The short answer:
Why not boggle?
The longer answer:
I've been asked this question often enough -- and had my short snappy answer dismissed on most of those occasions -- that it seems worth writing something more on the subject.
There are lots of reasons. I like the word. B-O-G-G-L-E. That spells boggle. It has a satisfying sort of sound to it. It looks good. And it has a wonderful meaning: that point on the edge of bewilderment where you're just barely starting to believe that the source of your surprise might just be real.
It also describes how I feel a lot of the time. I am easily boggled. Not quite on the scale of a sheep who is constantly startled by seeing the same fence every day, but close.
Work boggles me. It probably shouldn't, as I've seen quite a lot of the things about it which boggle me far too many times before. A stock-quote feed handler which eats an entire CPU, no matter how fast the CPU may be, while reading and parsing data which is tramsitted at no faster than 9600 bits per second boggles me. That it is in production use and nobody has bothered to fix it boggles me even more. The only thing about this particular piece of code which does not boggle me is that it is due to be completely replaced Real Soon Now, and that the replacement is of course months behind schedule.
Stuff which goes on in the world boggles me. The inability of cultures which have lived next door to one another for centuries to get on well enough to stop trying to kill one another for a bit certainly boggles me. This is not a good sort of boggling -- I'd happily forgo that particular source if only they'd get over the idea that their neighbours are still going to be there tomorrow and just get on with their sodding lives.
Finally, the fact that this domain was even available boggled me.