... The Warriors books by Erin Hunter suck ass. It's an epic book series about warrior cats who roam the wild and get into fights, thereby prepping a new generation of preteen girls to one day enter the world that their mothers live in, a world of mediocre cat mysteries and loveless marriages, a world where they must wear mumus and smell like pee and their roof working husbands are cheating on them as they read Outlander by Diane Gabaldon for the thirteenth time and eat mountains of cheesecake.
Seriously, I hate these fucking books.
But I was slightly amused when I went to WarriorCats.com and found out my warrior cat name and clan.
My name is Spottedstorm and I am a member of the Wind clan.
Fuck yeah! Wind clan be fuckin' reppin', niggaz!!
My wife's name is Brightstorm from the River clan, so although we are married, if I see her in the wild I WILL have to kill her.
Emerald is now named Rainpaw and, sadly, her clan is LITERALLY listed as "Loner (no clan)." Yeah, our baby has no clan. I might have to disown her. Tomorrow I will be going down to the courthouse and changing her name legally to Rainpaw.
Isabela's warrior cat name, and I am depressed for having just typed that, is Loudstorm and she is a member of the Thunder clan, which means that she may one day grow to be even stronger than myself or her mother. I am thinking of killing her now for the sake of the Wind clan.
Just for kicks, Natasha's grandmother's name is Swiftpaw and she is once again from Natasha's clan. And actor Abe Vigoda's name, the best by far, is Hawkstump and he's from my wife's clan, so she's pretty excited about that. Me, I'm starting to get jealous over here.
But I share my birthday with William Shatner. I've been proud of that all my life. Still am.