The only thing of interest from the weekend is I’m almost positive I caught Alan and Julie holding hands. But since A: I respect their privacy and secondly, the last thing I wanna do is make myself barf by talking bout someone holding hands with someone like Alan, I must move quick to safer, firmer, less barf-inducing subject matter.

So, what you get this afternoon is a list of baby names eliminated from contention by either Wife-asaurus or me.

Milo. This woulda been a fine name, til we realized we know a couple who have a son named Milo. So … Milo, we strike you off the list. Though if, in the next three months, we have a permanent falling-out with that couple, and we know we won’t ever talk to or cross paths with them again, Milo goes right back on the list of contenders.

David. My current Mexican bête noire is David. Clearly, I can’t name my son David, cause every time I talk to him or think of him, I’ll think of kitchen Mexican bête noire David, who didn’t feel like telling me he had things to add to the list of things I had to pick up from the store. He waited til I got all the way back to tell me he needed sausage, beans, tomatoes, cabbage and sour cream (not for the same dish, don’t worry). So I had to turn around and head right back, which I didn’t much feel like doing. As a result, we had the following little back and forth before I left:

ME: Jesus Christ, I was just at the goddamn store, why didn’t you tell me?

DAVID: I didn’t know!

ME: I told you I was going!

DAVID: No, you didn’t!

ME: Yes I did!

DAVID: No, you didn’t!

ME: Fine, fuck it, you go then!

DAVID: Is not my job!

(So we’re not naming him David.)

Otto. There’s a dachshund in the extended family named Otto. Otto’s okay if you’re a dachshund, but not exactly okay if you’re a human. I thought she was wasting ink by even jotting it down on the list of preliminary contenders. Though Otto is a palindrome. A palindromic name cannot be dismissed outta hand. (Bob, Anna, Eve, Tit, Boob, Poop, Ono, etc.)

Felix. There’s something bout the name Felix. Not quite sure what it is, but … has there been a cool Felix? That Felix the Cat wasn’t, no matter how much his theme song told you he was. (I never knew what the fuck was going on with those cartoons. Though Glen loved ‘em. He even had a Felix the Cat lunchbox.) And as far as Felix Unger goes, well … he wasn’t cool. He was funny, but only cause he was so neurotic, stuck living with a slob like Oscar Madison. You take Oscar Madison outta the equation, Felix Unger’s just some guy who got kicked out by his wife and now lives alone, cleaning his apartment all day long. That’s depressing. You don’t name your kid a depressing name.

Otis. Otis is an awesome name. Nothing depressing bout this name. Imagine how cool my kid’d be if he was named Otis. He’d be so cool I wouldn’t be able to take it. I’d freak the fuck out. You can color her unimpressed, though. She gets no heat from Otis, and … in the spirit of compromise, I agreed to eliminate Otis from the list of Heavy Hitters. (The secret to any successful relationship is compromise.)

Ezra. There was that crappy band Better Than Ezra. Why would I name my kid a name that’s gonna make me remember a crappy band? She fought like hell, she really did. She thinks Ezra’s a cool name, but there’s a few things about which I will say over my dead body. One of those things is giving my kid a name that’ll make me think of a band that was crappy.

Ben. Ben would be an awesome name. Wife-asaurus has different ideas. One of her exes was/is named Ben. I told her that was a pretty shitty excuse for striking a name off the list. She said so’s my excuse for Ezra. I said but Better Than Ezra really does suck and her ex also sucked but so did all her other exes from back then. She had a phase where all her ‘men’ were morons. That phase was well and truly over by the time I strolled into her life.

Ethan. I tried to read Ethan Hawke’s novel. I didn’t get very far. Plus, what kinda idiot cheats on Uma Thurman? I have the same problem with Fisher Stevens, who (legend has it) cheated on Michelle Pfeiffer, though it’s worse with Fisher Stevens, cause … well, Ethan Hawke’s Ethan Hawke. Fisher Stevens is no Ethan Hawke. And my kid will be no Ethan.

Aidan. Much like Milo, the name Aidan was taken from us by selfish friends who just had to have the name Aidan all to themselves. I hope they’re happy, knowing they took a perfectly good name and kept it. (In their defense, Aidan’s a hysterical kid, a total blast, and the name fits him. It just ticks me off that we can’t use it.)

Luke. Rhymes with puke, Duke, nuke, mook, cuke, gook, juke, kook and book (if you pronounce it slightly wrong). Need I go on?

Jacob. Not sure why we crossed Jacob off the list. Why did we? Cause Jacob from Lost turned out to be really lame by the time we saw who he was? Cause we both hated the movie Jacob’s Ladder? Cause if we wanted to call him Jake, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from calling him Jake the Snake, and Jake the Snake is a dumb nickname for your kid, unless he plays sports, which our kid almost certainly won’t? I’m gonna hafta ask Wife-asaurus when she gets home. Maybe she remembers why we crossed Jacob off the list.

Eamon. Too trendy. It’s like Liam and Ewan. Sides, someone took those names too. As well as Owen. And Ian. And even Ioan. I woulda considered Owen and Ian (but not Ioan, which is too precious by at least half). Man oh man. All these couples taking names we mighta wanted. It’s like we’re being punished cause everyone else had kids already. It’s not our fault we waited til we were bored and couldn’t think of anything else to do with our lives so I knocked her up.

Simon. What a cool kid our kid’d be if we named him Simon. (Simon would go perfect with our last name. Perfect. And wow, maybe he’ll wind up realizing that he should grow a mustache like they had on Simon and Simon. This is a few years down the pike. He wouldn’t  have a mustache til he’s … sixteen, at least. But wow, could you imagine how proud I would be of my kid if he had an awesome mustache? Whatever he wanted, I would make sure he had, just cause of that mustache of his.) Alas, she won’t even entertain the notion. Why’s anyone’s guess, cause she won’t say. Prolly, it’s cause of another one of her moron exes …