Unless you count "Oi, Fat Cnut!" as a nickname, I've never really had one. It is a minor regret in an otherwise reasonably satisfactory life so far. But I never got awarded one, that's the way it goes. So I was rather upset the other day to meet somebody (a thirty-seven year old man) who introduced himself by his nickname (juvenile, but some people have nicknames that almost completely overshadow their real one). I accepted this (somewhat enviously because I'd always wanted one of course) but later that week I spoke to a mate of his and asked where did the nickname come from? I was expecting a rather windswept and interesting dit about the origins of his moniker. "Oh he made it up," came the reply. That's right, he awarded himself a nickname. I felt cheated. Am I alone in thinking that giving yourself a nickname is the waltiest, saddest, wnakiest thing a man can do, excepting of course joining the RAF Regiment? V!