I like it when people call me “Splotch”.
It makes me feel like I’m the new recruit in a 1940’s war movie, away from home for the first time, but determined to fight for his country, and in support of his fellow soldiers.
Yes, the guy that tragically gets killed in the first act.
Still, a nice nickname.
A snippet of dialogue from that movie:
Sarge: Hey, where’s that kid? Where’s Splotch?
Jimmy: Sarge, he didn’t make it. He jumped on that grenade and he saved 15 of us when he did so.
Sarge: (With a tear in his eye) Damn that kid was brave.
Jimmy: I’m naming my first kid Splotch when we get back home after we beat these stinkin’ Krauts.
Sarge:You do that, ol’ Splotch was a true hero. I gonna visit his folks after the war and tell them what a great kid he was.
OK – here’s one for you: I hate being called Ten — my nickname (if a blog persona can have a nickname) is ‘Grain. And even then, you have to be one of the select few who gets to call me ‘Grain.
(I’m so freakin’ French is bothers me sometimes.)
Regards,
‘Grain
You got it Splotch. Shall I greet you with an affectionate slap on the back, or a mock punch to the upper arm, or merely point “finger guns” at you when I call out “hey, Splotch!”?