I had a pile of dirt that used to call me Maurice. Every time I'd walk by, it would call out to me. No one else ever heard it, but I think that's because it was talking to me. No matter how many times I would explain that my name was not Maurice, it never seemed to understand. I used to argue with it for hours at a time. I showed it my ID, spelled my name slowly, and even brought a cow as a witness.
Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. I dug a hole and buried the dirt. I listened closely, but I couldn't hear it anymore. "Dude, you're weird," said the cow.