Saint, Ellen

If you've ever been in an amazing relationship, then you've probably had this experience. You're sitting there, doing some thing or another with your partner, and you take a moment to ask yourself, "What could I possibly have done to deserve this person?"

"How am I so lucky and fortunate to have found this woman?"

And not just to have found her (or him). But for some serendipitous series of events to have been triggered that made them think you were somehow reasonable too. A chain reaction that led to that moment of bliss. 

I'm not talking about wedding day moments, or first dates, or that kind of thing. Not that I mean to diminish those situations by any means. But for all the romance of a wedding day, let's say, it isn't one of these moments. You don't get married to someone because of a connection you felt on your wedding day. And you can't force these blissful connections on a wedding day. That's a different thing. I'm talking here about something divine and unexpected. A moment of clarity on a sofa somewhere, wearing sweatpants, and you blink. And in that blink you understand that something magical is happening.

Last night, I had one of those moments of bliss.

My wife and I had gone out to dinner with her family on Saturday. And dinner was followed by drinks. Nothing crazy by any means, but somewhere in the night, baby names came up. At that point, my father-in-law mentioned that he had been born on his Saint's Feast Day. For those of you not in the know, Catholics are all named after saints. If you know a Catholic, there exists at least one saint after whom that person is named.

The conversation didn't have anything to do with any of that. It turned to me giving my father-in-law a hard time, and saying that we really liked the name Karl for a boy, and wanted to give him the middle name of Mark, after him.

Karl Mark.

Ellen's father is hilariously not a communist. This has nothing to do with this story. I just think it would be really fun to name our potential son Karl Mark Dagostino.

So the night carried on, the conversation moved to another thing, and the entire episode was forgotten until last night.

I had just gotten home from a rather long day, and Ellen and I were hanging out on our sofa. At my greedy prodding, we began looking at our baby registry, to see if anything new had been bought. (It had... very exciting. [I'm a ridiculous person.]) Some synapse fired in my wife's brain, and she recalled the Saint's Feast Day comment from the night before.

"I wonder if I was born on a Saint's Feast Day," she said.

"Yes. You definitely were."

"Really?"

"Yeah, every day is a Saint's Feast Day."

"Really?"

"Yeah, probably a whole shit ton of Saint's Feast Days, actually."

She was intrigued, and pretty quickly, we were on Google: "Saints Days September [Enter]."

We were brought to a Catholic website, and sure enough there were like 15 Saints Days on my wife's birthday.

"Some of these names are silly. I'm glad I wasn't named after a saint," she says.

"You were..." At this point, I tell her what I told you above. All Catholics are named after saints. Ellen isn't currently Catholic, but she was Baptized. 

She becomes super intrigued. And now she's looking for Saint Ellen.

News Flash! There is NO Saint Ellen!

Who knew?

In searching for Saint Ellen, we found a blog called thereisnosaintellen.tumblr.com, which seems semi-reasonableish. But more importantly, we found Ellen Saint. The number two Google hit for "Saint Ellen" is the Wikipedia page for a porn star named Ellen Saint. Hit number three is her Twitter account!

"Holy shit! She's Czech and she shares my birthday!" I exclaim.

Ellen clicks on the page.

"What if she bares a strong resemblance to you? How crazy would that be?!"

"A series of wild coincidences," Ellen responds. "Hmmm... no picture on Wikipedia." Ellen (wife) brings us to Ellen Saint's page on imdb.com.

"Still no picture! Come on!" My wife exclaims. "Dripping Creampies 6!" And she explodes into laughter. We both giggle, as my wife scrolls down Ellen Saint's filmography.

"Oh man, she was super productive in 2007," I notice.

"Yeah, no kidding. Prolific." More laughter. "Sperm Swap! It's gold!"

In my excitement at hilarious porn film names, I skip over the best one. "Canibales Sexuales 4," I say in my worst hispanic accent. We giggle. But then Ellen's giggles turn into an explosion of laughter. Spittle flies from her mouth as she reflexively brings her hand to cover her mouth. Her face is bright red. There are tears in her eyes. She has found the gold mine that I missed.

"THE ART OF THE CUMFART!!! THE ART OF THE CUMFART!!! SOMEONE MADE A MOVIE CALLED THE ART OF THE CUMFART!!!"

Our eyes connect in laughter. And I feel God's light shining down on me and my Ellen, as we laugh at the exploits of Ellen Saint. What grace has brought this woman into my life? This perfect soul with whom I can casually note that Ellen Saint had a solid streak of anal films in '05 and '06.

This woman who responds, "Yup. They're all there: Ass Drippers, Cum Filled Asshole Overload, Cum In My Ass Not In My Mouth 3, and Elastic Assholes."

I note that she made her film debut in Cum In My Ass Not In My Mouth 2 back in 2003. Then I rest my head on my wife's pregnant belly and whisper to my unborn child, "I hope you never tell someone to cum in your ass, not in your mouth."

And Ellen follows up my first parental advice with some of her own, "Please don't do anal."

Sweet bliss!