I Hope They're Not Boys

So, I promised that this wasn't going to turn into a Daddy Blog, but, as those little buggers are kind of on my mind (and on my wife's bladder) a lot, I'm allowed to nattle on on about it a little bit, aren't I?

When you announce that you're having twins, people say stupid shit to you. They can't help it, though-- they're sort of like dogs who impetuously slam their muzzles into your balls. You can't really yell at or blame the dog, it's just something it does. People who have heard that you're having twins are no different. Except for the fact that they're not (usually) placing their faces in your crotch.

I won't go through the litany of annoying and repetitive questions people ask you, but there is a pre-determined formula or script, believe me, and, somehow everybody knows it, because everybody recites it with very little variation and, at work, I go through this kind of annoying Q&A session with people regularly.

My wife brought home this book called "Twinsense" from the library, and it was written by some chick whose name is "Dagmara", which is funny to me because, obviously, if you're reading a book about twins, you're thinking about baby names. And there is no way in hell you're going to be thinking about "Dagmara".

You know, unless you're an idiot. But you're reading this blog, so, clearly, you're not. Unless you're one of those idiots who got here by Googling the phrase "donkey porn". Do me a favor? Stop Googling my site looking for donkey porn.

Anyway, this book, "Twinsense" features the exhaustive list of things people say to you/ask you a.) When you tell them you're having twins and b.) Once you've had and are parading around with your twins. It's funny, because people really do say this shit. What's even funnier than that is that she goes on for quite a while about how politeness is the way to deal with people who ask inane/inappropriate/annoying questions about twinnage. And I was reading that thinking, "Mm, that's mature." Except that, on the next page, she creates an intensive list of fresh/snappy/snarky retorts that you can use to answer every single question/comment listed on the previous page. And I was thinking, "Mm, that's mature."

Mrs. Apron and I are going to find out the gender, in approximately six weeks. We're not going to tell you, though, or anybody, really. It's not going to be a secret, because we'll know, but it'll be our secret, because we'll know. If it were just one, we'd leave it alone until birth but, with two, we feel like we need to know.

Mostly, in my opinion, to cut down on the amount of names we need to come up with. Seriously, it's no fucking joke. Girl names we're good on. In fact, the more baby name books I read, and the more websites I look at, I end up adding more. Boy names are, um...

Well, let's be blunt: boy names blow. They suck. They're for shit. They're fucking awful. And most of the good ones end in the letter "n", and my last name begins and ends with the letter "n", so those "n"-ending names are pretty much out, because, with my last name, those names sound ridiculous.

Let me tell you something, if these kids both turn out to be boys, we're really fucked. Not only is there going to be pee ABSOLUTELY EVERYWHERE, and I'm including our walls/ceilings/hair/food as part of "ABSOLUTELY EVERYWHERE", but these kids are most likely going to end up with some terrible-ass names.

She likes Jewish names.

I am trying to convince her that our children will have the map of Israel tattooed on their faces and their airplane hangar-sized noses such that they will not necessitate being branded with Hebjew names that scream out "JEW, JEW, JEW!"

I like names descended from the U.K.

Surprised?

Regardless of the ethno-friction between us delicious little marrieds, the simple fact remains that, even if we agreed on which nation/people the boy names ought to be descended from, they're all basically awful.

I mean, sure, there's "Hrothgar". But what if they're both boys? What boy name goes well with "Hrothgar"?

Remember the Jerky Boys?

Don't ask me what inspired me to write this post. It's just not worth it, because I wouldn't be able to tell you. At least, not without some unfortunate bit of extraneous food stuck in between two of my teeth.

You might find it difficult to stomach the fact that a pedant like me, with a Gilbert & Sullivan fetish big enough to give anyone with the last name D'Oyly Carte a hardon, (I'll excuse you while you go Google, um, that) is also a passionate fan of "The Jerky Boys," the moronic creation of Queens residents Johnny Brennan and his (apparently former) friend, Kamal, but, it's true.

I am.

Play "Tarbash, the Egyptian Magician" for me, or stroll down Memory Lane with me while listening to used car salesman Frank Rizzo expound on his salesmanship strategies to a potential employer, ("Look, you got this fucker, he don't know if he wants to buy-- this or that-- I push his face right in the fuckin' hood and I say, 'YOU BUY THIS FUCKIN' CAR, OR I'LL BREAK YOUR FUCKIN' HEAD!' Look, bring in a tank, I'll sell the fuckin' thing!") and I'm pretty much just putty in your hands.

Don't you want me to be putty in your fuckin' hands, Rubberneck?

I'm old enough that I can remember listening to "The Jerky Boys" on a goddamned Walkman (TM) while in the backseat of my father's Pontiac Bonneville on family trips to the beach, sharing the headset with my sister, the two of us howling until our stomachs cramped up and tears streamed down our cheeks.

It wasn't high comedy. Christ, it wasn't even low comedy. It was prank calls. But, if prank calls are the game, then elevating the game to a near-operatic level was what the Jerky Boys did. Creating twenty fleshed out characters, including the legendary Jewish stereotype, Sol Rosenberg ["my glasses and my shoes fell off and they shoved pinecones up my ass!"], that has made a popularity resurgence as Mort Goldman on "Family Guy" is no small feat. Johnny Brennan and Kamal created some of the most hilarious moments in telephone history. It's a shame that their relationship ended badly, though. Kamal wanted out in 2000, and, evidently, Brennan believed that this also meant that Kamal wanted his creative contributions (from 1989-2000) to be totally expunged from the history of the duo-- the Jerky Boys' website makes absolutely no mention of Kamal or the hysterical characters he created. Which is a pity. But I wouldn't expect less from two immature schmoes who were responsible for creating double platinum records simply by picking up the phone.

When my cellphone rings, and the number is unfamiliar, I never pick it up, and maybe it's because I grew up on "The Jerky Boys."

Either way--- leave a goddamn message, Sizzle Chest.