Pokémon Nicknames: Sunkern and Sunflora

Hey Orville: Is the term “old maid” for the un-popped kernels, maybe just a little misogynist?

Pokémon Nicknames: Sunkern and Sunflora: Sunkern (in Japanese: ヒマナッツ  “Himanuts”) is a Grass-type which evolves into Sunflora only when exposed to a Sun Stone. The level does not matter, but it remains a Grass-type only. (There is no known Mega-Evolution yet.)

The Japanese name “Himanuts” is actually a pretty cute name right there! … especially if you don’t plan to evolve it. Just keeping the “real” name of a Pokémon — but in a different language — may be a fun way to go about naming your Pokémon.The Japanese name for Sunflora is: キマワリ  or “Kimawari”.

From Bulbapedia: Kimawari may be a combination of 黄 ki (yellow) or 吉 ki (joy), and 向日葵 himawari (sunflower). In French — the Pokémon is called Héliatronc, based on Helios. The German name Sonnflora is based on the German word Sonneblume.

Careful that you do not get inhaled, my dear kernel!

I always like to teach Grass-types HP stealing moves like Giga Drain. Seed Bomb is also one of my favorite attacks. I think a good name would be “CornHusker” after the Nebraska Cornhuskers college team. I have named them “Nebraska” as well, and I believe this will still fit even after Sunkern’s evolution into a sunflower, as sunflower fields are common in the Great Plains states. Ahem, there is nothing “corny” about this flower:

They raise them right in Lincoln, son.

Names like “Orville” or “Redenbacher” would be appropriate, especially if you like that brand of popping corn. “VeryPoppins” or some derivation, might be used. You can play around with these variations.

My favorite name for Sunkern is Cornholio — a character from the old “Beavis and ButtHead” cartoon series. Of course,  Beavis WAS Cornholio – a transformation he would make after accidentally eating too much sugar.

Quoted: “Would you like to see my bunghole?”

What? … you have never seen the show? What on Earth are they teaching kids in school these days?.

If you appreciate black humor, name a Sunkern “Bad Seed” after the famous novel and movie. (The difficult to watch clip is linked here.)

Another dark-comedy name would be “RapeSeed” after the original name for Canola, commonly used in vegetable oil. Please do not be put off by the term Rapeseed.

An awkward moment at Mr. Name Raters house.

If I may digress a little here, the term “Canola” was actually invented by the (Denny is not making this up)  “Rapeseed Association of Canada” in the 1970s. The “Can” part stands for Canada and “ola” refers to oil …

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OW!! OW!!! OWW!!! (At the mention of the word “rapeseed” — a large mannish-looking woman ran to Denny’s seat at the coffee shop and knocked him on the head with a copy of the book “Our Bodies – Ourselves”.

“You said RAPE …” the mammoth lady bellowed, then let out a blood curtailing scream “RAAAAAPE” —– then wacked Denny again.  

The perverse giant raged: “If you joke about rape – THAT MEANS YOU ARE A RAPIST!” —  WACK!!! (Hits Denny again with the book.) .. IST .. IST … IST  .. (Ringing in Denny’s ear)

“But .. I … “(Denny protests) … WHACK — the demonic behemoth clobbers Denny again … 

“Your culture is RAPE … RAAAAPE!!!” – the obese marginally-female trucker bellowed, “You showed a photo of a girl” — that’s RAAAAAAAAAPE!

“Wait, that’s not the same as …”  (Denny tries defending himself) … WHAP! — The acid-crotched mutant nostrils flared, then kicked Denny with its hoof.

“ALL MEN ARE RAAAAAAAPISTS !!!!” … the hideous banshee howled, hitting Denny again with the rolled up feminist manifesto, knocking him unconscious.

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(Denny from his PokéCenter hospital bed): … if I may finally explain: The word “rape” in rapeseed comes from the Latin word rapum meaning “turnip”. (Denny holds head, rubbing bandages) … Turnip...  Turnip, rutabagas, cabbage, Brussels sprouts are all genetically related to rapeseed. Rapeseed is a close relative of mustard seed, and is an important crop which is processed for its vegetable oil.

Who would of thought that this little love flower would cause so much trouble? https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Canola_Flower.jpg#/media/File:Canola_Flower.jpg

The name change became necessary as sensitive American buyers balked at the word “Rape”. Thus we have Canola vegetable oil today.

Thank you for visiting me in the hospital. Oh, you brought me a present … (sound of Denny unwrapping paper). Oh .. my own copy of “Our Bodies / Our Selves” …  Thank You.

I do have two true stories about the OBOS book.

One time when I was 13, I was over at a friend’s house, and his older sister had left out a copy of OBOS. I started reading it, much to my friend’s disgust: “That book is for GIRLS” he teased. Yes, I was aware it was for girls, and also that damn good information was contained within. I had a religious upbringing, so of course I knew nothing about human sexuality. Jesus … I mean Buddha … I did not know anything about lady parts back then. Could it be that Penthouse magazine was lying to me about female sexuality? I needed to find out more of the truth.

“I am doing reconnaissance” I told him. I still remember this one chapter called: “In Amerika, they call us Dikes”. Ha. They used a K.

My second story also goes back to 8^th grade. There was a big controversy at our Junior High school when one of the girl’s Health Ed teachers taught material from “Our Bodies – Ourselves”.  She told the 8^th grade girls that they should – get his — regularly use a mirror in order to look up and examine the insides of their vaginas.

When word of this got out to the parents, they wanted to burn this young teacher at the stake. I remember biking past the school the night of the next PTA meeting. Every damn parking space all over the school and throughout the sports fields were filled with cars, and I saw people pouring in. Any other PTA meeting would have about six people attend, but this time the school rafters were shaking. Parents wanted this teacher FIRED. How dare she teach girls about their own bodies in a course on Sex Education? Of course, looking back, those parents were very ignorant. This was the early 1970s, however. Here in the Midwest we didn’t even know there was such a thing called a “clitoris” until 1971 — two years after the moon landing. These parents thought that sex was dirty, and any teenager who wanted to learn more had to be sinners. Obviously, OBOS was from the Devil.

Look, I am not the expert. I don’t have a clue as to how all those tubes and wires work up there. I DO know that women are the ones in charge of creating life and giving birth. All us guys have to do is just ejaculate, which believe me, is pretty easy. I STRONGLY support any education which encourages young women to stay healthy, and maintain their reproductive facilities. Let’s face it guys, the women have to be the mature ones in human reproductive relationships. Dicks are a dime a dozen.  Happy, healthy and educated young women are the world’s greatest resource.

At 13, I might not have known anything about what goes on up in there, but I would have been willing to learn. (This was light-years before the Internet kids.) Seriously, the hoo-hoo has got to be the world’s most interesting subject. In fact, I am of the opinion that a lady’s hee-hee is where the word “interesting” originates. (I’m running out of alternative terms, for you know).

Meowth in disguise as SunFlora: “Denny promises he’s never gunna say ‘pussy’ again”.

Oh .. The teacher? Well, I was just a dumb 13-year old. So what could I do to save the teacher? She got canned. Too bad, she was young, idealistic and was well liked. She was replaced by a girl’s gym teacher that looked like what a girl’s gym teacher looks like. (Denny holds head:) Ow… All that stuff in OBOS is pretty standard in Health Ed today. It would not be radical today, instead it is the norm.

Starlight: It would be another three years before I would get to look up into one of those beautiful love flowers.

“LuvFlower”? Hey, that might be a good name for a Sunflora!

What is the name of your corn plant or sunflower? Please comment!

 

Think Baseball ! … Baseball !! … Baseball !!!

Gallery

For Readers 18 years and over only. Denny uses “maritime language” here. No kids allowed, and no Judgmental Ninnies.

Welcome. There’s nothing like having a beer and a dog … and another beer … when you watch the game, right? Tell the bartender to turn up the game, and I’ll get us another round!

Baseball season is upon us once again! Remember last fall during the MLB playoffs and World Series? Remember these ads for “Viagra” featured this sexy lady? I guess it makes sense to have the Viagra ads during televised sports. Many men — and a smaller percentage of women — are watching. If you wanted to get a message out to “the guys”, the playoffs were a good time to sow interest. A lot was said about these ads when they aired during the Division Series last fall, I won’t repeat that now, short to say that many people found the discussion of … ahem … E.D. a little too discomforting during the tension packed playoffs.  More on that later …

I do think that sexuality and baseball are most definitely are causally* linked. Lemmie tell ya a story …

One day when I was in the 6^th grade, the teachers took all the girls to one room, and all the boys were left in another classroom. We were to receive information on sex education you see. We were to be given an open, honest and frank conversation about sex, boys and girls bodies, and the changes some of us were going through.  Ha! Of course they never did that, and they danced around the issues so much that we were all more confused than before they “educated” us.

I can remember that in 6^th grade I finally noticed girls.  In 5^th grade I still thought liked a kid … liked toys … liked MAD magazine … girls were the ENEMY back then. By 6^th grade there were girls that I liked. Oh, man but this was in the stone age with no Internet. I really wanted to see what one looked like. You know … what a girl is like DOWN THERE.  I had not a clue. Some of my friends said that they had seen one. Others said that they were going to bring in a dirty magazine that shows the good stuff. I had my hopes up for a while, but they never brought in the dirty book.  Dammit! I wanted to see one!!! What does a hoo hoo look like?  Was I so wrong for wondering this?

Oh, yeah, the “Sex Ed” class.  I was very disappointed by the filmstrip. In between the slide sequences and the beeps and the bad narration we saw some images of bees, fish, dogs, flowers, etc. Not a girl’s hoo hoo was to be seen however. Everyone knows that the special place is full of mysteries even if you have a map … and there I was with all my unanswered questions. I just had to keep guessing. Some of the 6^th grade girls wore pretty tight blue jeans, and sometimes the morning sun would make an eclipse through a dress. If you have the right angle on a pair of culottes you can get close. I would have done anything to see a real one … oh, and especially … Laura’s … Oh, Laura … um … er … I digress …

At one point. one of the gym teachers drew a chalkboard diagram of a dick and balls, but you would never know if they hadn’t told us. They also told us that we may begin to experience what they called a “wet dream”.  Too late, Mr. Gym teacher, I was already there. I could not stop thinking about Laura … and Linda … and oh yeah, Teri … and Patty, who was already growing big by that time … sorry … um…  Baseball, right?

Anyway, during the filmstrip the narrator said that if we ever were lying in bed at night … and our thoughts turned to girls (Oh, Laura) … we should DISTRACT OURSELVES IN SOME WAY, and think about something else. The narrator said “think about the big baseball game…”.  The narration echoed: “think baseball …baseball …” as if they were trying to hypnotize us into never touching … well … you know.

You see, the geniuses in Sex Ed at that time were afraid that boys going through puberty might try to masturbate, which was to be avoided at all costs, for some reason. Thus, it was drilled into me: “THINK BASEBALL, BASEBALL, BASEBALL!” Getting a boner? … THINK BASEBALL!!!

One time I was watching a stand-up comedy bit by the late Robin Williams. He was doing this manic collage of different characters and free-associating like he often did. At one point he stopped a sexual joke comment and said “Think Baseball … Baseball”.  Mr. Williams MUST have seen the same filmstrip as I did. We were of the same approximate generation and are both from the same region of the country. He HAD to have seen that standard filmstrip, because he voiced it with the same bland inflection the narrator in the Sex Ed film did.

True story:  Eddie Snyder (yes, his real name, but let him sue me) raised his hand and shyly asked the teacher: “How long does a wet dream last?”  He asked the question as if he was afraid. Poor little guy did not want it to happen to him because he thought that it was going to HURT.  Poor kid. I had to laugh to myself though. I knew all about it. In fact, I was an expert already (oh, Laura … Laura).

One time when my team was at a baseball practice, one of the other kids brought a “dirty” paperback book into the dugout. There were no pictures, other than the cover, which was risqué but had no nudity. It was all text, but my buddy had underlined a lot of the swear words and the “good parts” – if you know what I mean. Of course this book was lost on me because I still did not know exactly what the female anatomy looked like.  Passages such as “He shoved his cock into her cunt” had no meaning — as “cunt” was terra incognita to me, and still only a theoretical concept.

I know what you are thinking: “Denny, is this how you became an expert on Baseball?”

Well, I will admit, baseball is a great sport, especially for those of us too small for football. I could play any position. I learned all of the fielding positions. I could even play catcher, which most of my friends could not play. “How can you catch the ball, when someone is swinging the bat in front of you”, they would ask. “Just put your glove where you expect it will go” I replied. I loved playing First Base, even though I did not have the build for it. A Firstbaseman should be a tall, lanky left-hander. I was a short, squat right-hander. First base is great because you are in on so many plays. Especially if Laura is watching …

Off topic: You know, a first basemen’s mitt does look a little bit like a wide-open vagina. I’m just glad I never made the connection back then.

I saw plenty of crusty mitts back in 6th grade.

I also learned to switch hit. I am a natural right-hander. I bat for average, line drives, rocket ground balls, etc when batting right. When I bat left, I have an upper-cut swing, hit more fly balls, hit less for average, but hit better for power.

… Maybe if I was a good baseball player, Laura would be impressed?

Oh, yeah, back to that Viagra ad …

Thing one: It is an embarrassing thing to have on TV, if there are any other humans present.  I know it is an important subject … but don’t they know my wife is in the room?  It was INTIMIDATING!

OK, I am at the age, I know I am the target market for the drug, which is unfortunately not covered by insurance. My body and hormones are on a roller coaster ride however.

I am not like I was when I was 19 years old and thought about pussy 99.9% of the time. At my age now, I have my “Percent-of-the-time-I-think-about-pussy-ratio” WELL UNDER 90% now, thank you. Every once in a while I am even able to think about complicated subjects for a prolonged period of time. Serious topics. 

When I am at the bottom of the roller-coaster, I am in a fragile state.  When I watch that intimidating ad, with the sexy but disappointed lady, I think: “Oh, can’t we just talk … can’t we just cuddle … um … don’t I show you that I care in other ways? … let’s change the subject”.  Dammit, I am like a frightened little turtle.

Me: “This has never happened to be before …”/ Her: “Don’t worry about it. But thanks a lot for the finger-fuck, Superman.”

Other days, my hormones are raging, and I am a one-man diamond cutting machine. When I am at the top of the roller-coaster hill, I look at that Viagra ad, and think: “Oh, you want to see some FUCKING now do ya lady? Oh, I’ll show you some FUCKING …, I’m going to show you some FUCKING that is going to wipe that smirk off your face.” Oh, yeah … I think,  I’m going to explode in her so hard, it would make those blue, wanting eyes bulge out!!! **

… what? … too much swagger?

When I am at my best, you have to visualize these sound effects: 1. The sound of a zipper being unzipped. 2. The sound of kielbasa sausage hitting the floor. That’s ME alright!

I hope all my readers will enjoy this young baseball season.

Starlight: I wonder what ever happened to Laura?***