Puzzled

I have two identical remote controls, only one of which works. My bathroom fan sounds like a rock tumbler full of legos-jarring, if you're not used to it. I live on the only block of N. Monroe in town. It's like some sort of delivery Bermuda Triangle. Not one of the five clocks in my living room/kitchen is accurate to within even an hour. My house is one big booby-trap...Casa del Impossible.

I love it.

I'm going, going away. Up north to the sea and the Sound. It's good, I need to vanish, need to abandon the suddenly eerie events of my life. Dawn and Dusk and the Fiery Twilight. Too many cusps, not enough calendar. All is well, but all is weird. It'll do me good to go. I'll leave you a list.

Silverback Danny
Poisonfinger Pickles
Ephemeral Eddie
Fedonkulous Monk
Clamapple George
Tiny Toast
Skeetster Latefee
Chestnut McWhiskeyskirt
Noodles Pasta, the Hobo Ninja
Yurts Akimbo
Bathtub Midori
Jennie Emobreaker
Skullfucker Katie
Honky-Crotch Fingers
Aliza Three-Ovaries
Queequeg the 'Poonist
Nice Marmot Camino
Spookypants McFavors
Captain Lowjack, the Ginger Ninja
History's Greatest Muenster
Cinnamon Scream
Mr. Chartreuse
Squirrelball Wednesday, the Weirdo with the Beardo
Living Language Aaron, the Ladle King