you forgot MOLLE and Heckler&Koch
True story...at Seminary one afternoon, a prof decided he was too important to pass out papers and dumped stacks on a couple guys' desks to do the grunt work. As it was about the 3rd class, few knew the other's names. I was one of the Select Chosen.
As we passed 'em out, we would call the names of folks we didn't know.
Then I came to this name: Krotch.
I fertilize you not.
I don't care who you are, that looks like "Crotch" - the area below the waist where the legs meet and where the family jewels reside.
How to get around calling "Crotch" out loud, insult a man, and have a show-down in class...
I asked a couple guys - "Is this what it looks like?" Of course, being "buddies," they didn't help at all -- they probably were now paying more attention to see how bad I would gaffe this.
So, I finally said, "I'm sorry but this looks like 'Crotch'." Now, that was a stupid thing to say. The gentleman - in his 50s - stormed up to me, declared, "It's pronounced 'crock,'" and left me surrounded by my "buddies" laughter.
True story.
If you're reading this, Rev. Krotch (which I am correctly pronouncing "crock"), my belated apologies.
Q