What Not To Name Your Baby: Hooker Edition

This Civil War hottie not only boasts a whopping big sword but he may also be the founding father of the popped collar phenomenon.
Do you know who he is? Why, it's none other than General Joseph Dalton Hooker, commander of the Army of the Potomac. Although I prefer to call him by his street name: JO-HO
Does his last name sound vaguely familiar to you? It should.
Apparently Hooker's military headquarters acquired the unsavory reputation of being more of a bar and brothel than a war strategy think tank.
General Hooker wanted to keep up troop morale......the operative words being 'keep up.' Hooker allegedly requisitioned a passel of prostitutes to entertain his men, hence, the modern day association with his surname.

My oldest mini-Infidels broke out laughing when I relayed this lively little historical tidbit to them.

And then, as I'm wont to do, I started brainstorming a list of baby names that would be forboten if your last name was Hooker.

If you're reading this blog right now, and you happen to be a Hooker, then this is a valuable service I'm providing FREE of charge just for you. No hourly rates or a clandestine rendezvous at the No Tell Motel necessary.

MINNIE HOOKER- Works the red light district in Munchkinland.

HARRY HOOKER- Clientele includes Big Foot fetishists.

PENNY HOOKER- Lives below poverty level with Lionel Richie's Penny Lover.

CANDY HOOKER- Will satisfy any sweet tooth.

CASH HOOKER- Doesn't accept credit cards.

MERRY HOOKER- Is never filled with sadness.

KAREN HOOKER- Has a heart of gold.

SUMMER HOOKER- Gets three seasons off a year.

CRYSTAL HOOKER- Has an attached 'Handle With Care' label.

JUANA HOOKER- Are you an undercover cop?

LONDON HOOKER- Carries a lot of pounds.

CHARITY HOOKER- Accepts food stamps as payment.

RICH HOOKER- Has a golden parachute along with a golden mattress.

MARINA HOOKER- Got tired of the Lot Lizard competition at truck stops.

CHEYENNE HOOKER- The pride of Wyoming!

AMAYA HOOKER- Well am I??!?

RANDY HOOKER- Enjoys the job immensely.

PATTY HOOKER- Has no limbs.

RUSTY HOOKER- Hope you got your tetanus shot first!

CHRISTIAN HOOKER- Must be okay because it's in the Scriptures.

IMA HOOKER- You're a Hooker, wouldn't you like to be a Hooker too?

JEAN HOOKER- Only works on Casual Fridays.

MIA HOOKER- Is a proud graduate of the Hooked On Phonics:Tarzan Edition Program.

SEYMOUR HOOKER- Take our scenic Hooker Tour today!

VIOLET HOOKER- Needs the Heimlich Maneuver, STAT!

BERTHA HOOKER- Well they gotta come from somewhere.

BUCK HOOKER- Can be found soliciting outside the Dollar Store.

(My standards prohibit me from listing GAYE HOOKER and BUTCH HOOKER without parentheses. Ta-Da! Parentheses makes judgment lapses more acceptable.)

Studying History has an infinite boring factor built into it. I prefer the National Enquirer version of historical events as opposed to painfully dry textbooks penned by the class of intellgentsia solely responsible for keeping the professorial elbow patch factories in business. See how a little spark of ingenuity combined with an angle that's been marinating in salacious sauce all day really brings a Civil War history lesson to life??!?

Dang, I should be a History teacher.

We Saw David Cassidy In Someone's Front Yard!

Well, to be more precise we actually spotted yard signs heralding the extracurricular activities of two local students named David and Cassidy.

I wonder if they have a dad named Ron? Perhaps both children are the resulting products of their father waggling his eyebrows suggestively at their mother while seductively crooning, "Hey, baby, why don't you Do Ron Ron Ron, Da Do Ron Ron?"

Yep, the only thing missing to make this family complete is an Irish Setter named Bonaduce. With both the canine and human counterpart, Danny Bonaduce, featuring all-over wild and woolly red fur, they're nearly impossible to tell apart.

*This post is dedicated to Nancy Face who still loves David Cassidy 4-ever!*

My Bologna Has A First Name....... And So Does My Feminine Hygiene Product!

From skimpy personalized thongs to giant bean bag chairs, I've seen all kinds of cheesy crap stamped with the gloriousness that is my name. Sadly, after searching for many years, I've still yet to find even one line of feminine hygiene products bearing my moniker- scribbling 'MELISSA' on the front of the package with a black Sharpie marker isn't quite the same. I frequently entertained swirling thoughts of legally changing my name to Tampax or Kotex until the fateful morning I stumbled across this display at our local 99 Cents Only Store. Oh wow, the Julie's of the world really have all the luck, don't they? I'm experiencing serious monogram envy.Now Julie can join the ranks of important females with iconic names like Sara Lee, Betty Crocker, Aunt Jemima, Little Debbie, and Wendy's. I can only imagine the profound befuddlement of the poor men who reside in homes dominated by estrogen as to why their ladies keep talking about someone or something named Julie. Anyway, I've secretly placed a hidden Infidel microphone in just such a home. Let's listen in, shall we?

"I wore white pants today and Julie really let me down. I should sue Julie for the dry cleaning bill."

"I'm riding the Julie Express again for the fourth day in a row."

"Just because Julie has wings doesn't mean that Julie can fly. Kindly walk your Julie to the can instead of throwing Julie across the room"

"That stanky Julie's been all up in my business today."

"I'm so glad that Julie was with me when Aunt Flo came to visit. Aunt Flo can be a real pain in the azz but Julie absorbs everything she can dish out with no complaints!"

"No, I'm sorry, not tonight, honey. I've already got Julie between my legs."

At certain times of the month my world revolves around you, Julie. Also, I can honestly say that you've boldly gone where no Julie has ever gone before. Congratulations, Julie!

Don't you forget about me. I'll be alone, dancing you know it, baby. Don't you forget about me....don't, don't, don't. Don't you...... forget about me. Please click. Gracias!

FUDGE-O-RAMA!

I love me some fudge. You may even say I'm a fudge connoisseur-sampling and casting eyes of lust towards the tantalizing candy store displays with sweet heavenly fudge stacked into neat little tiers, just ripe for the picking. My vast fudge experience has brought me into contact with many flavors and varieties, so I can say without hesitation that the fudge I found below is my least favorite kind. I shudder to think of the advertising for her.......'Phyllis Fudge! Now With More Pieces Of Real Phyllis In Ever Fudgy Bite!'
So, does Phyllis Fudge call her bicycle a FUDGEsicle? When she does her taxes and claims her new nose hair trimmer as a business expense, does the IRS agent roll his eyes and disgustedly say,"'She's always trying to FUDGE on her taxes." Does she tell her kids that Judy Blume's book, 'SuperFUDGE' was written for her? When she eats nuts, does she exclaim loudly, "New and Improved Phyllis Fudge......Now With Nuts!!!!!"? I wonder if she follows the stereotype and bakes FUDGE to give out at Christmas while people whisper amongst themselves, "There goes that FUDGE woman giving out FUDGE again." Maybe she could start her own company. 'FUDGE'S FUDGE.'

With an awesome name like that, she needs to get out of the real estate game and record a hot track to transform her into a Pop Princess. Maybe something like Fergie's 'Fergalicious' except she could call it 'FUDGEalicious.' Mmmmmm, FUDGE. Can you see it now? FUDGE Live And In Concert With Cake. Suh-weet!

Grand Prize Losers Of The Baby Name Game

Tori's naughtiness has left an indelible stain on my once pure and virginal mind with her many unseemly and raunchy fan innuendos. I'm going to have to listen to at least 6 hours of Christian rock to make penance. I hope you're happy now, Tori, turning my wholesome blog into a veritable den of iniquity! So, anyway, today I'm giving all of you the gift of a threesome. Don't get too excited- I'm referring to three recent sightings of some very craptacular names.

*Now that's some OLD Dick!*------------------>

I can't reveal my confidential source to you, but in the past month, I've run across a man named Peter P. VanDong. Yes, P.P Van Dong. Not since Dick VanDyke has the world seen a more unfortunate name. I'm secretly hoping that the P. stands for Piper or Peck. Anyway, he lives in a million dollar house, but can't pony up money for one of his bills. He's a deadbeat. Worse than that, he's a deadbeat who's complained bitterly every single day about getting his service cut while only coughing up a 20 dollar payment for his delinquent account. You can tell a lot from a name. The double euphemism was likely no accident.

Twas a time when I pined away for Bill Nye The Science Guy and I dreamed of him personally teaching me all about reproduction, and one day getting married to him in a lavish ceremony complete with his and hers matching lab coats. Today I spotted this baby announcement with one super crappy made-up name on it.....Deason Wade Nye. No, not, Deacon, which is legitimate, but Deason. Oh Bill, how could you?!!!?? I would have had your baby and named him something nice too. Maybe, William The Science Guy Nye Junior.

And finally, before naming your precious little one, please make sure to google your top name contenders prior to the birth. You don't want your baby to share his or her name with those who have sullied reputations, do you? Case in point, a lovely family we know through Church recently named their baby something that made me break out of my usually super sugary sweet character to remark to my oldest girls, "Whoa, did they name her after an exotic dancer?" To test my theory, I did a quick google search to confirm my suspicions, and found that all but one of the top ten listings showed various strip clubs and adult movies. It seems that a performer who shares the same name with the afore mentioned adorable baby has appeared in a fine feature film called 'Chocolate Honeys 4.' Nice.

If only I could just smack some people upside their heads with a 'Traditional Baby Names' book, the world would be a much better place.

Yeah, This Name Does Make Me Feel ILL!

I spotted this name yesterday while cruising through the hood. ILLISSA? Did they bastardize my name, Melissa, or is it a screwy ILL-mannered attempt at Alyssa/Elissa? I just can't decide. Mainly the word ILL sticks out. ILL, as in sick, ailing, afflicted, nauseous, poopy..... ILL like the rappers in the 80's who used to break it down with a raucous chorus of "You Be ILLIN!" ILL as in ILLegal. Doesn't the yard sign make this a house of ILL repute? It just rouses my insatiable curiosity to no end as to why the parents thought this an attractive name for their offspring. Did they sound it out first? Maybe these folks hail from ILLinois, Land Of Lincoln, and they decided to pay tribute? Certainly, I don't mean them any ILL will. And I don't want anyone to feel ILL at ease, but foisting this crap name on a child seems ILL-advised.

The Candy Mann Can!

This real estate agent is in desperate need of a savvy Press Agent. And I'm ready to volunteer my unique 'marketing whore' services for the job. Just envision a whole promotional paraphernalia blitz with my craftily genius slogan boldly emblazoned across them. Yeah, a veritable butt load of plastic combs, coozies, key chains, all printed with "Need To Sell Your House Fast? THE CANDY MANN CAN!" She needs glitz! She needs glamour! She needs huge signs adorned with dancing multi-colored lollipops to take advantage of her sweet, sweet name. I mean, who wouldn't want to buy a house from the Candy Mann? It's the kind of name recognition that earns you immediate attention and fanfare. I'm afraid that dear 'Candace' just isn't capitalizing on the marketing potential that having such an incredible moniker allows her. If Candy Mann called you on the telephone, wouldn't you brag to all your friends that you personally know the Candy Mann? I would.

How about this cute little jingle for her radio and T.V. ads? It goes to the tune of The Candy Man. The original one, not Christina Aguilera's horrifying version.
Who can take a crap house
And shine it up with paint?
Cover up the termites and the cracks. What a Saint!
The Candy Mann, the Candy Mann can
Candy Mann can 'cause she sells a house with love
And makes the 'hood look good....

Candy Mann should just embrace the sweet awesomeness of her name. After all, her sister, Gaye Mann, wasn't nearly as lucky as her. Gaye Mann barely eaks out a living driving an ice cream truck. Believe it or not, people aren't that eager to buy frozen treats from a vehicle that says 'Gaye Mann Ice Cream' on the side. "I scream, you scream, we all scream at Gaye Mann Ice Cream." Poor Gaye Mann.