Well we had the late Ima Hogg, daughter of a former Governor.
And for years the Austin phone book listed Titzoff, Henador; it was a frat house.
And we have a supplier in my business, the Failing Equipment Company.
We have an OB/GYN in town named Dr. Box.
We also have a doctor named Dick Beaver. Unfortunately, he is not an OB/GYN!
I went to Thom Collegiate for all of high school. I was also on the improvisation team for all of those years. Something that we didn’t realized until my Grade 11 year, is that us on the team, were on the Thom Improv Team. That’s right: TIT. Much snickering and gaffawing was done by all, including me. 
There is a visiting obstetrician at our local hospital named Dr Semen.
We also have an Internal Med resident whose name is Dr. Semaan. I have refused to page this man overhead.
On a particularly steep street in San Francisco’s Chinatown there is a realty company called “Hang On”.
(maybe you just had to be there…)
We have a Master Bait and Tackle
and…
Beaver Liquors
:rolleyes:
My great uncle’s name was Dick Rising. He was a minister.
Similar in concept to Moe’s:
Apparently, a few years ago when she was in college my (now) wife and her friends would, rather than “Please hand me a pencil”, say “Pencil me”. Or “Book me”, “Remote me”, etc.
She and I first met at work, became friends and started going to lunch together. One day she’d forgotten to bring eating utensils before she sat down, so I picked some up for both of us. As I sat down next to her she said,
“Fork me.”
Naturally, I asked her out after that. [sup]-Can’t let a woman like THAT get away![/sup]
To make ppl wonder in our local bookstore I got a helium baloon, inhaled the helium and talked funny to the customers. The store owner, a really funny guy, said to me, “You know, helium is known to be a gateway gas to other addictive gasses such as nitrus oxide.” Knowing that he is constantly making jokes I replied “That makes me laugh!” I didn’t realize until after that I had made a really bad pun.
(hint: nitrus-oxide, a.k.a. “Laughing gas”)
There is a gynecologist in my home town named Dr. Kum.
At work for a previous employer, the subject arose of the possibility of the employees having to sign for the key to the washroom and return it when finished. I said, “What, now if they want to know how much time we’re spending in the washroom they’ll just have to check the log!” I didn’t realize what I has said until after and it’s an image I’ve been trying to purge from my mind ever since.
etc
My youngest brother just graduated from a tech school in town, having completed a course in food service. His specialty course is pastry, and he’s really good. My grandmother came to his graduation party and was talking to my brother about all the skills he learned. When he told her he was especially skilled in pastry making, she said:
“That’s great! On your resume you can put down Master Baker! They’ll be so impressed!”
And she wondered why I had pop running from my nose. How, pray tell, do you explain that to your grandma?
There used to be a Richard Hertz who lived in the town of Auburn, MA. It was a fervent hope of mine that this gentleman would someday move a couple of towns over and so become Dick Hertz from Holden.
Friend of mine from the copydesk used to be in the Air Force. One day she was waiting in line to pick up her uniform. She got to the front of the line and the clerk asked her name.
“Airman Hurt.”
The clerk looks around in alarm. “Where???”
The other day I was at dinner with another friend of mine who is still in college. She told me about how she suspected she might be slightly dislexic and was trying to get tested to find out for sure. It was suggested to her that she consult a private psychologist.
“Can you believe that? They wanted me to pay to see a private psychologist. They must be crazy.”
Oh, how I hate carbonated drinks in my nose…But I kept giggling about it all night.
The nice Lutheran pastor that officiated (and in this corner, in the white dress…) my wedding was named Pastor Plaster. And in my hometown a Dr. Doctor used to practice family medicine.
In Milwaukee, there’s a cemetary named “New Hope.”
Snicks
Clayton, remember to just say NO.
A Beatles CD was on the Cd player and it came to the song where they sing: “I can’t concieeeve… of any more misery etc.” The pause between ‘concieve’ and the rest of the line was pretty long and it occured to me that maybe one of the Beatles was impotent or couldn’t concieve children for some reason. I said something to my sister about it (basically joking) and she disagreed. I came back at her with: “But you have to admit that was a very pregnant pause.”
I swear I never meant to make the pun. I simply meant to defend my position (even if I didn’t really believe what I was saying).
I also did something similar to this recently that I can’t remember right now. Maybe it will come back to me again sometime.
There’s a very small unincorporated town in Wisconsin called “New Diggings”. It’s in lead-mine country, so the name makes sense. Except that the town is so tiny that there are only three signs that actually say “New Diggings.” Two are along the highway, demarking the city limits. The third is over the cemetary.
Some folks were of visting my in laws one night, and somehow they got onto the subject of the bar where my father in law goes to play pinochle with his buddies. The bar is rather cramped, so the tables are all close together and you have to be careful not to bump people when you pick up your drink (or deal the cards.) Someone commented that it must be difficult playing cards in such tight conditions. My mother in law chimes in and says “Oh, well its been that way so long that they really like it tight.” Dead silence. Mother in law completely confused. She had no idea what “tight” can refer to. Nobody clued her in, either.
Somewhere, I’ve got an old buisness card belonging to a Mrs. Rose E. Kuntz.