Ahh, nicknames. As mentioned earlier, everyone I hung around with in college my freshman and sophomore years had a nickname. Some examples:
Spark. In Chemistry 101, the professor was cover stoichiometry and was discussing ohow to balance chemical equations. My dormitory roommate at the time raised his hand and asked, "Where do you write the spark?" "the spark?" the prof asked. "Yes, the spark that starts the chemical reaction." So he became Spark. That became a generic nickname for anyone who asked a stupid question in class. I remember a field geology class when we were stopped along the interstate to look at a roadcut, and Spark 8 picked up a "rock" and asked the prof what kind of rock it was. The prof said, "that's a chunk of asphalt."
Biggus Dickus. An easy one, a guy who was always bragging like Trump.
Blee. This guy, in the same chemistry class, passed out and started making some loud noises. Someone yelled, "I think he's having an epileptic fit!" He wasn't.
F**khead. One of the guys lived in a town only 65 miles away from campus, so he went home on the weekends. One Monday night in the dorm cafeteria, he was telling us stories of how much fun he and his homeboys had the last weekend. They ran our of beer, so they soaked a rag with gas from their car and huffed until they all passed out on the ground. We all looked at each other until someone spoke and said, "Gee, you sound like a real f**khead." The name took. His girlfriend called him "the boy with the nasty name."
Remember, we were like 18 or 19 years old.