Don’t Call Him Diddy

Lainey Posted by Lainey at June 9, 2008 11:19:00 June 9, 2008 11:19:00

Oh make up your f&cking mind!!!

When I was 20, for some reason I had it in my head that my Chinese name was lame. I was playing a lot of mahjong back then, late night gambling sessions with the Hong Kong Hello Kitty crowd in university, listening to cantopop, learning karaoke, and getting a proper education on Fresh-Off-the-Boatness 101.

So one day I decided my Chinese name (Lui Yeuk Fun) wasn’t sexy enough. I wanted a May May or a CeeCee.

I remember coming home from exams at the end of 2nd year and the look on my mother’s face when I told her I was pondering a change – can’t remember exactly what it was but Lui Ling Ling probably wasn’t a too far off – and all she said was: Congratulations, now you sound like a beauty pageant call girl who gets ganged by triads.

It was late that night, I was tired but insisted on going out over their objections. So I hopped in the car, threw my jacket in the back seat and reversed out the garage without closing the door. It was the sound of crushing metal that tipped me off. I eased forward to examine the damage and the passenger door directly behind the driver’s seat had been completely bent in the opposite direction.

To this day I have never been so afraid. I shuffled into the kitchen where they were boiling water before bedtime (Chinese people do this) and fell to my knees. This is how we repent. We fall to our knees and ask forgiveness. Some families make their kids hold their ears. I stopped doing this at puberty.

My mother squawked her head off that night. But my father only said one thing… a sentence so heavy with disappointment I will hear it forever:

This is what happens when you try and change your name.

And this is why Diddy Daddy is now planted solidly on the B List. Because he can’t decide on a proper identification. Perhaps now he’s trying to right the feng shui wrong.

Diddy is going back to Daddy. He announced it on his MySpace page. Puffy Daddy is back. And Puff Daddy was in Montreal for the Grand Prix and to host a party this weekend. Word is upon arrival he was escorted 12 police motorcade.

Why do taxpayers have to protect your non A ass when all you’re good for is a bash with the Eurotrash?

Bitch thinks he’s the Brange. Please!

Sit DOWN Puff Daddy!

Photos from and

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