I'd blog today, but I'm too depressed.
My good friends Brad and Angelina had their baby girl over the weekend and did not, as promised, name her Kukka-Maria. As a result, I am forced to declare a secret fight with them (so secret, they do not even know about it).
There is nothing I both love and loathe more than a secret fight.
To lessen the sting of the naming outrage, Brad did call and request I fly to Namibia so I could be one of the first to give Shiloh headbutts and nuzzlins (which I would have been, had my mother not demonstrated such blatant selfishness by refusing to take me to renew my passport--insisting I didn't have a passport to renew in the first place). The more I stew on this, though, the more I perceive Brad's "generous" invitation as a feeble attempt to placate me.
Boo, Brad Pitt. Boo...
Despite the fact that Shiloh is a pretty name and means "peaceful one," I just don't get why they wouldn't want to name their baby Kukka, which means "flower" and Maria, which some believe means "the perfect one," while others believe means "bitter" and "rebellious." I'm with the former.
Considering my romantic history with Brad, our subsequent strong friendship, and his admission to harboring undying, lingering love for me, I know it must be Angelina who refused to bestow my regal name on their baby. Jealousy doesn't look good on you, Ange.
Boo, Angelina Jolie. Boo...
Secret fight on!