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In the future I will legally change my name 8 times.
The first will be when I get married.
The second will be when I start to miss my old last name and decide to hyphenate it.
The third will be when I wake up one morning and remember I am a staunch feminist and I shouldn't have to take on any man's name. Especially if his name is something as painful as "Lickerbottom."
The fourth will be after I get my divorce, when I change my name from Venable BACK to Lickerbottom, just to spite my ex, who made out like a bandit winning the kids, the cars, the houses, the dogs, and my limited edition box set of Sanford and Son.
The fifth will be when I hit middle age and think I need something hipper so I can find me a young strapping boy. "Cooleen I. Ameasy" will do just fine.
The sixth will be when I'm bored one day standing in line at Arby's. Technically I won't legally change it, but thanks to a sharpie all of my credit cards will be owned by Cooleen I. Ameasy EL OVENMITT THE DESTROYER!
The seventh will be when I accidentally murder...I mean uh, bump into that guy with a sword.
The eighth will be ten years after I started living in the sewer to hide from the cops, when I finally go crazy and just forget what my name was supposed to be. The rats all call me "HISS-Squeek-Squeek" so HISS-Squeek-Squeek I must be. Oooh is that a floating half of a little Debbie Oatmeal cookie! I call dibs!
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