People find all sorts of reasons to change their names from the mundane to the utterly ridiculous. Some are famous football players who have always worn No. 85 on their jersey and want to make it official. Others are famous musicians who want to forgo names altogether. But the stupidest name changes of all are often not from famous people, but everyday Joes who, like Eugene unemployed cabinet maker Doug Smith, would rather be known as "Captain Awesome."
At least Captain Awesome sounds like a name. In Aron Brown of Derby, UK's case, he didn't even pick a name, but rather a series of somewhat related film and pop culture references when changed his name to--no shit--"Aron Mufasa Columbo Fonzerelli Ball In A Cup Boogie Woogie Brown."
A couple years ago, Asheville, N.C. teen Jennifer Thornburg changed her name to "Cutout." That's Cutout, short for "CutoutDissection.com" a website she helped create, which aims to stop experiments like frog dissections in classrooms.
In Essex, UK (and, by the way, the UK seems to be the leading producer of stupid name changes) there's a guy who first changed his name to "General Ninja Ant" in order, he says, to stop being bullied. The change only lasted about a year, however, as he's since changed it to "Camo u Flage," presumably to hide from the bullies that only harassed him more when he became General Ninja Ant.
Oh, and he's married to "Xena Warrior Princess" (not the real one).
Even would-be politicians get in on the moniker mixing. Marvin Richardson, a former Idaho senatorial and gubernatorial candidate, legally changed his name to "Pro-Life," so Gem State voters could skip voting for an actual candidate and instead vote directly for a policy issue.
And then there's Richard Smith who was obviously suffering from the same Smith-family-name-blues that Captain Awesome was and changed his name to "Stormhammer Deathclaw Firebrand."
The bad news is that by changing his name to a Dungeons and Dragons character, Mr. Firebrand officially dashed any hopes he ever had of getting laid. The good news is, he was probably never going to get laid anyway and, since the switch, he's been made permanent dungeon master.
Washington idiots who are determined to change their own names to something completely absurd can read about the steps involved here. Turns out it only costs $150 and there are no stipulations that your new name be anything resembling normal.
All we ask is that, upon ridiculous renaming, you inform Seattle Weekly immediately by emailing email@example.com.