Lynchian reinvention

I have always hated my name. It means absolutely nothing and only serves as a reminder that it was chosen by two people who don't know me at all. I wish I'd had it changed before I became so entrenched in adult life. Now, what a hassle. But still. I watched Lost Highway and thought about Renee resurrected as blonde Alice and suddenly felt sure I could pull it off. I've already come back as a blonde. All I need is a new name.

If I was to sink my teeth into your eye right now, would you be able to stop me before I blinded you?

I'm thinking I need to change my trademark line of going three kinds of Malcolm McDowell crazy from Malcolm McDowell to Ted Levine. Just the sound of his voice freaks me out. Stay tuned...
OK, actually I am already there, but I don't want to talk about it... except to say that I am considering telling people I am an orphan from now on. It might be more socially acceptable to spewing a metric poop-ton of bile the next time anyone says the word MOTHER to me.