Looking back, this was a good thing. Because I would have gone apeshit if I had known, and my mother would have been driven mad at my chanting of “IWANNAMEETACAREBEAR” ad infinitum.

I am not kidding. His name is Forrest. Rice.

There is someone on this planet with the name Forrest Rice.

He’s a huge dick. He hates pretty much everything, but worships at the altar of Stanley Kubrick. I think we can attribute that all the way back to when he got the name FORREST RICE!

Oh, and I got to meet the Ninja Turtles when I was 4 at Walt Disney World (at the Disney-MGM Studios). I knew they weren’t real, but I still loved it anyway.

I can commiserate with the naming dilemma. I was fortunate in that I wasn’t the first-born female in my family. My sister was the one fated to having the exact same first and middle names as most of the women on my father’s side. Can I tell you how annoying/mind-numbing it is to go to a family reunion and see 28 women all name “Mary Elizabeth”? You run out of variations really quickly, let me tell you that much. It’s probably a good thing more than half of that family isn’t speaking to us. More Mary Elizabeths to get confused.

I like cotton candy but hate cotton candy flavored products like tooth paste. The soul exception being cotton candy bubble gum, but that leaves a funny film on the teeth.

I too plan on getting married in Vegas. Most likely by an Elvis impersonator. Or a Liberace impersonator. Or on a cruise ship. A cruise ship would greatly limit the amount of annoying family members drinking on my dime.

The thought of empty character suits is really creepy. I can completely understand freaking out over that.