My name is Denise Sevier-Fries (nee Buchy). Parca is the Roman Goddess of Childbirth and Destiny and after you get to know me, you will see why I believe she has, without doubt, made me her Poster Child. Come here for some serious issues, but mainly just some cheeky fun; satire with the odd parody tossed in, and a generous helping of hyperbole, with a dollop of facetiousness.

I am Canadian so expect a bit of politeness too. Sorry.


2) MY eBook Trailers are on YOUTUBE
3) My website:denisesevierfries.com
4) My Photo-Art Youtube Trailer is here too.

Thursday, December 2, 2010


Speaking of names...

Do you know where you’d be if you saw this list of given names? (no surnames added):
Daisy Boo
Poppy Honey
Seven Sirius
Diva Muffin
Blue Angel
Moon Unit
Rufus Tiger
Tiger Lily
Kal-el (*Superman’s birth name)
Fifi Trixibelle
Little Pixie
Peaches Honeyblossom
Ever Gabo
Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily
Spec Wildhorse
Moxie Crimefighter
Pilot Inspektor
Reignbeau (pronounced: Rainbow)
Elijah Bob Patricius Guggi Q. Hewson
Audio Science
Sage Moonblood
And of course...the infamous Apple.

Yes...you guessed it! You’d be in Hollywood! If everyone listed here went to the same school at the same time, this would be the graduation list of children of the rich and famous. Nothing life or death, for sure, but an interesting study of the celebrity mind nonetheless. And I admit, a good chuckle.

I will break the rule here and mention just one surname: actor Rob Morrow named his daughter Tu. As in Tu Morrow

It must be a medical condition. Some people are just born without the DumbAssIdea gland that monitors ones judgment. It is usually located directly behind the Pituitary gland.

I don’t know...it just seems to me that childhood can be hard enough for some kids without the added stress of a cocaine-inspired moniker. Would you name your kid ‘Fire’? How could you ever call his name out loud without causing widespread panic?

*NOTE- I wave all responsibility for influencing any celebrity who now names their child ‘Fire’. If you have issues with this, call my lawyer. Her name  Krook Skumsucker Brandt. She's in the Yellow Pages.


I notice weird things.

They just pop out at me. For example: celebrity names.

When there was massive coverage a few years back about the birth of Tom Cruise’s daughter Suri, everyone was going mad trying to figure out what her name meant and how they chose it. Such a mystery!

Suri comes from the four middle letters of  the name ‘Cruise’. Seemed a bit obvious to me but when I mentioned it to a journalist online, he was stunned and printed my ‘clever observation’ in his next column.

I had noticed the same phenomenon in other famous people. Their names were actually in their surnames:

  • Uma Thurman
  • Elliot Gould (real name Goldstein: short an L but what the hell)
  • Tom Cruise Mapother III
  • Donny Osmond (Don is in there!)
  • Marshal Mathers a.k.a Eminem (I wonder if his friends called him Marsh as a kid? It would explain a lot of his angst)
  • Pia Zadora (real name Schipani)
  • *Unless I am getting paid to do it, I won’t spend time digging for more...

So...this begs the question, “Is this a key to their success? A lucky charm that brought them fame and fortune?”

If so, I would like you to now call me ‘Buch’. My maiden name was Buchy.

And NO, Chubby won’t work. I am short a B.

Thank God.


A single word can change your life.

When I was singing in a small opera company, I met many interesting and talented people. One man in particular, Peter, was an attractive and brilliant tenor from Germany who lived in Canada intermittently, singing in our productions whenever possible. He could not speak English so we rarely did more than nod and say ‘hello’ in passing.

Before he returned in 1997 to perform with us, he learned from a rather musical grapevine that I was newly separated and on my own. I was flattered to find out later that he quickly enrolled in an English course so he could talk to me.

He should demand his money back.

Talking with him was like a continual game of charades, but with his thick accent and shy, thoughtful manner, it was all very charming. I decided the concert hall where we rehearsed had far too many ears in the walls so I asked Peter to come over to my house for a coffee. I wondered if he was quiet and serious all the time, or just in crowds.

It was the afternoon that one word altered my world forever.

Denise: Would you like some more coffee?

Peter: Yes. Sank you.

Denise: So...as I was saying, I like reading the newspapers to keep up on world events. In fact, a U.S. politician is making headlines right now for wearing woman’s underwear. How funny is that?

Peter: I don’t know vy? Zer iz nussing wrong vis a man verring vomans underver.

Denise: Really?

Peter: Of course!

Denise: (incredulously; louder and more slowly) You don’t think there’s anything wrong with a man wearing woman’s underwear?

Peter : (sensing a problem developing; smile waning). No. I don’t sink zer is anysing wrong vis zis...

Denise: Would you wear woman’s underwear?

Peter: (looking uncomfortable; laughs weakly) Vell yes...vy not? Especially somesing pretty on Walentine’s Day or a birsday! Some men are too embarrassed for zis but I am not.

Denise: (eyebrows raised, ready to clear off the table) I can see why you’ve never married.

Peter: (looks around nervously like a trapped animal, then suddenly turning a violent red, places hands on both cheeks in horror) Iz zis zee right word ‘verring’? You go to ladies boutique and are ‘verring’ a nice present for her?

Denise: (hopeful) Did you mean ‘buying’? Men buying woman’s underwear is okay? For a gift?

Peter: Ya! Ya! Buying! Oh Got! Zis English iz so schtoopid!

Greatly relieved and laughing until our sides hurt, the ice was thoroughly broken and we had a few more cups of coffee. And we got married in the summer of 1999.

To this day, the poor man cannot go shopping without me asking him if he is going to wear some woman’s underwear for me.