John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt is not my name. Robert Paulson is not my name. My name is Laurie. What's your name? Tell the story of how you got your first, middle, or last name.
In the original proto-German (yes apparently I'm a Mexican with a Germanic name, go figure), hrôdberxtas was derived from the roots, Rhod meaning "fame" and Berht meaning "bright".
Eh, don't be. It's not easy saddled with the fame and attention that the name implies. Anonymity is an underrated state. It goes to your head and just plain fucks you up. Strangers walk up to you on the street and greet you like they've known you for years and you don't have a clue who they are. People try to give you things just for being who you are. It's true. Not huge things like cars or anything. But, sometimes, meals are free. Seriously. Especially at sandwich places. You never have to pay for weed. Swear to God. And members of the opposite sex (or even the same sex) that never would have given you the time of day before, suddenly want to get to know you better. There's no guarantee of actual intercourse or anything, but the odds go waaaaay up. Going to the movies is free, too, sometimes. And more than occasionally, someone else buys your drinks. Free invitations to awards shows also seems to be part of the package, if you're into that kind of thing.
J.D. Salinger had the right idea. Just hole yourself up and avoid the public as much as possible. That's the life.
Not even joking.
Is it any wonder I reject you first?
David Bowie - Fame