pronounced LaDasha because, according to the creature that squeezed her out, “the dash don’t be silent”.
Back in SC I worked with a black dude that took to calling me “Cool Breeze”. I reciprocated by calling him Ash Tray. That dude could get some mighty fine moonshine.
Mark Lemongello is a retired professional baseball player who pitched in the Major Leagues from 1976–1979. He played for the Houston Astros and the Toronto Blue Jays. He is the cousin of singer Peter Lemongello.
Stucky
October 27, 2016 7:40 am
Ex-wife worked in the Ft Wayne inner city school system. She had a first grade girl whose first name was pronounced — Feh-MAH-lee. Actual spelling? Female. Really.
Some of you dudes (and gals, maybe) will remember these actual names of NBA basketball players;
— Fat Lever (Bea’s cousin, apparently)
— Meta World Peace (formerly Ron Artest)
— God Shammgod
— Tree Robbins
— World B Free
Fun with genitalia!
Dick Trickle ——– (short track and Nascar, 1990s)
Dick Pole ———- (Boston Red Sox pitcher, 1970s)
Stubby Clap ——– (St Louis 2nd base, 2001)
Misty Hyman ——- (Swimmer, 2000 Olympics Gold Medal)
Actual ghetto name of a girl our neighbor taught years ago to be a hairdresser was Aquanettie. Yes she was named after a brand of hairspray.
She was born to be a hairdresser in the hood. LOL
Wip
October 27, 2016 7:58 am
That photo should be included in the Friday Fail series.
TC
October 27, 2016 8:42 am
As a joke to our family members, we announced the birth of our kids with ghetto names: “DVD Playa” and “L’Andre” (pronounced “laundry”) “Cass-ette” was a close finisher. Mother in law even had little t-shirts made with their names on them.
I have two. I have a friend who is a male nurse in maternity. Woman had twins, female A, and male B is what goes on the birth registration hospital paperwork until they are named. Woman liked the names so much she kept them. Femalea and maleb. Buffalo ny, buff gen I believe.
I had to make up a story just to wash down the umpteenth version of ‘Femollie”:
There was a woman who had the strange name Watusi or Watici, her close friend called her Wanda the Crazy. I thought that was odd because Virgos are not the sort to act crazy except on rare occasions. She would collapse into her own shadow on her birthday. I suspect she must have had a congenital disease. She blamed it on a rape she suffered in ’93. Eight years later, she blew her brains out. Many suspected foul play.
A true story: My boss invited me to the Broken Spoke where I sat watching the white folks, AKA shitkickers, dancing to country music. The first time I went to Austin it was a rock music city. Overnight it went to country music.
Anyways, I was having a good time with the music and beer when an old couple invited me, almost begged me to dance with their young daughter or niece, who knows? I played the part of a gentleman and danced with her most of the evening. She wasn’t a purty gal but I like homely girls almost as much as I like chubbies.
Then, a year or two later, my son was being born. Danged if my dance partner wasn’t there in the nursery taking care of the little tyke. One good turn deserves another, I guess.
I had an Aquanetta at the Inglewood school I worked in. But these are names for boys I knew:
King,Prince,Duke,Mister,Lord. Mister was a running back on the football team and I loved hearing the announcer calling ‘it’s Mister Jackson through the right side for 6 yards’. I called him MJ.
One year I had 4 Jose’s, 1 Josefina, and 3 Jesus’s in one class. Nicknames were the rule.
Rdawg
October 27, 2016 9:20 pm
Years ago my mother did data entry for an insurance brokerage firm; applications for coverage.
She came across an application for a family of three. The daughter’s name, as we normal folks would pronounce it, was “Tunisia”.
The spelling on the application however, was 2nisia. My mother called the family to inquire as to the spelling. Yes, that is how it is properly spelled. The number 2, nisia.
She couldn’t enter that spelling into the database; the program wouldn’t allow it.
Not sure how it ended up…
Maggie
October 28, 2016 1:17 am
I was told a story by a wonderful storyteller masquerading as a USAF Master Sergeant named Lamar Jones once upon a long time ago. His memories of trying to turn his local Philadephia gang into more of a “Club” than a gang would have our AWACS Stan-Eval offices roaring with laughter. The one about trying to get his pals to adopt the Gang Title of “Manner Borne”, he asked them how they would want that written — meaning “manor” or “manner” since their concept of the word would define the tone. There was one particular ghetto friend who was always the bungler of the stories Lamar told to us those long ago 3 a.m. in the Oh-dark-thiry recalls in preparation for what was still looming over New York City back in 1989. Still, in the background of the end of the Cold War, long before a little-known governor of some flyover state was it Arkansas? named Clinton threw Jennifer under the bus, the community organizing continued unseen. This friend of my big pal Lamar was said to have defined exactly what the Club would be known by saying “Write it in great big letters, Lamar! Use a lot of them Capitals!” What a wonderful storyteller you were and are, Lamar. Although your Romance novels make me blush.
I’ve always liked:
LA-A
pronounced LaDasha because, according to the creature that squeezed her out, “the dash don’t be silent”.
Back in SC I worked with a black dude that took to calling me “Cool Breeze”. I reciprocated by calling him Ash Tray. That dude could get some mighty fine moonshine.
In SC I went to school with a kid named Lemon Jello – pronounced Le’mon Jaylow
Mark Lemongello is a retired professional baseball player who pitched in the Major Leagues from 1976–1979. He played for the Houston Astros and the Toronto Blue Jays. He is the cousin of singer Peter Lemongello.
Ex-wife worked in the Ft Wayne inner city school system. She had a first grade girl whose first name was pronounced — Feh-MAH-lee. Actual spelling? Female. Really.
Some of you dudes (and gals, maybe) will remember these actual names of NBA basketball players;
— Fat Lever (Bea’s cousin, apparently)
— Meta World Peace (formerly Ron Artest)
— God Shammgod
— Tree Robbins
— World B Free
Fun with genitalia!
Dick Trickle ——– (short track and Nascar, 1990s)
Dick Pole ———- (Boston Red Sox pitcher, 1970s)
Stubby Clap ——– (St Louis 2nd base, 2001)
Misty Hyman ——- (Swimmer, 2000 Olympics Gold Medal)
Actual ghetto name of a girl our neighbor taught years ago to be a hairdresser was Aquanettie. Yes she was named after a brand of hairspray.
She was born to be a hairdresser in the hood. LOL
That photo should be included in the Friday Fail series.
As a joke to our family members, we announced the birth of our kids with ghetto names: “DVD Playa” and “L’Andre” (pronounced “laundry”) “Cass-ette” was a close finisher. Mother in law even had little t-shirts made with their names on them.
I have a South African friend who knew a Cassette. Apparently they choose ‘white’ names based solely on liking how it sounds.
Another one from SA – Correspondence
saw a Cadillac recently and its owner bought some glue-on lettering to add her ownership stamp above the model name, so it actually read:
QUONEKAS
ESCALADE
apparently no apostrophe was available at the African American Fancy Letter Store
Someone once stuck the letters “Cli” in from of a Ford Taurus. Which turned a pussy car into an even pussier car.
The credit goes to someone else but LaTrina is one of the best I have seen.
Latrina!!!
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Named after a toilet?
Hahahahabababa
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-O4BbMisj6s
I have two. I have a friend who is a male nurse in maternity. Woman had twins, female A, and male B is what goes on the birth registration hospital paperwork until they are named. Woman liked the names so much she kept them. Femalea and maleb. Buffalo ny, buff gen I believe.
I had to make up a story just to wash down the umpteenth version of ‘Femollie”:
There was a woman who had the strange name Watusi or Watici, her close friend called her Wanda the Crazy. I thought that was odd because Virgos are not the sort to act crazy except on rare occasions. She would collapse into her own shadow on her birthday. I suspect she must have had a congenital disease. She blamed it on a rape she suffered in ’93. Eight years later, she blew her brains out. Many suspected foul play.
A true story: My boss invited me to the Broken Spoke where I sat watching the white folks, AKA shitkickers, dancing to country music. The first time I went to Austin it was a rock music city. Overnight it went to country music.
Anyways, I was having a good time with the music and beer when an old couple invited me, almost begged me to dance with their young daughter or niece, who knows? I played the part of a gentleman and danced with her most of the evening. She wasn’t a purty gal but I like homely girls almost as much as I like chubbies.
Then, a year or two later, my son was being born. Danged if my dance partner wasn’t there in the nursery taking care of the little tyke. One good turn deserves another, I guess.
Saw a fast food worker whose name was Choc-o-lite. For those who don’t remember: http://www.ebay.com/itm/like/371546288691
I had an Aquanetta at the Inglewood school I worked in. But these are names for boys I knew:
King,Prince,Duke,Mister,Lord. Mister was a running back on the football team and I loved hearing the announcer calling ‘it’s Mister Jackson through the right side for 6 yards’. I called him MJ.
One year I had 4 Jose’s, 1 Josefina, and 3 Jesus’s in one class. Nicknames were the rule.
Years ago my mother did data entry for an insurance brokerage firm; applications for coverage.
She came across an application for a family of three. The daughter’s name, as we normal folks would pronounce it, was “Tunisia”.
The spelling on the application however, was 2nisia. My mother called the family to inquire as to the spelling. Yes, that is how it is properly spelled. The number 2, nisia.
She couldn’t enter that spelling into the database; the program wouldn’t allow it.
Not sure how it ended up…
I was told a story by a wonderful storyteller masquerading as a USAF Master Sergeant named Lamar Jones once upon a long time ago. His memories of trying to turn his local Philadephia gang into more of a “Club” than a gang would have our AWACS Stan-Eval offices roaring with laughter. The one about trying to get his pals to adopt the Gang Title of “Manner Borne”, he asked them how they would want that written — meaning “manor” or “manner” since their concept of the word would define the tone. There was one particular ghetto friend who was always the bungler of the stories Lamar told to us those long ago 3 a.m. in the Oh-dark-thiry recalls in preparation for what was still looming over New York City back in 1989. Still, in the background of the end of the Cold War, long before a little-known governor of some flyover state was it Arkansas? named Clinton threw Jennifer under the bus, the community organizing continued unseen. This friend of my big pal Lamar was said to have defined exactly what the Club would be known by saying “Write it in great big letters, Lamar! Use a lot of them Capitals!” What a wonderful storyteller you were and are, Lamar. Although your Romance novels make me blush.
We will always have Paris.