When it comes to love...

Cute and cuddly doesn't always fit. Sometimes, it doesn't quite ring true.

This is Hugo F**king Weaving. Our snake. He's a tiny thing, will be a year old come April. He's always game for a cuddle, a twist around my glasses, or even in the curls of my hair. He enjoys finding the warm spot between my arm and (as most call them) my jubblies.

We named him Hugo F**king Weaving after an incident whereby the ever loving but slightly daft keeper of my heart admitted he didn't know the name of the actor who played Agent Smith, Elrond, Megatron, V, or MITZI(!!).

I was shocked. Horrified. Appalled.

I considered the very real prospect of breaking up with him, my greatest love.

But instead, we got a snake, named him after the terrible incident and every time my Love is being a bit, well, special, we recite the answer to every question in the world (when it isn't "roundkicked in the face by Chuck Norris") - "How can you not know who Hugo Fucking Weaving is?"