Before you read the title and think I’ve been sowing my wild oats, I assure you my virginity remains intact, my practice of chastity unbroken. While the internet was down at my house this past week, I had free time to ponder many things. Today’s title comes from my musings on the glorious names I’d bequeath to my sons, should I one day have a family.
My first son would be named “Leonidas”, in homage of the badass Spartan king who died for his country and kin at Thermopylae. My second son would be named “Brock”, and would necessitate changing the family name to “Samson”–because “Brock Samson” may be the manliest name of all time (“Dick Steel” placing as a close second).
If, by the the birth of my second son, the good Lord thinks the world can withstand a third male of my line, he would also be named “Samson” , his full name therefore being “Samson Samson”. It rolls off the tongue, and I can just hear some terrified gangster (a descendant of the Philistines, no doubt) panting it to the rest of his gang as a warning, after watching my offspring tear through a score of his cronies with his bare hands.
Of course, now that I’ve said this in the open, God may decide all future fruit of my loins will be females, in which case they will doubtless be like the daughters of Job…renowned for their beauty and wisdom, and desired by all young swains of the land. I sense much gun-cleaning in my future.