My name is Nell Frizzell. It's a pretty normal name. No complaints from me, apart from maybe the occasional exaggeration of the assonance in my name by loud-mouthed retard receptionists in waiting rooms.But reading the news this morning I was struck with a terrible realisation about the potentially awful consequences of my name.If, say, a couple of years ago I had been a little more slack about the use of contraception, and had become pregnant, and had decided to have the baby, and, say, I had given birth to a boy, I may well have called him Joe. Full name: Joseph.Skip forward two years and I would now be the mother of… Joseph Frizzell.Fine, until the poor boy is on his first school trip to Europe and suddenly, in the broken English accent, Joseph Frizzell sounds identical to Josef Fritzl. At once, my own dear son is the 73-year-old Austrian pervert who will forever be associated with rape, imprisonment, incest, enslavement and murder.That’ll teach me to keep my legs crossed. Or to avoid calling my son Joseph.
