I would like to thank most of the English-speaking world for thoroughly screwing up some damned fine names. This whole baby naming process is much harder after the havoc wreaked by parents, novelists, and serial killers. Thanks for making our list much shorter.

You’re one of the big winners, F. Scott Fitzgerald. Daisy could have been lovely, but you made her a self-involved boor.

You, Marlon Brando, have completely eviscerated Stella for us. Others are brave enough to withstand the bellows, but we’re not.

Thanks a lot, popular culture, for ruining Chester. We daren’t name a molester.

You also did some damage to the grown-up possibilities of Cherry. And Dick (which is not a name we covet, but between the penile and the vice presidential, there might never be another person named Dick ever).

Sesame Street, you’ve killed great early century faves like Kermit and Grover. Not sure how Ernie still survives, but show me a kid named Bert and I’ll name my next child Elmo.

Benedict? Gone. Brutus? Not in a million years. Adolf. Of the radar. Lucifer…hey, now we’re talking!