A Name Change err maybe

Hi Guy’s, been a while since I put finger to keyboard and produced another amazing load of blurb using only the 26 letters of the alphabetty spagetty. You will have to excuse any spelling mistakes as the alphabetty spagetty in our local store was on special offer and I’m guessing from the mistakes in the text so far means there is a few letters missing from the kan (see what I did there?)

Anyway, the reason for me tinkering on the old laptop keyboard is to inform you that I have not died or anything, it’s just that I’m not finding the recent prompts igniting the old brain cells. Are you finding this also? I see a few of my dear old pals are not posting much either and it cannot be all down to Covid 19, online abuse or a broken pencil!

“Well post a prompt of your own then” I hear you say, what do you think I am, stupid? (Don’t answer that!)

I’ve been toying with the idea, (along with a certain amount of prompting from my peers) of changing my name, by deed poll you understand along with the usual extortionate fee.

For some time now, everyone that knows me, friends, family, acquaintancies, work colleagues etc are convinced my surname is Kent! No, I kid you not and for all those doubting that anyone could see me as a Kent and not a Race; I’ll give you an example.

I attended a christening recently and was rather late getting to the church and the ceremony had already begun. It was my first attendance of a christening as I have not been christened myself, I was exorcised or so my dad said and for years I thought my name was “Bloody Hell” as that was all my dad ever said when he looked at me.

So I walk into the church and that flipping oak door always creeks open which causes everyone to turn round and glare at you and when you shut it those bleeding iron latches always make a humongous clang which causes the relatives to hiss a shhhhhh at you which does not help ones blood pressure either. As I turned to face the crowd who were sat in their pews, they were all staring at me which is why I am undecided as to whether to change my name or not as they all said in unison “OHHH Julian he’s a Kent” and always late. I swear I even saw the baby’s mouth move also!

I mused the idea for a while before taking a seat in the only space left in the church which luckily was right on the front bench next to the Mother and Father of the very baby that was being christened. I nudged them sideways, took my seat and looked up at the vicar. He had the baby in his arms and then dunked it’s head into what looked very much like a stone planter I have in my garden at home. Three times he did it then held the snivelling baby up in the air. How was I to know he wasn’t offering the baby up to anyone else who fancied a go at dunking it in the font? I took him up on the offer and only got to two dunks before I was escorted out of the church to the chorus of Julian, he a Kent. Anyway, I managed to explain my mistake and I’m allowed to see the said child once every ten years which under the circumstances suits me also.

So, what do you think should I remain as Julian Race or go with the popular vote of Julian Heeza Kent? Answers on a hymn sheet to Reverend Julian Race, St Pamphlets, Beelzebub W1.