I call my left nipple Randal. Don’t know why I’d thought it best to share that with you, but it’s out there. That horrific image is your problem now. Ha, ha, ha.
No, of course not. It always bewildered me as to why people thought this should be a requirement of their existence. I just don’t understand it. Oh yes, today I must put out the bins, tidy up, and look through some names for parts of my body. I’m not one to judge, if folk want to do that, then by all means, go for it. But your body is one lump. Giving a part of it a name is presuming it has a character. But it’s a part of you. Surely, your whole body has the same character. It’s incomprehensible as to why one would think otherwise. ‘Ah yes, my lucky foot. I call him Michael. Its character strikes up impressions of that name’. What the – heck – are you talking about? You are the one giving it that character. It – hasn’t – got – a – brain. Am I the only one flummoxed by this? I’m getting frustrated. I need a hot mocha and a cold bath. I think that’s humans do when they’re flummoxed.
Go on, be honest readers – have you named any part of your body?
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