Nicknameless

I have decided to eschew all the nicknames that have previously been hung on me in the past by friends and family and begin a search for one more appropriate to my age and author of weird stories.
Technically, “Mike” is a nickname for my real name, “Michael,” but it is hypocoristic in nature, and I would prefer my nickname to be less of a term of endearment and more of a sobriquet…a nice sobriquet.
When I was a child, my father gave me my first nickname. Dad flouted convention of the times and bypassed such names as “Sonny,” or “Junior,” or “Mikey” and went with “Shithead” instead. Thankfully, the name didn’t catch on with other family members.
During my grammar school years, I was occasionally called “Four eyes,” because I wore glasses. Unfortunately, this was considered a derogatory name, and I had to defend my pre-teen honor by means of fisticuffs.
In high school, I was a gifted athlete and fairly popular, and I acquired two new nicknames: “Hoodrow” and “Beaver.” The first was a play on my last name; the second is still a mystery to me. Once I left high school, I left the nicknames behind.
I didn’t have a nickname in college or the military although I secretly wanted one. Something such as “El Diablo” or “Dances With Wolverines” would have been nice.
When I began my writing career, I briefly considered a nom de plume but quickly abandoned the notion when a veteran journalist told me, “If you are going to write stuff, take ownership of it; don’t hide behind a pseudonym.” He was right, of course.
I didn’t get my next (and last) nickname until I was in my forties. My best friend Dan started calling me “Thug.” Now “Thug” is not a bad nickname if you happen to be a sports figure; it’s right up there with “The Assassin (Jack Tatum),” “The Brown Bomber (Joe Louis),” “The Executioner (Bernard Hopkins),” and “Mad Dog (Greg Maddux). However, Dan did not label me “Thug” because of my athletic prowess or nasty disposition, it is simply a synonym of my last name.
Today, besides “Thug,” which is used exclusively by my friend Dan, I have no nickname. I have a screen name I use on the web, “Emmuttmax,” but that doesn’t really count. That name is a combination of two of my dog’s names—Emmutt (a basset hound) and Max (a beagle)--both of whom have passed on.
I will keep Emmuttmax as my Internet name, but I really need a writerly nickname. The thing is though, according to the rules of nicknaming, I cannot choose my own nickname; it must be bestowed upon you by someone. One of my dogs, Pathetic Bob (who is also a writer) has a very cool nickname that was given him by my brilliant nephew Brian. Brian, however, refuses to recognize my brilliance as a writer and refuses to honor me with a cool literary nickname or sobriquet. Since I am a semi-proud guy, I refuse to plead with friends and family to come up with an appropriate nickname, so I am left nicknameless.
If one doesn’t come my way soon, I think I may revert to “Shithead;” it sort of fits with the kind of stories I write.