My parents knew a guy named Stanley. This was fine, except that his last name was Lee. That made him Stanley Lee (or Stan Lee from time to time). And the really awful thing is, he married a girl named Leanne. So they became (say this quickly) Stanley and Leanne Lee. Or, if I write phonetically, Stanley-anley-anley.
And a family friend knows a guy named Robert Loblaw. Except he goes by Bob. So his name is *ahem* Bob Loblaw. Just imagine:
You: Hello, sir, I'm [insert your name here]. And you would be?
Bob: I'm Bablahblah.
You: I'm sorry? You don' have to be rude.
Bob: No! My name is BA-BLAH-BLAH!
Seriously, you'd think he's just go by Robert or something.
Also my dad found a name in the phonebook (Mom is convinced it's a joke). It says Pidas, Stu. Yeah. Not so good.
But the best (or worst?) story I've heard goes something like this (be warned, it is a little crass):
This woman we know somehow was at a church for something (I'm a little vague on the details). A man was there, Harold Butts, to lead a ladies choir. The emcee stood up to introduce them. "And now," he said, "would the ladies with Harry Butts please come up for their special number?"
Apparently the women were laughing too hard to go on stage.
Oh my, people. Please be careful what you name your kids.
"Even the most obedient and adoring of Nazis might have had difficulty saluting his Fuehrer with a crisp 'Heil Schicklgrober!'" The Concise Biography of Hitler