It's they are jealous. The name distracts the brain. It conjures all repressed and denied hurts we people walk with as unnecessary baggage. Rumi said, "It makes absolutely nothing what people say about you." My dad said, "Watch your reputation, it follows you disgracefully to the grave."

It's as if you expand politicians thought, or you are a big bastard who demands respect. With a name like Sonofbasterd, you remind me of a time, under this maladministration, when a couple obese lawyers called be, "You bastard!" "You son of a ****h!" And other rampaging 'stuff' which they lied about and stuffed into the dark-pot Psycho. That is a mistake. Crap is begging to percolate forth?

'Um feerful at the "left" and the "right" blogs because your name sounds like you are goin' kick a mule in the groin? You live in San Francisco, so that means you seen feerful sufferin' and who wants to be beaten up or mugged by a Sonofbasterd?

It's what they use to call a 'below the belt,' or a 'sucker punch,' and a cold c**k punch Waco? I knot flirtation with you, yuze still seem a scary a holler at da' liberals. This ain't a San Fran holler joint and people get all gaulin' heart-broken here too.

I beginnings' to wish my name was Sonafbasterd. My father and mama were beautifuler than me, and I think a mabbey have the resemblance of the goat milker in my neck of the woods. Don't holler. It's the afternoon siesta hour on the east coast and blossoms are bursting out and I'm assuming flower fragrance and pollen are making me keep stretching out on a limb. Of clost some tomes we look for a fight and clost to find one, so it's okay to dozy away like me and take a nap in the lowly grass places where no one can find me.

I wuz gonna' do some mortification penance because I feel damn stunde' stupid and ailed because it seems everybody 'round here is angry at me for abandoning my mind. I can't remember to unroll my stocockins when I wash them and I don't know how to act in a presentable fashion, anymore.

I don't pay no attention to those that call me a lazy bastard, a chubby one, or a son of the goat milker, anymore. This is innercent. okay? no family feuds, today.