It’s almost inevitable. You’re walking through your elementary school’s hallway, minding your own pre-pubescent business, until you just-so-happen to run into the school bully. He stares at you as you approach, then proclaims, “Wow! You look like an Angry Beaver!”.. and just like that your life changes forever.
We’ve all had a nickname at one point or another in our lives, and it’s perfectly fine. It’s almost a term of endearment, yet deep down you fear that said nickname will follow you to the grave, like mine, Beaver, (or Beav for short). Fucking get over it. The same people that are willing to call you whatever God Damn alias they came up with usually turn out to become your homies. That’s exactly what happened to me, and I’ve come to accept this. Some people might not even know your real name, or give two shits about taking the time to ask you what it is. Are you going to let this stop you? Fuck no. Nicknames come and go but you can’t let them affect how you go about your days.
The first issue with nicknames is the fact that some people think it’s acceptable to give themselves a nickname. Think again. It must be because they think it’ll give them a fucking confidence boost or some shit.I really don’t have a solid answer for why people nickname themselves. I guess maybe it’s because they don’t have friends to do it for them. HA! Sucks. Back to nicknames, don’t ever give yourself one, chances are no one in their right mind would agree to call you whatever dumbass name you come up with. The only time this was some what acceptable was in Step Brothers. (fucking classic)
There are those easy-way-out nicknames as well. The lazy ones where we just take the first initial of your first name and slap it in front of a portion of your last name. Simple, yet effective. It can help to differentiate two people sharing a first name. Problem here is there’s no hilarious story to go along with why they call you what they call you. I must note that in no way does this define you as a person. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a huge proponent of the easy nicknames, for years my friend Johnson and I would solely refer to others by last name. It didn’t matter a bit what you wanted to be called or whether or not you were male or female (a simpler time). Nonetheless, you were identified in manner that you may or may not have been fond of. Some people get nicknames that are absolutely perfect. Usually its from either the candid irony of the name or the description that makes it fits ever so perfectly. A legendary nickname given to a hefty lad in high school was “abs,” and that kid owned the shit out of it. This man literally gave not one single fuck in his high school years, even going as far as to shave his hair into the shape of a penis. (which fit perfectly with the lone white patch of hair atop his dome piece) The end result? This man owned the halls with what appeared to be an ejaculating penis on his head. This event was one of the more underrated moments of my high school experience, and by bringing light, I got to kill two birds with one stone. Furthering my point, there was a chubby kid nicknamed Skinny, which will forever be quintessential. There’s also the story of that one girl who wore lipstick that was always different shades of shit brown. It actually looked like wiped her ass with her own face. Thus, Shit Lips was born, and will forever live on.
The final issue I have on this topic is directed towards a very particular genre of nicknames, animal nickname. The ones, like myself, that you somehow manage to inherit. You may in some weird way manage to look like the retarded horse from Family Guy, so obviously such comparisons must be made solely for the sake of comedic gold. In NO WAY does this deviate from the fact that you threw some bangers in high school, and for that, we thank you. Back to nicknames, particularly mine. Yeah, my fucking teeth were huge and I thought I could play it off by wearing Oregon state apparel. How wrong was I. After years of abuse and numerous attempts to sway my friends opinions, I somehow managed to shorten the nickname to something I could at least tolerate. Still, I don’t think I’ll ever truly free myself from the high school nickname I unwillingly inherited. Then there was my dear friend who managed to somehow look like a monkey and Sid from Toy Story at the same damn time. Puberty does some crazy shit. But hey, it could be worse. I know this one poor soul who inherited a nickname that his father absolutely resents. The poor sucker thinks that nobody in the town respects him because they call him something other than the name printed on his birth certificate. All that because one day some kid decided to draw a hand turkey on a white board and write his name in it. Did he let this moment in time define him? Fuck no, he rose above it and embraced that shit much like whoever is reading should. Morale of the story, suck it up. And with that, I digress..