counting the embarrassing charade that was my participation in antenatal classes. These classes essentially involved scared men manipulating Cabbage Patch dolls through articulated pelvises, or hurriedly passing around crocheted uteruses, complete with detachable velcroed cervixes, while looking around nervously. Still, at least we all shared a common bond. Over OJ and a slice of watermelon one tiring night, I casually asked another prospective father "What's your KDR on Mashturd, soldier?", sensing that the "Expressing and You" book he was holding was merely a prop to hide his disgust at being there. Either that or he was just looking at the b00bz0rz. Wordlessly, he turned and walked away - clearly an IO server man, but I felt we'd shared a moment. He didn't salute, but I let it go.

Anyway, as anyone who knows me, or has read a single post from me knows, I shy from confrontation and disagreement like a timid bunny. I hate controversy and argument, and the "Trogdor" rejection really upset me - I needed to clear my head so that I could contribute. I resigned myself to loading up Hitman: Blood Money on the XBOX and playing for 3 solid hours for the sake of the relationship while the She_Admiral relaxed in the sunshine hanging the washing. As I was mentally debating over whether $50k for the armour-piercing ammo for the W2000 Sniper Rifle made sense a couple of hours later, the sound of the lawnmower starting roused me from my thoughts and I realised the solution to the naming issue had become apparent.

I raced to Westfield Marion in the Phat Ride, attempting some "drifting" on the way. Once again, I couldn't get the car afloat, so abandoned the attempt and drove instead. Made a bee-line upstairs and got a Wendy's hotdog with cheese, texting the She_Admiral on the way to remind her to whippersnip the grass hanging over the gutter out front. I think it's important to do little things like that now and then, just so she knows I'm thinking about her (and the ugly grass on the footpath). She replied "It's 40 degrees!". That's what I love about her - so selfless! I shot back "Marion has aircon - I'm fine! xxx".

Sucking hard on my giant Crunchie & M&M ultrachoc megashake, I only had time to grab a couple of Wetzels Pretzels before I was at "Fellas" my ultimate destination. Scouring the store, I found what I... no what we needed: a 500 chip Texas Hold 'em set we could use to decide who got to name the baby. I checked the silver case: Numbered chips, check! Playing cards, problem... boring stock cards. "Got any nudie playing cards?" I asked the barely legal teen behind the counter. "Nup!" was the succinct reply. Pah, they call themselves a purveyor of bloke-stuff!

Arrived home just as the She-Admiral was finishing up with the lawns and cracked open the set while she got me a beer. "None for you" I cautioned, "remember the baby - you need to relax". I dealt the cards and thus "Championship Name Game Texas Hold 'em 2007" commenced. A tense few hands later, victory was mine, a victory that seemed all too easy. The She_Admiral said she must have lost because she was feeling dizzy, light-headed and sick, but deep down I think she "lost" on purpose, subconsciously validating my name-creating skillz. Even though I'd accepted the victory, she persisted with the "sick" act by "passing out" on the floor. Heh, what a little actor, and what an imagination! I bet "Sunstroke" isn't even a real thing!

Anyways. Now all I need is a cool name - might need a poll!