Ooh, I got one!
So in university I ran with a pretty geeky crowd. Like, vampire LARP, semi-pro Magic cards, putting on the local anime con, that was us. Fucking GEEKY. Back then, we had a hanger-on to our crew whom I'll refer to as "Buddy". Nobody much liked Buddy, in fact, more than one of our friends compared our relationship as a group with him to
this Dane Cook bit. Still, we let him keep hanging around with us. Sure, he smelled bad. Sure, he was obnoxious, and he'd get handsy with the ladies, and he'd talk a lot about his creepy relationship with his mother. So what? We were all living away from home for the first time, and the prevailing attitude among us back then was that we all needed as many friends as we could get.
Besides, being friends with Buddy had a few perks. Buddy had a killer bachelor pad on campus, a proper 1 bedroom, not a shitty dorm room, that he'd host his ragers in. You could show up at Buddy's, get hammered on a Tuesday night, and wake up Wednesday morning with class still in stumbling distance for your still-drunk, 19 year old nerd ass. It was perfect! Putting up with Buddy's behaviour just felt like paying dues for access to this place.
See, Buddy had a few disabilities. Just for a start, he was blind as a bat. I swear to god, I heard him use his blindness to make the same lame joke about why he should be allowed to grope women's tits 100,000 times. It was practically a reflex for him. Second, he had this super rare blood disease that meant that he had to have a monthly phlebotomy to drain off the toxins in his system. These monthly drainings would leave him anemic, weak, and loopier than Lucille Ball on quaaludes. I still remember coming from the on-campus gym and finding him wandering around in the middle of the road, completely lost. "Where's campus?" he asked me.
Now, for the first couple years of university, my friends and I did absolutely everything together, and Buddy would often invite himself along. I can't say I was a massive fan of the smell, or the needy 3AM phone calls and texts imploring me to come over and 'hang out', sitting on his couch doing nothing for hours unless I wanted to waste gas taking him on endless cruises to nowhere. One time, Buddy found a girl in our group to obsess over. He followed her around like a lost dog at a Halloween party, and when she told him to cool it, he sat silently and pouted for hours. I said I was leaving and offered him a ride home to the party, which he accepted. Once we were rid of him, I came right back. Still, what are you gonna do? Fuckin' Buddy. Who wants to have the talk with him? No one had the cojones for that, and by that point, our crew couldn't actually function without a resident whipping boy.
So one night we were all hanging out on campus on a weekend. We'd taken over one of the vacant classrooms, and were doing character creation for some LARP. I got bored quick but didn't want to bail, so a few of us ended up back at Buddy's. Buddy got this phone call from his mother, so he took off to talk privately with her, and a half hour later I'd gotten bored. I hopped on his computer to check my email and did not have to work hard to find gigs and gigs of child porn.
Now, here's where I want to say that we cut ourselves off from Buddy. Of course, we didn't. I told everyone who would listen about the CP, and we decided by consensus that the best course of action would be to gossip, laugh about him behind his back, and give him derisive nicknames. We kept him around for another year! Finally, our Buddy habit was broken when it came out that he had failed out of university two semesters ago and was squatting on campus in his 1 bedroom because the school's administration hadn't noticed him. We all had another damn good laugh at his expense and he got packed back to his hick town with his tail between his legs to live with his mother and exist as one imagines Norman Bates did in early adulthood.
I saw Buddy twice after he moved back home - this was about eight years ago. He never completed his degree, never got a job or anything. Did I mention that this guy was the recipient of a prestigious, Wayne Gretzky-backed scholarship from the Canadian National Institute for the Blind? Guess not. The first time, I hung out with him briefly when he was in town to visit other friends and, miraculously, his girlfriend. The second time I was feeling like a glutton for punishment so I put him up on my couch. He got blackout drunk on a beer and a half and crashed through a table, but was somehow sober enough that night to greet me the next morning with vile innuendos about the sex I'd been having with my girlfriend. I think that was 5 years ago.
I never saw Buddy again after that, but I do keep up with him on social media. His Facebook page is as bland as anybody else's, but on Fetlife, that's where the money is. Hey, how come we don't talk much about Fetlife on the lolcow forum? That site is a fucking feedlot that makes #Gamergate look like a game of Capture the Flag at church camp. Anyway, his Fetlife page is a see-to-believe chamber of horrors featuring hundreds of pictures of him in a gimp suit, him getting his enormous man boobs flogged red and bloody, him sperging for hours about how sexy he finds the human cow fetish and how he just wants to be strapped into a milking machine and drained like the nasty, slutty cow he really is. If you lot have the stones his name on there is blindmage. Enjoy!