Friday, December 17, 2010

Would a rose by any other be just as awesome?

I've been looking at a few other blogs lately and noticed that most people to go on about their life story.  So I guess I'll chuck in the occasional snippet in between the pop culture rants and updates of feline-based villiany.  The best place to start would be the thing I started with; a name.  I was originally going to be Darcy Llewellyn Roberts.  However, there was some disagreement as to how awesome this name was, and I ended up with Benjamin Darcy instead.  Honestly, I'd have much preferred the first option.  The meanings alone are worth it.  My current name means "Son of the right hand Fortress" when I could've been "Fortress Ruler".  In other words, King of the Fort.  Another was the name calling.  When I started school, rhyming was still a popular starting point, so I ended up with "Ben the Pen" and "Ben the Hen".  Now, "Ben the Pen" wasn't a problem because back then, using a pen was a privelige, and a had always been fond of the written word.  As for "Ben the Hen", that manages to call me both a chicken and a girl, to of the worst insults you can get.  If I was Darcy, there was only classy and ar*ey.  Classy isn't exactly an insult, and the other would've resulted in a washed mouth.  I did get my mouth washed out, once.  Thing is, it was for one that's become everyday language for most people.  It was only sh*t.  If I'd gone for the Grandaddy, I would've had a washed mouth, red bottom and an early bedtime.  Of course, the namecalling evolved as schooling went on.  I've had loser, moron, retard, fagget, goober (if anyone knows this, please tell) as well as nerd, dork and geek, (I like those three).  Once I hit high school, things elevated further.  I won't repeat thos names as they got quite colourful, including the dreaded "C-Word" about twice.  Thanks to all this, I wasn't to fond of people and labelled myself an insociable bastard.  But all that changed fairly recently, when I discovered there was a noticeable portion of the human race that weren't complete bastards.

1 comment:

  1. Lucky bastard! As soon as I hit year four, I've been called rather colourful names. At least you got the rhymes to start with. But fortunately for me, being a four year rugby juggernaut, no one's ever thought to take their actions further then name calling.