...He Was Born A Pauper To a Pawn...

Yesterday started out pretty normal - I got up and went to work, drank some coffee, watched some cells fall into tubes. I'd sent Cindy to the doctor to check up on the fetus (we're having trouble parambulating right now, just to add some fun to the mix. My car shat the bed on the way out to Burlington Saturday night, so my mom's renting one while she's in town), so I got to leave work early and again witness, via some rather barbaric seeming moments in a surgical suite, the miracle of the birth of a third Baby Boy Sells. Here's the macular descriptors:

I really don't know where that dark fuzz came from. F&$%*!@g mailman.


Ethan's excited (seen here doing his best "Jim" from "The Office" impersonation)...But I don't think Connor's really on board with things. He seems like his boat's just been rocked.

Most importantly...What in the hell do I name this kid? It took us four days to name Connor, and we'd actually discussed that. Since I've been on a mid/late 80's - mid 90's action movie/TV show kick lately, I thought some of these names might be great:

• Matrix (As in "John Matrix" from Commando)
• Reno
• Dutch
• Gunnar
• Blue
• Dar
• DeVo
• Mack
• Billy
• Hunter
• Walker
• Harry
• Turbo
• Nitro
• Rocket
• Magnum
• Sledge Hammer
• Sixkiller
• Charlie
• Imhotep
• Ivan
• Caine
• Kane
• Cane
  
• Kain
• Robot (suggested by Connor)
• I'd be remiss if I didn't mention names like Rugger, Flanker, or Lock (Or simply "Number 8") in a stupid list like this...

Leave your votes and suggestions in the comments section, and we'll make the internet responsible for the name of my child.