Sometimes I curse mother for calling me Shiraz-Bailey Wood. I get well sick to death of the same question again and again: “You’re called Shiraz? Like in the wine? And Baileys? As in that creamy booze stuff that Nans get hammered on at Christmas?” Yeah, funny, bruv’ I say, ‘Oops there’s another widdle in my pants from laughing… never heard that one before!!’ I usually say this while counting slowly from 1-10 in my head. Uma says I gotta count do when I’m feeling angry. Uma has been in anger management classes so she knows about this.
Sometimes I wish I had a normal name. Carrie, for example, according to a baby name website I just found, means ‘French Song of Joy’. HA HA HA, mate I~ have heard her singing and it ain’t joy. Even if she’s singing in French. And Uma means ‘Hindu Goddess’. Very fancy-schmancy.
I went on google today and it was saying that Shiraz is ‘one of the great red wine grapes’. Fair enough. It could be worse… at least mine is ORIGINAL AND UNIQUE, and it certainly ain’t a name you need to kill yourself over like Peaches or Pixie. Or Gwyneth Paltrow’s daughter Apple. Or that geezer out of My Name is Earl’s Jason’s Lee has got a son who is called Pilot Inspektor?!?! Yeah whatever bruv, why not give your kid a name that sounds like a job down at Heathrow airport. Just better make sure he never goes to Superchav Academy. He’ll spend ever day picking his bag out of the school pond, innit?
Shiraz xx
