Dear Ask Boz,
What's my last name?

Since you obviously know your own last name, you must be asking about your FINAL name. After centuries of being reborn, you are wondering about the name of your final incarnation. Our Future Last Name Research Team (NORML) has been working near a clock (no one at AskBoz.com works around the clock) to find out this final name. But before that, let's first review some of your previous last names:

6000 years ago, when dinosaurs and mankind lived together in harmony, you were the real Fred Flintstone, not the watered down cartoon character we know today. Far from a hard-working quarry man, you were an evil quarry owner. You owned a flint mine, founded by your grandfather, who had discovered flint's uses for making fire and weapons. Your operation allowed you to control arrowheads and spearpoints, making you the most powerful man in the world.

Attacking other tribes led you to your favorite slave, Barney Rubble. And he wasn't the only person forced to be with you. The sad truth about your marriage to Wilma is that it was arranged by a rival chief who realized "Fred the Terrible" and his tribe were too strong to fight. Wilma, after bearing your two children, stabbed you with a slate knife. She fled with Pebbles and renamed her "Vengeance Flintkill." You can kinda see why Hanna Barbera had to clean up the story. "Yabba-Dabba-Die!" made a great battle cry, but isn't a good catch phrase for the kids.

Your next incarnation was the obscure God/King/Priest Mal-Stripmal-Un-Deroos. Unlike Fred, you were beloved by your people, who enjoyed paying tribute to you. Eventually this was awesome, after your somewhat dimwitted followers stopped perfuming the cows and sacrificing the women.

Most of your subsequent incarnations were fairly unremarkable, though they had great names: Dungbeetle Larry, Turro the Skittish, Frank the Smellmaker, and Samantha How'd That Snake Get in There? But soon you were back in the history books as the Middle Eastern prophet-poet Khalil Gibran. Yes, that's right, you were the man that wrote such wise sayings as "All that spirits desire, spirits attain" and "Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror". Of course, thanks to your editor, we do not have to deal with the "wisdom" from your elder years, such as "Unintentional farts smell the sweeter" and "I've fallen and I can't get up."

Most recently, you were Sigmund Freud, noted coke enthusiast and ... umm... he did something else. Oh, psychotology, or something. The ugly truth is that he invited vulnerable women over weekly to have some of "Uncle Siggy's Magic Dust." Coked out of their minds, the women would laugh, sing, and talk about dreams that were strangely full of cylindrical objects such as rolling pins, columns, firehoses, hose nozzles, crullers, and penises.

Presently, as you of course know, you are Terrel Owens, flamboyant wide-receiver for the Dallas Cowboys. Next you will be Madonna Obama, daughter of Former President Barak Obama and Madonna (long story). As the first Female Kabbalist-Jewish mixed race President, you will usher in an era of even greater unity amongst all the people, plus we can all believe in godlings with cool names like Metatron, which sounds like the name of the bad guy in the next Transformers movie.

Your last name, your final name, won't come along for hundreds of centuries. In that time, people will name their children based on their first words. As the sun begins to go nova and the earth begins to melt, "Ouch Thatburns" will be a more popular name than Brittney and Paris are today. And Paris's old tag-line "That's hot" will take on a much less shallow meaning.

Last time: Thanksgiving special edition.

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