Originally named Hot Springs, the town changed its name in 1950 after a popular radio show. Host Ralph Edwards had promised to broadcast from the first town that renamed itself after the program.

The publicity stunt worked—Edwards visited annually for the next 50 years. Despite its playful name, Truth or Consequences is a legitimate spa town, known for natural hot springs and health resorts.

Image: Lachlan Donald

Surveyors in the 1700s accidentally claimed the same plot of land twice, giving rise to the town’s odd name. The mistake was eventually resolved, but the name stuck.

Today, Accident is a quiet town in Garrett County with fewer than 400 residents. It occasionally draws attention from curious travelers and lovers of unique place names.

Image: David Trinks

Named after William H. Boring, a Civil War veteran who settled in the area. Locals embraced the name, even forming a tongue-in-cheek partnership with Dull, Scotland, and later Bland, Australia, to form the so-called "Trinity of Tedium"—all in good fun!

Boring capitalizes on the irony with signs that read, "The most exciting place to live." It’s a quiet suburb of Portland with a strong farming history.

Image: everett mcintire

Miners wanted to name it after the ptarmigan, a local bird, but couldn’t agree on the spelling, so they went with "Chicken" instead.

Located near the Canadian border, Chicken has no phone service and a population of fewer than 20. It remains a favorite roadside stop along the Taylor Highway.

Image: Yiyi Yang

Named after ghost stories and tales of mysterious disappearances in the early 1900s. "Booger" was slang for ghost or boogeyman.

The area gained notoriety for several unsolved crimes, adding to its spooky reputation. Today, it’s mostly a rural area with a curious past and no official signage.

Image: Sharosh Rajasekher

One origin story claims the name came from the area’s appearance on a map—it looked like the eyebrow on a monkey’s face.

Located in Ballard County, this unincorporated community doesn’t offer much beyond a memorable name. It’s a quiet farming region in western Kentucky.

Image: Roger Starnes Sr

Allegedly, this name came from a German traveler’s comment, "So schön hell!" meaning "so beautifully bright." In a humorous twist, however, locals took the "hell" part literally.

Today, tourism thrives on the name, with themed businesses like the Hell Hole Diner and even a wedding chapel. You can even buy a square inch of "Hell" online.

Image: Brad Switzer

When building a highway exit, engineers labeled the spot "No Name" as a placeholder. Locals voted to keep it that way.

Located near Glenwood Springs, it’s known for No Name Creek and the No Name Tunnel. It remains a photo favorite along I-70.

Image: Holly Mandarich

Likely comes from riverboat crews who drank at the local tavern until they "swelled up like toads." The "suck" refers to a river eddy—a swirling current in the water.

Today, the town is best known for the annual Toad Suck Daze festival, which celebrates the odd name with music, food, and toad races.

Image: Claud Richmond

Located near Northfield, this ominously named unincorporated village borders the Connecticut River. Despite its fiery name, it’s a mostly quiet rural area.

Legend says the name came after a churchgoer left a sermon about hellfire and saw a forest fire raging across the river—declaring that "Satan’s Kingdom was burning." A similarly named area exists in Vermont as well.

Image: Jeffrey Clayton

Named for the Y-shaped intersection of State Routes 85 and 86, the town had to adopt a name with at least three letters due to Arizona law, so "Y" became "Why."

Why lies near the Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument and remains a popular pit stop for desert road trippers.

Image: Laura Mann

Named after store owner John Looney in the 1800s, Looneyville is not a joke—just an old Texas family name.

Looneyville is in Rusk County, deep in East Texas. It remains unincorporated but shows up on maps and road signs.

Image: Vivian Arcidiacono