The street that runs parallel to ours is called Sickle Avenue. There are some really pretty houses on it (prettier than our street), but every time I try to even imagine living in one of them (since around here imagining is all I can do!) I run up against the name of the street. Sickle? Like, sick? Sickle cell anemia? Not pleasant images, even if the tool with the same name isn't half bad. And I hear that houses on streets with less appealing names tend to sit on the market longer, and sell for less money than their counterparts with more poetic monikers.
Anyway...this article from the New York times combines my love of juvenile humor and odd place names. Enjoy!