Thanks. Very traumatic at the time though.
Cool! I wish I had a birthday that was a sentence.
You can imagine the lengths I went to in thinking of my user name. It’s my initials and I occasionally call myself gigi when I chastise myself. I am regretting not having given it a little more thought, because I would dearly love to be geegaw.
:: tiptoe ::
:: tiptoe ::
:: tiptoe ::
:: tiptoe ::
BAAAWK!
:: runs ::
Now that’s just mean. 
I live in Thailand, which used to be called Siam. But my name is not Sam. I simply thought Siam Sam sounded better than Bangkok Bob or Thailand Tom.
Hides in the corner
You big meanie.
Do you ever run around and ask men “What’s the capital of Thailand?” and then slam them in the nads shouting “Bangkok!” ? Because kids around here do.
How rude of me! I thought “Annie” was a play on “anti”!
What comes after L?
Bow!
Maybe my username should have been “Call me immature!”
I’m a bookkeeper both by vocation (accountant) and avocation (own more than 2500). The choice was obvious.
Hee hee - you’re a big meanie, you are.
I have worked with mice in research for over five years and I have a thing for alliteratives (and rhyme, hence Mouse_Spouse).
Mice and I have a lot in common: We’re small, we’re nervous and we tend to hide in dark corners.
I’m an atheist and certainly don’t celebrate the holiday. But I’ve never thought of my name that way before.
Consider ignorance fought.
No thought whatsoever. I have a red swingline on my desk, ala office space. (I bear no resemblance to Milton. 
) I added the ‘one’ on the end for a little pazaaz.
Oh, that wasn’t mean, that was just a good-natured ribbing following the admittance of a delightfully amusing youthful anecdote into evidence.
Mean would have been to throw a live chicken at him.
I found it in the dryer after I did laundry one day. Nobody would admit to leaving it in their pockets, so along with thirty-seven cents, a button, a poker chip, and three candy bar wrappers, it became mine.
I have a song in my head nearly all the time. Changes with the weather, my mood, or whatever I’ve been listening to recently. When I was signing up for a username, it was a phrase from the song that happened to be in my head, and it seemed like something no one else would already have chosen.
I have, since then, regretted not have a song in my head at the time that was composed of shorter phrases, but it’s too late now.
Bolding mine.
You mean “her”.
Her. And that wouldn’t be mean to me, that would be mean to the chicken. Didn’t you read the story?
Did I say “him?” Terribly sorry, bird-brained moment. 
I would, however, have made sure not to throw it at you when you have an oar (or any other implement of, um … poultrytudinous death) in your hand. Otherwise I might join in the emotional trauma.
Mine is my old SCA name. Which I didn’t even use, really, in the SCA. Which I haven’t been involved in since I left Atlanta, five years ago.