Fake Names for Every Occasion

A few months ago, I made a list of 36 excellent and useful fake names. I wrote them while doing laundry at my parents’ house, on the type of notepads that charities send out to guilt people into donating money, and found them again today, crumpled in the bottom of my backpack.

Given the rise of silly internet games with the pandemic going on, I thought this would be a good time to post them. Possibly because my brain is broken, I laugh uncontrollably every time I read the full list. My partner, on the other hand, hates them with surprising vehemence, even though they’re totally normal and definitely don’t sound like fake American baseball player names from a 1980s Japanese video game.

Anyway, get out a d12 or a random number generator, pick a list, and find yourself a very respectable alter ego.

Gender Neutral Fake Names

  1. Leaf Mursha
  2. Wen Poplar
  3. Owl Prandialton
  4. Lee Petrumer
  5. Trollmiffin Lopez
  6. Aftere Paux
  7. Vrettix Van Doozel
  8. Muffin I. Praxis
  9. Andy Rathbundle
  10. Orp Couche-Mingle
  11. Merkin Printer
  12. Horple Randomer

Female Fake Names

  1. Mirande Hopenorton
  2. Semki Breadcrisp
  3. Applearia Post-Quantimer
  4. January Lexington
  5. Mina Couche-Mingle
  6. Zaria T. Aftifer
  7. Hocki Quistington
  8. Spanielle Pomodoro
  9. Amora Betterchip
  10. Susan Lee Krang
  11. Maligna Romano
  12. Zinni Botch

Male Fake Names

  1. Brindle Abernathy
  2. Sorrell Chaister
  3. Vrangle S. Posterboi
  4. Hekatius Merriam
  5. Morgan Rathbundle
  6. Edmund Carrifer
  7. Charkoal Martinez
  8. Petrumer Pomodoro
  9. Normandle Preski
  10. Raster Biktis
  11. Daedalus Banter
  12. Olli “Neck” Jones

I started texting my partner to ask if he could “pick up some stuff,” but autocomplete assumed that the word stuff was supposed to be “snakes.”

What I find disturbing about this is that Google utilizes user data to make predictive text more accurate, and that there is apparently enough recorded user behavior to make “snakes” seem like a viable completion for that sentence.

The pandemic has meant that I finally started making homemade yogurt again. A local farm store is doing phone orders and pickups, so we have better access to quality milk than we do yogurt.

I worried that this batch wouldn’t come out because the milk felt hotter than normal, but in ten years of making yogurt, I’ve never had a batch fail “to yog,” as my partner puts it.

Thank You for Running on Dunkin

In these days of coronavirus isolation, I already miss my Thursday morning writing routine.

I stop at the Dunkin Donuts closest to work, and every week it’s the same order: large iced cold brew, three creams, less ice, and a power breakfast sandwich with added bacon. I’m not much for routines in general, but I’ve grown superstitious about this one: I haven’t changed my order in over a year, and I even have specific sections of my drive where I’m allowed to listen to writing podcasts, and others that are book mix CD only.

It’s the same table every week, and if those public works guys with the truck are there, it’s the adjacent table, and I give them the sidelong shifty-eye until they leave, and I swoop over in three trips with my computer and my numerous index cards.

I say “hi” to the some people and eavesdrop on others, and they’re the same people every week. I watch the same young cashier flirt with the same old women and thank them for running on Dunkin.

And then I stop noticing the other people so much as I finish my sandwich and get into a good flow. I always aim to finish a scene, and succeed often enough. On the way to work, I play “Outsiders” by Franz Ferdinand. It wasn’t on purpose, at first, but it comes after the most repeated song on the book mix, and it turned into a victory lap, if driving in a Corolla through four lighted intersections and then backing into a parking spot counts as a victory lap.

It meant more last year than it does now. With the kind of work schedules my partner had, some weeks it was my only time to work on Stars Fall Out. Still, it was one of my favorite parts of my week, and it felt like the bastion of my writing discipline.

These days, we all have things we’re going to miss or already miss. This is one of mine. A little, mundane piece of my week that I miss a great deal.

Now that everyone and their Uncle Bob has taken a sudden, pandemic-motivated interest in hiking, my hiking pole is also my social distancing pole.

Always remember that a social distancing pole is no substitute for choosing an unpopular trail with difficult parking and little to no markings either on the map or on the ground.

And no, I haven’t poked anyone with it–I would have to sanitize it.

My partner and I discussing the true meaning of Vaffeldagen, aka Waffle Day, aka March 25th:

Me: Vaffeldagen isn’t about the waffles. It’s about the friends we can’t see because of the pandemic.

Partner: The real friends are the waffles you made along the way.