2004-05-19 - 10:04 a.m.
Remember: Don't buy gas today!
This morning on Stern Alanis Morisette sang �I can be an assbowl,� in lieu of using the word asshole, due to fear of repurcussions from the FCC. This serves as further evidence that we reside in the stupidest country ever, where people are forced to speak nonsense to avoid saying a �bad word.�
As if there aren�t worse things to worry about.
No, not Abu Ghraib, I�m talking about people naming their kid Apple. What were that macrobiotic food eater and melancholy rocker thinking? You know how sentimental droolers write their children letters when they�re babies, so they can read it when they�re of age? Let�s see what the parents of Apple Martin were thinking:
Dearest Apple:
We are so happy that you are alive. Yes, it�s true, Mummy and Daddy had a shotgun wedding because I told Daddy I was on the pill, when in fact I wasn�t. I wanted him to knock me up so he wouldn�t leave me like Brad and Ben. And now, he is mine forever. Muhuhuhuhhahahaha!
At any rate, dear Apple, you may be wondering why we gave you such a unique and amazing name. The fact of it is, Mummy is a depressed, pinch-faced, fake ass British woman, and this fact remains after she�s ingested large amounts of antidepressants and other kinds of happy medication. Daddy is a miserable fuck too, who only finds solace in writing beautiful music with his band, Coldplay. It was okay for us to be codependent downers before you came along, but we promised each other that once you were here, it�d be nothing but blue skies. We decided to name you Apple because we figured if we gave you a stupid, imbecilic name so we�d laugh each time we called you or thought of you, thus creating the illusion of happiness. With Mummy and Daddy laughing and smiling all of the time, you�d be convinced that you were growing up in a healthy, happy, prescription free environment rather than the emotionally charged, one-step-away-from-the-crazy-house mansion in which we actually live.
With a name like Apple, you will either grow up to suffer from the same DSM-IV diagnoses as your father and I, or you'll add an "i" to the end of your name so your stripper pseudonym can be "Apple Martini." We hope you�ll strive for the sense of normalcy that your name has never allowed you to experience. Either way, we hope your endeavors will lead to great wealth, because Mummy hasn�t made a good movie since Shakespeare in Love. That airplane shit was a comedic disaster, and on the other side of that disastrous spectrum is the misery that�s the movie Sylvia. Daddy is a brilliant musician and Coldplay will rock on for a few more years, but soon he�ll be suffocated by his own pomposity and melancholy and he�ll lose his ability to sing.
We love you Apple, and we hope that when you�re older, you won�t hate us for the pain you�re bound to suffer in school because of your ridiculous name.
Love,
Your parents
p.s. Don�t believe a word of this Apple, there�s a maniac named Pencopal who has read too much Page Six and is forcing me to write this at gunpoint.
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