It's Because Things Just HAVE to have names...That's all.

Everything has to have a name. If this wasn't the case there would be anarchy.

I sometimes get puzzled looks when I refer to the 'over dribble of urine into the underpants in the moments after trying to put the old man away after a whizz' as a 'Wembley'

Or the' sticking up of the underpants into the crack of the backside as a 'Wedgie'

Or 'the accidental swallowing of one's own vomit whilst trying to control being sick in public' as a 'Blake Carrington'

Or the 'smell of a teenagers bedroom in the morning or a train carrige after 12 am that is neither faeces, bad breath, body odour , alcohol or cigarettes but rather a mixture of all six rolled into one pungent offense on the senses' as a 'Mingha'

Or 'the wearing of one's own trousers under a costume whilst on stage so you can get out of the building quicker as a or more specifically (TO) 'Loonie'

Or 'the fluffing of your words during the performance a magic trick' as a 'Leveridge'

Or the 'terminal illness caused by smoking way too many cigarettes in one's life that finally leads to horrible and often uncomfortable (because of a loss of essential fluids) death' as ' Lung Cancer'

I mean what else are you going to call these things.

So for all those times these things have happened to you and you could never put a name on it there you go. Things just HAVE to have names.

The End