by Madam Mystic Misty (Murky) Merkel
Associate Psychic Correspondent
Humor News Nuts Online Publications
Well, it's another month and I have to predict
that the weather will be hot and dry.
There will be some movies released but, all but a couple will be flops.
And, speaking of flops, my sisters came up to
visit me recently and we had some catching up to do. As most people know my sisters were born at
the same time that I was and, I don't mean we were born a few hours apart or
even minutes apart. Instead, we all
three came out at the exact same time. I
guess that's kind of rare except in cases where the parents are close
relatives. My parents are only
shirttail cousins so; the aforementioned close-relatives case did not
apply.
Now, as far as names are concerned my parents had
no idea what to name us girls until after we were born. Then, as the story goes that my dad always
told, dad took a look at each one of us and named us after whatever descriptive
word popped into his brain and since my dad loved limericks he decided to rhyme
all three names. The first one he named
was my sister Christie. He named here
Christie because she looked like his first girlfriend Christie Margot.
Well, with the first of us being named Christie I
and my unnamed sister would have to have names that rhymed with Christy. So, as my dad told us he looked at me and saw
that my eyes were a milky-blue like they had mist over them so, that's why he
named me Misty. Then, he saw my as yet
unnamed sister and noticed that she was kind of all jumbled up. It seems her arms were down where her legs
should be and her legs were up where her arms should be and her head was stuck-up
in a place that I'm not going to mention in this blog because she'd never
forgive me. Anyway, my dad noticed how
twisted up she was so he named her Twisty.
Now, although poor little Twisty was born with
things not being quite in the right place, being that she was a newborn baby her
skin and bones were still very pliable and the midwife who delivered us was
some sort of Rubik's Cube champion and she immediately went to work on Christy,
moving her little limbs and head around into all sorts of contorted ways until
Christy looked just like a normal little girl.
So, all three of us were born healthy little kids
with a neat story to tell as to how each of us was named by our father. However, I have to say that dad’s story
turned out to be a big lie; at least it was a big lie in my case. For several years later when I was applying
for my driver’s license and needed my birth certificate I noticed that on the
birth certificate my first name was not Misty but instead, was Murky. That's
right; my real name is Murky Merkel. I
was of course extremely depressed. My
father had abandoned our family to make another one when I and my sisters were
just eight years old so I couldn't feel any more anger at my dad for naming
Murky then I had for him for leaving our family to begin a new, "better
family" as he tells all of his relatives.
I did find out from my dad's dad why I was named
Murky. Evidently my dad took one look at
me and said that I was a "sullen, uninspiring little girl that had no
pizzazz." And, that's why they call
me Murky although; I still go by Misty to the public. I figure that for seventeen years I went my
Misty and everyone knew me by that name that I should still be able to use
it. Misty may not be the name on my
drives license but, the photo on my driver’s license doesn’t look much like me
either. In fact, if you looked at that
photo you'd probably think that the person in the photo looked like a Murky
Merkel. A photo ID never shows much
"pizzazz."
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