Paula or Paul?

One of our neighbors is a very cool thirty something Harley riding kinda guy. He sports a shaved head, tattoos wrapped around his huge chest and neck, and loves to blare really loud rap music as he parks his Range or Beemer in the driveway and escorts yet another lovely new lady to his abode with its pimped out coy fish pond and built-in stainless steel Bar-be-que. In other words, this guy is the @#$$! He exudes coolness, the kind of cool that people spend their entire lives trying to find sheer glimmers of. It's amazing how not cool Big D and I feel as said neighbor hosts a rager as Big D helps me take in the groceries. One day, Jam asked me what our neighbor's name is. As some of you may recall, Jam is big into learning people's names and this is a name I happen to know..."Paul." The name fits him. Very masculine...Paul is the kind of guy that rides a harley or a chromed out BMW convertible. The funny thing? Jam thinks I said "Paula" and I never bothered to correct him. It is so damn funny to see Paul ride off on his motorcycle and for little Jam to say "Paula's on a bike." Or for Paul to play his rap music with the bass going full blast and cause Jam to say "C'mon, Paula." He is SO not a Paula.